I had two previous installments to warn me. I should’ve known better. How could I have possibly thought “Black in America 3” would actually be about real Black people…..in America? Maybe it was the title “Almighty Debt” that got me. I envisioned this lively discussion about the wealth of Black churches in proximity to the poverty of Black communities. There would be conversation about the weekly intake of our congregations and how much of that is reinvested into our communities. I just knew questions about fiscal responsibility and social accountability would have to be asked and answered. But that would have required actual research, concise objectives and realistic examples- resulting in a show that made sense. And well….that’s not necessarily what we’ve come to expect from “the most trusted name in news”.
Instead CNN spent two hours showing America had badly in debt Black Christians are. Using a 2009 Pew Study, which found that African-Americans were the most religious and most giving to their religious organizations than the country as a whole, CNN somehow sought to draw parallels between Black debt and Black spirituality. (I know right?!) The special chronicled New Jersey Pastor DeForest Soaries’ attempt to pull African Americans from the muck of financial lack and three families, within his congregation, experiencing the very thing he preaches against with fervor. The Jeffries were facing foreclosure. The husband, a luxury car salesman, and his wife, a real estate broker, had not paid their mortgage in 26 months. Fred, a high school senior, has dreams of attending college but his single mother doesn’t have the resources to send him. Carl is a husband who has been unemployed for more than a year but diligently works to find his next job. Though extremely different circumstances, CNN showed they all had one thing in common: They believe God would make a way, as we say in the Black Church say, out of no way.
Can anyone at CNN please tell me when every African-American became a Christian? I’ll wait. Does my cousin, who is very much Black and hasn’t attended a service since he had to begin buying his own Easter clothes, not exist? Is my friend, a possessor of melanin and Buddhist beliefs, invisible? I know for a fact that both of them are broke. But given that their spiritual focus didn’t fit the limited scope of this documentary, their debt (and that of many like them) isn’t calculated into the astronomical figure with the rest of us Negroes who love Jesus. I understand it wasn’t CNN’s intention to show the varied experiences within Black America but for those who watch their commentaries and believe they’re really getting a glimpse into our lives, please know that not all Black people are Christians. While it is the faith to which many African-Americans subscribe, it is not the only one- if they subscribe to one at all. The Black religious experience is as assorted as the hues of our skin. And even among the millions of us who profess Christianity, we do not practice or engage at the same levels or with matching intensity. So for all who now believe every Black person knows that Nehemiah is in the Old Testament and has been given the Right Hand of Fellowship, I hate to disappoint you.
Therein lies the problem. Anyone who has ever taken a statistics course knows the importance of correlations. Variables must have a relationship in order to have an effect. Can anyone at CNN tell me the correlation between being a Black Christian and being in dire financial straits? Again, I’ll wait. And while CNN didn’t come out and say that they were suggesting a relationship between the two, the implication was strong enough. The underlying story of faith drove the entire documentary. Every other shot was a clip of a Sunday morning service. Cameras got close ups of Carl’s tears as he enjoyed a personal worship moment. And they even had Cece Winans singing “Oh the Blood of Jesus”. CECE WINANS!!!! “OH THE BLOOD OF JESUS”!!!! You can’t get much more Black Church than Cece Winans and “Oh the Blood of Jesus”. And what made CNN’s intention more clear was Soledad’s question to Carl’s wife. After learning they’re always $2000 short on bills but faithfully pay tithes each month, Soledad asks if they’ve ever thought not to pay tithes so they could pay their bills. Without hesitation, the wife says no. There were those watching who shook their heads in disbelief and others who nodded theirs in agreement. This is the problem when you unfairly link spirituality and financial conditions. Within the Christian faith, tithing is very important and Scriptures speak to it being a commitment between God and the believer. One tithes because they believe that percentage of their income does not belong to them, but to their savior. To suggest that Blacks who are broke and tithe are broke because they tithe mocks their belief in a way that is beyond unconscionable.
African-Americans are not in debt because they give money to their churches. African-Americans are in debt because structures of inequality still exist. Pastor Soaries is incorrect. Debt is not a bigger problem than racism; debt is a product of racism. When Blacks are still subject to poor education, higher rates of chronic diseases, poor or nonexistent health care, expensive yet inferior housing and higher rates of unemployment more than Whites, how is debt their fault? It’s easy to suggest that African-Americans are poor because they buy $500 shoes when they only make $22,000 a year. How much effort does it take to accuse someone of going into foreclosure because they bought more house than they could afford? You never offend the oppressor when you blame the oppressed. There’s nothing groundbreaking about blaming Black people for their problems. Surprise me by asking employers why African-Americans are still paid less than their White counterparts and sometimes not even hired for specific positions. Ask bank CEOs why they, for years, did not approve the home loans of Black applicants and- when they finally did- preyed on their desire to be homeowners, offering predatory adjustable rates that made foreclosure inevitable. I am not excusing the importance of personal responsibility but let’s not ignore the systematic forces that are constantly working to ensure disproportion.
