Why I Didn't Attend The Black Church's Funeral

I missed it. I did not receive a Facebook invitation to it nor did I see its location retweeted on Twitter. Despite being there three days prior, it was not stated in our Sunday morning announcements and was not repeated at Tuesday night’s bible study. But somehow I’d missed it. I’d neglected to attend one of the most seminal events in African-American history and would not have known about it lest Professor Eddie Glaude not shared it with The Huffington Post. On Wednesday, February 24, 2010, Dr. Glaude told me and several others the shocking news: The Black Church was dead.

I’d missed the funeral.

Or did I?

Dr. Glaude’s assertion that “this venerable institution as central to black life as a repository for the social and moral conscience of the nation has all but disappeared” was grounded in three points. First, Professor Glaude stated that the conservatism within The Black Church as it addresses social issues had aided in its demise. Though Glaude may suggest that The Church has taken a stance on many issues plaguing African-Americans to the detriment of the community, the research shows that is not the case. In his work, Bowling Alone, Robert Putnam states that the American religious communities spend between $15 to $20 billion dollars annually on social service activities and that African-American congregations have been, and continue to be, trailblazers in combining spiritual and social responsibilities for the overall enhancement of the community. Additionally, after engaging in The National Congregations Study, Mark Chaves found that churched in low-income areas performed more social services activities than others and African-American churches are more likely to participate in specific types of social initiatives such as health, education, domestic violence, substance abuse, tutoring/mentoring and job assistance. Within academia, there is an extensive rolodex of scholars of who have committed themselves to investigating the social impact of The Black Church on the African-American community and have found it to be in the trenches, engaged in all levels of development. However, one does not need to peruse academic journals to become acquainted with involvement. From the church with a thriving AIDS Ministry in North Carolina to the church that owns a halfway house in California, Black Churches in every corner of the United States have been and continue to avail themselves as conduits of change.

Secondly, Professor Glaude maintained that the African-American community had evolved past the notion of a single establishment being its epicenter. He would submit that churches now share the stage with “vibrant non-religious institutions and beliefs” and that Black pastors now compete with successful White pastors for members. This is not new. In the same tone that slaves and recently freedmen did not attend Black Churches for fear of retaliation, today’s Black family attends a multicultural and/or nondenominational church led by a White pastor because of its more holistic approach. Yet, The Black Church remains here for them today as it was for the fearful Negro of yesterday. The Black Church is not ignorant to the fact that there is no single Black experience and the term itself expresses this. When Lincoln and Mamiya coined the phrase in 1990 to place all seven of the major African-American denominations under one umbrella, it was not to eliminate or negate that the experiences of each differed. However, it was to assert that, though varied, these denominations would face many of the same challenges by virtue of being comprised of and working with the oppressed. No matter how far the African-American community progresses, The Black Church will be central to that. Religious waves and fades of participation have been a part of the spiritual fabric of our country. The question should not be posed to The Black Church as what will it do as more members seek guidance from Joel Osteen, Rick Warren and Jentzen Franklin. The question should be posed to those members who left the Ship of Zion. They should be asked how can they resolve to continue membership in churches that do not work to uplift the communities in which they live.

Lastly, Professor Glaude implied that we were witnessing the “routinization of black prophetic witness”- suggesting that, by virtue of The Black Church’s existence, its necessity is inherent. I question if this is a bad thing. When John Blassinggame described the Black Church as one of the community’s most enduring institutions in 1974, it was not hypothetical. When it was the only place one could find refuge from the master’s whip, The Black Church- in its infancy- stood for freedom. When it housed the Civil Rights Movement, The Black Church- as it began to mature- was our rock. Without The Black Church, we would have not understood the importance of gaining an identity that encompassed religious commitment and social responsibility. The Black Church was and is necessary. It proves its necessity when a mother, after losing her son to violence, can sit on a pew, hear a sermon and hymn and be comforted. It proves its necessity when a man, recently released from prison, can talk to the pastor and receive an opportunity for gainful employment from his recommendation. The beauty of a thing becoming routine is that it continues to become standard practice. When it comes to the social progression of our community, The Black Church should appreciate uniformity.

Finally, in his critique, Professor Glaude paints the bleak picture of Black America and asks “What will be the role of prophetic black churches on the national stage under these conditions?” My question in response: “Does it matter what churches do on the national stage if they’re performing effectively on the local one?” While not even I can ignore the conditions that affect African-Americans in disproportionate amounts, I do not believe that the solution to reducing those numbers is agreeing upon a unified agenda brought forth from an anointed national Black community Messiah and his disciples. Radical change must always begin locally. Even Jesus recognized this. Though His plan was to completely abolish the old rule and system, He did so by interacting with and changing the mindset of the people. Perhaps if many of those who call for Black Church reform would assist in it, the desire to see it move to the national stage would not exist.

But they would have to help us.

Many took Professor Glaude to task for engaging in a critique of The Black Church without being a member of one and/or assisting in its evolution and progression. They were correct. Critique cannot exist without accountability. Though Professor Glaude is clear in establishing himself as a philosopher, too many people have allowed the Black Community, and all its components, to be the place where they provided theory but no application. It cannot afford to have its native son advance this practice. The Black Church must be loved enough to be infiltrated by those who see its potential and will work to aid it transition into even greater power.

Is The Black Church dead? Of course not. Is it even dying? Not at all. But it is sick. Though The Black Church continues to be the greatest social welfare agency in it communities, the sustained impact of The Church’s involvement needs to be encouraged. As we adjust to life in this new millennium, The Church will have to adapt. Where it was fighting growth before, it must surrender. The theology taught in many of today's Black Churches must also be challenged. Too much of Black clergy are selectively and insufficiently preaching, leading to greater spiritual and social deficits among membership. Most importantly, the continued sexism in The Black Church must be questioned. When Black women can comprise over 85% of the congregation but less than 15% of its leadership, there is a problem. The Black Church is not without its obstacles. However, those that Professor Glaude put forth are not it. But just as willing as The Church needs to be open to critique, those who critique must be willing to work alongside those already committed to its growth and further it.

So when I’m asked why I didn’t attend The Black Church’s funeral, the answer is simple. There wasn’t one.


©Candice M. Benbow, 2010