But it’s easy to see how many would think those systematic forces no longer exist with the family CNN chose to profile. How many Black families do you know that are 26 months behind in mortgage payments but have the money in 401K accounts to pay it? Seriously, I’ll wait. I forgot Black families like the Jeffries came in such unlimited supply and were perfect illustrations of African-Americans in debt. Really, who doesn’t remember being a high school senior racking up $400 worth of credit card debt every month while your parents fight the bank to keep their house and their money? That was a much more accurate depiction than the scores of middle and working class Black families who scale back in lifestyle and work hard to simply remain afloat each month.
I could not escape the feeling that “Almighty Debt” was a poor attempt to explain and a thinly veiled attack of Black spirituality. When one of those profiled spoke of their faith in God to transform their situation, Soledad’s narration constantly reminded viewers of their dismal circumstances. It almost seemed sarcastic at times: “The poor young Black boy has no father, no brother and no money for college but he has Jesus. The Jeffries haven’t paid a mortgage in two years but know God is going to make way. Carl has filled out 300 applications but feels in his spirit this next job belongs to him.” The resilient spirit of African-Americans is nothing new. The same fortitude that carried us through the horrors of slavery and Jim Crow carries us through financial oppression and withheld resources. We always survive when everything purposes to kill us. Perhaps that is what’s most fascinating to those trying to understand us. But faith in the Black community isn’t believing that God will let you keep your house when you don’t pay your mortgage. Faith in the Black community is paying your rent and believing that God will one day allow you to own a home. Faith in the Black community isn’t praising God in advance that your credit card won’t get declined buying shoes you don’t need. Faith in the Black community is praising God in advance for finding a way to buy the shoes your child needs when the money is nowhere in sight. African-Americans, in totality, are not frivolous spenders who’d rather spend our last today than save for tomorrow. And we’re not these infantile dreamers who believe that some man sitting on a throne up in the clouds is going to give us everything we want even if we don’t work for it. We are an eclectic people who believe in many things but, most importantly, we believe in the power of ourselves to find creative ways to exist and thrive within a society that will do whatever it can to keep that from happening. That is who we are.
That is being Black in America.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
In Order To Form A More Perfect Union: Beginning Healthy and Productive Dialogue on the State of the Black Church
Since news of a sex scandal involving prominent mega church pastor Bishop Eddie Long surfaced earlier this week, the Black Church has been in a tailspin. Though still disheartening, had just a few circumstances in this case been different, it would have been a little easier for the Church to digest. Had the accusers been women, this may have simply been the tale of a pastor with a roaming eye or a woman scorned. But that is not the case. The accusers, who speak candidly of Long’s victimization, are men- opening the tightly sealed can of worms that is sexuality, homophobia and the Black Church. A sensitive topic, the Church is now forced to confront an issue from which we have unnecessarily dodged. But is this the true issue at hand?
While, on the surface, this unfortunate situation sheds light on a subject too long ignored in the Black religious community, it also brings questions of leadership and accountability to the forefront. In the coming weeks and months, the legal aspect of Bishop Long’s scandal will be resolved. However, that will do nothing to heal the wound that has been inflicted on the credibility and integrity of the Black Church and those who lead it. Indeed, the Church has suffered a severe hit. But our recovery is dependent upon what we do now. The Church has seen scandal before. Be it sexual or financial impropriety, we have already been here. Unless we’d like to be here again, it is imperative that we conduct the self assessment that will lead to us exposing our flawed systems of practice and strengthening ourselves if our survival is desired.
So, let’s talk.
This need not be the traditional sugar cookies and watered down fruit punch Sunday afternoon meeting held where nothing gets resolved because people, tired from being in service all day, are ready to go home. This can’t even be the conversation that follows the standard “leadership talks for an hour and leaves five minutes for Q&A” format we see in congregations almost everywhere. No, this needs to be lengthy, uncomfortable, emotional dialogue that gets to fundamental problems, root causes and potential solutions. Action items, commitments to change and concrete steps to implement that change should be the outcome of such a gathering.
Yes, it will be necessary to speak to notions of class, gender, sexuality, leadership and fiscal responsibility and our questions should focused. In this dialogue, we should raise inquiry such as: Who are we and where are we? What do we teach and what do we believe? Who do we help and how do we help them? What do we spend and what do we give? Who have we healed and who have we hurt? What do we have and why do we have it? Who leads us and why do they lead? And even through creating the freedom to be allowed to ask and answer those questions honestly, our probe should go further:
What, if anything, has the modern day Black Church accomplished?
Why does the treatment of those who live alternative lifestyles by the Church completely contradict the love that saved the Church?
Why is our leadership no longer morally, professionally and financially accountable to membership?
Why does there remain a substantial difference between the economic prosperity of the Church and the economic poverty in the communities in which the Church is located?
Why do misogynistic practices remain that continue to sexually objectify women and neutralize their potential to be greater leaders within our faith?
Why has the Church not taken a more active role in assisting Black youth overcome the insurmountable odds they face?
Why has the Church not adequately prepared the next generations for leadership?
When did the Church become a business and no longer a social service agency?
Why did the Church abandon the liberation theology that freed us to embrace a prosperity gospel that is enslaving us?
This is not everything that needs to be asked and answered; the list of questions could become exhaustive. People want answers and deserve them. We can no longer move forward in the blind faith that God will make provision while we do not question how the resources we already have are being allocated. The cost has become too great to ignore our social responsibility to the community that has shouldered us. The treatment of women, children, gays and others by the Church has led to unconscionable pain and we must finally be held accountable. The Church must admit that in our quest to redeem the sinner, our own sins became great.
I would hope that the leaders of the denominations that govern our churches use this as an opportunity to create this kind of national dialogue. It is my desire that clergy come together locally to have citywide discussions and even create channels of communication within their own congregations. To ignore such a clear clarion call for conversation and change suggests that, as a collective, the Black Church remains unconcerned with our perception or believes the problems brewing within our walls are either trivial or nonexistent. Either position is not only destructive but perpetuates the agony many have suffered in silence for far too long.
No one knows how this particular situation will be resolved; neither do we know when we begin to learn of the many other instances of questionable activity that are occurring in congregations everywhere. What is known is that if we do not begin the honest conversation on where the Black Church is, where we are going and how we stand in our own way, we will never fully realize the potential of what we could become. And the far reaching consequences of such negligence are inconceivable.
While, on the surface, this unfortunate situation sheds light on a subject too long ignored in the Black religious community, it also brings questions of leadership and accountability to the forefront. In the coming weeks and months, the legal aspect of Bishop Long’s scandal will be resolved. However, that will do nothing to heal the wound that has been inflicted on the credibility and integrity of the Black Church and those who lead it. Indeed, the Church has suffered a severe hit. But our recovery is dependent upon what we do now. The Church has seen scandal before. Be it sexual or financial impropriety, we have already been here. Unless we’d like to be here again, it is imperative that we conduct the self assessment that will lead to us exposing our flawed systems of practice and strengthening ourselves if our survival is desired.
So, let’s talk.
This need not be the traditional sugar cookies and watered down fruit punch Sunday afternoon meeting held where nothing gets resolved because people, tired from being in service all day, are ready to go home. This can’t even be the conversation that follows the standard “leadership talks for an hour and leaves five minutes for Q&A” format we see in congregations almost everywhere. No, this needs to be lengthy, uncomfortable, emotional dialogue that gets to fundamental problems, root causes and potential solutions. Action items, commitments to change and concrete steps to implement that change should be the outcome of such a gathering.
Yes, it will be necessary to speak to notions of class, gender, sexuality, leadership and fiscal responsibility and our questions should focused. In this dialogue, we should raise inquiry such as: Who are we and where are we? What do we teach and what do we believe? Who do we help and how do we help them? What do we spend and what do we give? Who have we healed and who have we hurt? What do we have and why do we have it? Who leads us and why do they lead? And even through creating the freedom to be allowed to ask and answer those questions honestly, our probe should go further:
What, if anything, has the modern day Black Church accomplished?
Why does the treatment of those who live alternative lifestyles by the Church completely contradict the love that saved the Church?
Why is our leadership no longer morally, professionally and financially accountable to membership?
Why does there remain a substantial difference between the economic prosperity of the Church and the economic poverty in the communities in which the Church is located?
Why do misogynistic practices remain that continue to sexually objectify women and neutralize their potential to be greater leaders within our faith?
Why has the Church not taken a more active role in assisting Black youth overcome the insurmountable odds they face?
Why has the Church not adequately prepared the next generations for leadership?
When did the Church become a business and no longer a social service agency?
Why did the Church abandon the liberation theology that freed us to embrace a prosperity gospel that is enslaving us?
This is not everything that needs to be asked and answered; the list of questions could become exhaustive. People want answers and deserve them. We can no longer move forward in the blind faith that God will make provision while we do not question how the resources we already have are being allocated. The cost has become too great to ignore our social responsibility to the community that has shouldered us. The treatment of women, children, gays and others by the Church has led to unconscionable pain and we must finally be held accountable. The Church must admit that in our quest to redeem the sinner, our own sins became great.
I would hope that the leaders of the denominations that govern our churches use this as an opportunity to create this kind of national dialogue. It is my desire that clergy come together locally to have citywide discussions and even create channels of communication within their own congregations. To ignore such a clear clarion call for conversation and change suggests that, as a collective, the Black Church remains unconcerned with our perception or believes the problems brewing within our walls are either trivial or nonexistent. Either position is not only destructive but perpetuates the agony many have suffered in silence for far too long.
No one knows how this particular situation will be resolved; neither do we know when we begin to learn of the many other instances of questionable activity that are occurring in congregations everywhere. What is known is that if we do not begin the honest conversation on where the Black Church is, where we are going and how we stand in our own way, we will never fully realize the potential of what we could become. And the far reaching consequences of such negligence are inconceivable.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Casualties of Spiritual Warfare (Part Two): The Black Church as a Weapon to Fight Against
As I was still processing my uncle’s loaded statement and thinking about the casualties in the Black Church’s war against structural inequality and institutionalized racism, my mind began to think of my friends who’d become disinterested in church because of the unnecessary politics. I thought about the stories many have shared with me about being abused and manipulated by church leadership. Then it hit me. Not only has the Church disengaged itself from being a weapon in spiritual warfare, it has created a new set of challenges that now makes it a weapon to be fought against in spiritual warfare.
We call it “church hurt”. Preachers include it in sermons and discuss it in Bible studies. Scholars have included it in books on healing and overcoming pain. However, church hurt does not nearly get as much discussion as necessary. It is sometimes impossible to conceive that the place where you are supposed to see the best of people is where you actually see the worst. Those who fight against it are ostracized. In essence, in the church, there is the battle between good and evil.
And as my uncle said, there are always casualties.
The Church has failed itself. Unaccountable and pious leadership, irresponsible spending, an inability to transition from tradition and a failure to meet the needs of membership have been some of the key contributors to some of the problems the Church has faced. It is not the problems itself but the reluctance to identify and find solutions to them that cause the fatalities in this particular war. The casualties are found in three categories.
Physical Death
In the Scriptures, any time there was a battle (physical or spiritual) there was a death. In war, they are called “necessary casualties”; sometimes people have to die in order for the mission to be accomplished. It is the same in the realm of the Spirit. On one hand, salvation could not have been possible without a death. We are grateful for that necessary casualty. But what about those deaths we didn’t realize were integral to the manifestation of God’s purpose and plan? So many find refuge in Isaiah 6 because of its description of the majesty of God. They can quote the first verse with ease: “In the year King Uzziah died, I saw also the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple.” Has anyone ever stopped to find out who King Uzziah was? His story begins in II Chronicles when, at the age of 16, he became the king of Israel after his father was killed. Though he helped restore Israel to its former glory, Uzziah later got arrogant. He asserted himself higher than God in worship and disobeyed the laws set forth. When the elders confronted him, Uzziah remained firm in his defiance. God afflicted Uzziah with leprosy as a consequence and he spent the rest of his life in seclusion; his son served as king in his absence. While Uzziah was “away”, he was still king and Israel was under the submission of a king who violated God’s command and refused to accept his responsibility. When he died, it was as if Israel was freed again. In order for Israel to begin to “see” God in the way they had before, Uzziah had to be removed from the situation and death was the only option.
Though not documented, I know many churches that have experienced a “freedom” or sorts after a death in their congregation. It may have been a member who bucked against new ideas at every step or tormented leadership and other members. It may have been a pastor who ruled the church with an iron fist with little to no compassion for the sheep he was entrusted. It may have been a faithful and dedicated member, whose death caused leadership and the congregation to reflect and reevaluate. Additionally, down through the years, stories were told of those who “grieved themselves to death” behind a hurt they experienced in the Church. Sadly, extreme hurt like this is not uncommon in Black Churches. Regardless of the circumstances, when war has to be waged against God’s house so that it can be set in order, the consequences may include the loss of physical life.
Spiritual Death
Possibly more detrimental than physical death is a spiritual one. Ultimately, the end of life is a decision no longer in the hands of the individual. Spiritual death can be likened to a form of suicide, as the individual chooses to starve their spiritual beings because of a hurt experienced in the Church. Scriptures admonishes us to study to show ourselves approved, commune together with fellow saints and crave spiritual food as babies crave milk; but a person who has experienced church hurt can do anything from stopping church attendance to abandoning the faith altogether. For instance, the largest demographic missing in the Black Church is African-American men. While this trend has been studied, most Black men attribute their absence from church to an incident or series of negative interactions they or someone closed to them faced. Spiritual death is one of the greatest threats to the development of future generations of ministry leaders and lay workers.
It is important to know that while everyone may not experience spiritual death and become a casualty of spiritual warfare, many suffer with great spiritual fatigue. It is important to note that this fatigue is not as extreme as a spiritual death because those affected may still attend and work diligently in church and do all necessary to affirm their faith outside of their congregational commitments. It is also important to state that spiritual fatigue may not even be a result of church hurt. Victims of spiritual fatigue are simply those who’ve grown weary of consistently doing “right” with no sight of a reward. They are those who have tired in the midst of the manifestation of God’s work in their life. Honestly, it’s not difficult to do. Whether it’s a professional, personal or spiritual goal set, if it seems that it will take an eternity to accomplish, it is easy to give up and become frustrated. Churches that do not provide constant support in this area, through preaching, teaching and other assistance, perpetuate fatigue. If spiritual fatigue is ignored, it can easily lead to spiritual death.
Church Flight
As we look at the battle against the Church, casualties we cannot afford to ignore are those who leave one church and seek membership elsewhere because the problems encountered and hurt experienced there were too great. In his 1990 study, “Explaining the Church Member Rate”, Bainbridge found that social bond theory was the greatest indicator of why a member would join and remain with a congregation. When people form strong bonds within a congregation, they are likely to stay there and be integral and committed to the work of that church. However, a severely negative encounter can cause one to abandon that commitment. Church flight makes it extremely difficult to assess church growth and the impact the faith has on nonbelievers. Also, this abandonment causes the gifts necessary for the growth and development to be stripped.
How does it feel to have the place where you’re supposed to lay your burdens become where you pick up more of them? What do you do when the person you worship God with is the one who wounds you? The Church has allowed itself in many ways to become a sanctuary where more are hurt than healed. If The Church desires to become a weapon that we fight principalities with and not a weapon that we fight against, it must take the necessary steps to rid itself of the demonic forces that is causing it to kill itself.
©CMB, 2010 (08.04)
We call it “church hurt”. Preachers include it in sermons and discuss it in Bible studies. Scholars have included it in books on healing and overcoming pain. However, church hurt does not nearly get as much discussion as necessary. It is sometimes impossible to conceive that the place where you are supposed to see the best of people is where you actually see the worst. Those who fight against it are ostracized. In essence, in the church, there is the battle between good and evil.
And as my uncle said, there are always casualties.
The Church has failed itself. Unaccountable and pious leadership, irresponsible spending, an inability to transition from tradition and a failure to meet the needs of membership have been some of the key contributors to some of the problems the Church has faced. It is not the problems itself but the reluctance to identify and find solutions to them that cause the fatalities in this particular war. The casualties are found in three categories.
Physical Death
In the Scriptures, any time there was a battle (physical or spiritual) there was a death. In war, they are called “necessary casualties”; sometimes people have to die in order for the mission to be accomplished. It is the same in the realm of the Spirit. On one hand, salvation could not have been possible without a death. We are grateful for that necessary casualty. But what about those deaths we didn’t realize were integral to the manifestation of God’s purpose and plan? So many find refuge in Isaiah 6 because of its description of the majesty of God. They can quote the first verse with ease: “In the year King Uzziah died, I saw also the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple.” Has anyone ever stopped to find out who King Uzziah was? His story begins in II Chronicles when, at the age of 16, he became the king of Israel after his father was killed. Though he helped restore Israel to its former glory, Uzziah later got arrogant. He asserted himself higher than God in worship and disobeyed the laws set forth. When the elders confronted him, Uzziah remained firm in his defiance. God afflicted Uzziah with leprosy as a consequence and he spent the rest of his life in seclusion; his son served as king in his absence. While Uzziah was “away”, he was still king and Israel was under the submission of a king who violated God’s command and refused to accept his responsibility. When he died, it was as if Israel was freed again. In order for Israel to begin to “see” God in the way they had before, Uzziah had to be removed from the situation and death was the only option.
Though not documented, I know many churches that have experienced a “freedom” or sorts after a death in their congregation. It may have been a member who bucked against new ideas at every step or tormented leadership and other members. It may have been a pastor who ruled the church with an iron fist with little to no compassion for the sheep he was entrusted. It may have been a faithful and dedicated member, whose death caused leadership and the congregation to reflect and reevaluate. Additionally, down through the years, stories were told of those who “grieved themselves to death” behind a hurt they experienced in the Church. Sadly, extreme hurt like this is not uncommon in Black Churches. Regardless of the circumstances, when war has to be waged against God’s house so that it can be set in order, the consequences may include the loss of physical life.
Spiritual Death
Possibly more detrimental than physical death is a spiritual one. Ultimately, the end of life is a decision no longer in the hands of the individual. Spiritual death can be likened to a form of suicide, as the individual chooses to starve their spiritual beings because of a hurt experienced in the Church. Scriptures admonishes us to study to show ourselves approved, commune together with fellow saints and crave spiritual food as babies crave milk; but a person who has experienced church hurt can do anything from stopping church attendance to abandoning the faith altogether. For instance, the largest demographic missing in the Black Church is African-American men. While this trend has been studied, most Black men attribute their absence from church to an incident or series of negative interactions they or someone closed to them faced. Spiritual death is one of the greatest threats to the development of future generations of ministry leaders and lay workers.
It is important to know that while everyone may not experience spiritual death and become a casualty of spiritual warfare, many suffer with great spiritual fatigue. It is important to note that this fatigue is not as extreme as a spiritual death because those affected may still attend and work diligently in church and do all necessary to affirm their faith outside of their congregational commitments. It is also important to state that spiritual fatigue may not even be a result of church hurt. Victims of spiritual fatigue are simply those who’ve grown weary of consistently doing “right” with no sight of a reward. They are those who have tired in the midst of the manifestation of God’s work in their life. Honestly, it’s not difficult to do. Whether it’s a professional, personal or spiritual goal set, if it seems that it will take an eternity to accomplish, it is easy to give up and become frustrated. Churches that do not provide constant support in this area, through preaching, teaching and other assistance, perpetuate fatigue. If spiritual fatigue is ignored, it can easily lead to spiritual death.
Church Flight
As we look at the battle against the Church, casualties we cannot afford to ignore are those who leave one church and seek membership elsewhere because the problems encountered and hurt experienced there were too great. In his 1990 study, “Explaining the Church Member Rate”, Bainbridge found that social bond theory was the greatest indicator of why a member would join and remain with a congregation. When people form strong bonds within a congregation, they are likely to stay there and be integral and committed to the work of that church. However, a severely negative encounter can cause one to abandon that commitment. Church flight makes it extremely difficult to assess church growth and the impact the faith has on nonbelievers. Also, this abandonment causes the gifts necessary for the growth and development to be stripped.
How does it feel to have the place where you’re supposed to lay your burdens become where you pick up more of them? What do you do when the person you worship God with is the one who wounds you? The Church has allowed itself in many ways to become a sanctuary where more are hurt than healed. If The Church desires to become a weapon that we fight principalities with and not a weapon that we fight against, it must take the necessary steps to rid itself of the demonic forces that is causing it to kill itself.
©CMB, 2010 (08.04)
Casualties of Spiritual Warfare (Part One): The Black Church as a Weapon to Fight With
Sunday evening, I was discussing with my family the current state of Black churches. As I was telling my uncle how my heart was breaking for those who are subjected to what seems to be constant attempts to manipulate and control, my uncle simply said “Well, you know there are casualties of spiritual warfare too. We just don’t talk about them.”
Wait….what???
There are casualties of spiritual warfare?!
I listened intently as my uncle talked about how, in war, there are always casualties; it’s inescapable. A soldier who enlists in the army knows there is a possibility military personnel will knock on the door of a loved one to inform them of their death. Knowing this, they take the oath to serve anyway. Saints in the church of old would sing confidently “I’m on the battlefield for my Lord. Yes, I’m on the battlefield for my Lord. And I promised Him that I would serve Him until I die. I’m on the battlefield for my Lord!” Though they sang with such conviction of their commitment to the faith and the commander of the army, even they didn’t dream their death could possibly be at the hands of the organism created to sustain them: The Church.
But that’s what’s happening.
Today’s church, though still an esteemed institution, is just a shell of what it used to be. Scholar W.E.B. Du Bois asserted that while the Black Church was the center of African-American life, the church had six major functions. They were 1) the raising of the annual budget, 2) the maintenance of membership, 3) social intercourse and amusements, 4) the setting of moral standards, 5) promotion of general intelligence and 6) efforts for social betterment. Though each function is necessary to the progression of the church and African-American community, the last function Du Bois identified is of importance to this discussion. The task of Black congregations was to provide the type of assistance that enabled its members, and those in the community, to successfully thrive in society. Paramount needs in the African-American community were education and mentoring, substance abuse and health prevention, job training and employment assistance. Those needs remain the same today. Because its mission is as social as it is spiritual, combating these issues in its community is the battle Black Churches must be prepared to fight. Through this, they engage in spiritual warfare.
But what is spiritual warfare?
Almost every Christian can recite Ephesians 6:10-12: “Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand again the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” We use it to explain the concept of spiritual warfare, which is a demonic attempt to prevent God’s will from being manifested in the earth. Pastors preach this text. Emails circulate daily with instructions on how the enemy is defeated and how God’s children reign victorious. Yet, has anyone asked the Church exactly what they’re fighting? It’s easy for the Church to say it’s fighting Satan but fighting him in what? When the Black Church tackles the issues plaguing the community in which it’s housed, it is engaging in spiritual warfare. But do we see it that way? As a Sociologist, I understand structural inequality. I understand how capitalism is constructed to systematically oppress. In the natural realm, institutionalized racism is credited for disparities in economics, education, employment, health and housing. However, in the realm of the spirit, I know that because structural inequality and institutionalized racism are evil, they are controlled by forces that completely contradict the force that established the Church. For that reason alone, it has to fight it. But is it winning?
All roads lead to that answer being No. When examining data from The National Congregations Study and The Institute of Church Administration and Management, less than 60% of Black Churches have ministries addressing the target areas critical to the growth of the African American community. This does not negate the great strides many churches are making in the area of community development but national statistics speak for themselves. With an unemployment rate of 15.4%, high school graduation rates vacillating between 50 and 60% and African-Americans dying at faster rates due to a significant number of health disparities, it would seem as if the Church’s arms have become tired.
On any given Sunday, it is impossible not to hear someone sing or say “The battle is not ours; it is the Lord’s.” While that is true, it is still necessary that we suit up and prepare for the fight. The African-American community cannot afford to be defenseless against the demonic forces of structural inequality and institutionalized racism and the Black Church can’t bear the cost of not being a defender. As the Black Church could not separate its social ideology from its spiritual convictions during the Civil Rights Movement, so it must be today. There’s a war going on and we can’t keep killing our civilians when we’re supposed to be protecting them.
©CMB, 2010 (08.04)
Wait….what???
There are casualties of spiritual warfare?!
I listened intently as my uncle talked about how, in war, there are always casualties; it’s inescapable. A soldier who enlists in the army knows there is a possibility military personnel will knock on the door of a loved one to inform them of their death. Knowing this, they take the oath to serve anyway. Saints in the church of old would sing confidently “I’m on the battlefield for my Lord. Yes, I’m on the battlefield for my Lord. And I promised Him that I would serve Him until I die. I’m on the battlefield for my Lord!” Though they sang with such conviction of their commitment to the faith and the commander of the army, even they didn’t dream their death could possibly be at the hands of the organism created to sustain them: The Church.
But that’s what’s happening.
Today’s church, though still an esteemed institution, is just a shell of what it used to be. Scholar W.E.B. Du Bois asserted that while the Black Church was the center of African-American life, the church had six major functions. They were 1) the raising of the annual budget, 2) the maintenance of membership, 3) social intercourse and amusements, 4) the setting of moral standards, 5) promotion of general intelligence and 6) efforts for social betterment. Though each function is necessary to the progression of the church and African-American community, the last function Du Bois identified is of importance to this discussion. The task of Black congregations was to provide the type of assistance that enabled its members, and those in the community, to successfully thrive in society. Paramount needs in the African-American community were education and mentoring, substance abuse and health prevention, job training and employment assistance. Those needs remain the same today. Because its mission is as social as it is spiritual, combating these issues in its community is the battle Black Churches must be prepared to fight. Through this, they engage in spiritual warfare.
But what is spiritual warfare?
Almost every Christian can recite Ephesians 6:10-12: “Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand again the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” We use it to explain the concept of spiritual warfare, which is a demonic attempt to prevent God’s will from being manifested in the earth. Pastors preach this text. Emails circulate daily with instructions on how the enemy is defeated and how God’s children reign victorious. Yet, has anyone asked the Church exactly what they’re fighting? It’s easy for the Church to say it’s fighting Satan but fighting him in what? When the Black Church tackles the issues plaguing the community in which it’s housed, it is engaging in spiritual warfare. But do we see it that way? As a Sociologist, I understand structural inequality. I understand how capitalism is constructed to systematically oppress. In the natural realm, institutionalized racism is credited for disparities in economics, education, employment, health and housing. However, in the realm of the spirit, I know that because structural inequality and institutionalized racism are evil, they are controlled by forces that completely contradict the force that established the Church. For that reason alone, it has to fight it. But is it winning?
All roads lead to that answer being No. When examining data from The National Congregations Study and The Institute of Church Administration and Management, less than 60% of Black Churches have ministries addressing the target areas critical to the growth of the African American community. This does not negate the great strides many churches are making in the area of community development but national statistics speak for themselves. With an unemployment rate of 15.4%, high school graduation rates vacillating between 50 and 60% and African-Americans dying at faster rates due to a significant number of health disparities, it would seem as if the Church’s arms have become tired.
On any given Sunday, it is impossible not to hear someone sing or say “The battle is not ours; it is the Lord’s.” While that is true, it is still necessary that we suit up and prepare for the fight. The African-American community cannot afford to be defenseless against the demonic forces of structural inequality and institutionalized racism and the Black Church can’t bear the cost of not being a defender. As the Black Church could not separate its social ideology from its spiritual convictions during the Civil Rights Movement, so it must be today. There’s a war going on and we can’t keep killing our civilians when we’re supposed to be protecting them.
©CMB, 2010 (08.04)
Saturday, May 29, 2010
There Is No Fear
There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. – 1 John 4:18 (NIV)
Love is such a novelty, a rarely painted masterpiece.
A place few people go or ever know.
An underwater rocket love- exactly what I'm searching for.
You're brave enough to go? Tell me so.
Say you'll go to Nirvana. Will you leave Samsara?
In the words of Dhammapada: Who will lead? Who will follow?
Our love will sail in this ark. The world could end outside our window.
Let's find forever and write our name in fire on each other's hearts.
– “Say You’ll Go”, Janelle Monae
I had a conversation with someone who has become very special to me last night. I shared a shared a prayer I’d been praying concerning them. Recognizing that it’s all about purpose, my prayer was that God allowed them to gain greater perspective in their walk with Him and so that God’s purpose for our interactions would be clear to us and as effective as possible. Though I may have desires on what I’d like that to be, I realize that what I want doesn’t have anything to do with what God plans for me to have. And I am not afraid of whatever that is.
Why?
Because there is no fear in love.
and God is love.
Therefore, there is no fear in God.
When God brings something into your life, He’s only bringing more of Himself.
I went to bed with an assurance that my prayer would yield more love, more Him- regardless the design. And, amazingly, when I saw the sun this morning, I welcomed the biggest smile I could. It was something about seeing that particular portrait of Heaven that told me more love was on the way and I had absolutely nothing to fear.
And after hearing Janelle Monae, I believed it.
Today, I experienced how beautiful love sounds when it’s set to music. It is majestic. I smiled. I believed. And as soon as she said “Love is such a novelty- a rarely painted masterpiece”, I cried. I mean I cried. My heart began to bleed for people who don’t know what it means to love- to have the love of God, self, community, humanity….ecology. People are suffering when they don’t have to be. And it takes a great deal to decide you’ll stop hurting- which underscores Janelle’s desire.
Say you'll go to Nirvana. Will you leave Samsara?
In the words of Dhammapada: Who will lead? Who will follow?
Our love will sail in this ark. The world could end outside our window.
Let's find forever and write our name in fire on each other's hearts.
In Eastern religions (particularly Buddhism), Nirvana, Samsara and Dhammapada are the equivalent of the Christian’s Heaven, Hell and the Word of God. In essence, she’s asking if we believe experiencing freedom is worth ending suffering, with only love to sustain us and endure.
You can’t possess love and be afraid to share it.
You can’t desire love and be afraid to receive it.
You can’t crave freedom and be afraid to embrace it.
You can’t request purpose and be afraid to realize it.
You cannot be afraid.
There can be no fear in love.
There can be no fear in God.
That doesn’t mean love won’t hurt. It does. It is not easy. But even in that, God allows our pain to be productive and manufacture higher and necessary dimensions of love in order to be what we need and who we need to be.
If it’s even possible, my smile is bigger and brighter.
I am not afraid.
I am not afraid.
I am not afraid.
©Candice Marie Benbow, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Introduce Me To Love
We are living in some very interesting times. While fighting two wars, internationally, one is brewing within our own borders. It seems that every day we receive breaking news of a disaster, either natural or man-made, that claims the lives of many and leaves more destitute. We face the dawn with great uncertainty. Will we have jobs by the end of the day? Will we have homes by the end of the week? Will we even live to see tomorrow? These are questions people ask daily and the answers frighten them.
My friend Anna called me Thursday with an epiphany. She was quitting her job, moving to Ghana and minimizing the “wants” in her life so that she could be of greater service to others. Then she said something that I’m still wrapping my mind around this very minute. She said “Candice, I need to be more productive with my life. I need to love more.” On the surface, one would say Anna’s delusional; she’s highly educated and has a job with great occupational prestige. Why would she give that up? Isn’t that what we all strive toward?
As much as I appreciate my friend’s intention to embrace a life of which she could be proud, it was her confession that she needed more love in her life that swept me away. Grant it, she and I are both single and look forward to the day when we’re paired with our forever, but that wasn’t the love that moved Anna to awakening. This representation of God’s love realized that she was lacking it in her own life. And to possess and personify love, Anna would do anything. Even move a thousand miles away.
But isn’t that what we need? Marianne Williamson called it “a return to love” but I think some of us need to be introduced to it first. Do we really know love? If we did, would we be comfortable placing ourselves in situations that undermine our potential and greatness? Have we ever met love? If we have, why didn’t the encounter cause us to incorporate more of it in our lives? Love is not some tangible or sometimes unexplainable emotion that is felt between two people. It is the highest sense of self.
It is love that causes me to speak for people who will never know their voice has been silenced.
It is love that enables me to avail myself as a vessel through which I pour into others and allow them to pour into me.
It is love that permits me to be the greatness my dreams are incapable of envisioning I can become.
This world is moving too fast and is becoming too ugly. The beauty of love makes life bearable. I, like my friend, need more of it. We all do. Until we are willing to do what it takes to become acquainted with love, we are not living. It can be as simplistic as seeing the best of myself in the worst of man and loving it into light. It can be as complicated as seeing the best of myself in the worst of myself and loving it into light. Regardless of the direction, love is the necessary path.
Though it will be some time before Anna is physically in Ghana, her spirit is already there. She loved herself enough to set herself free. If only we all were as courageous. For it is in that moment of courage when we shake the hand of the future and greet it with anticipation’s smile.
©Candice M. Benbow, 2010
My friend Anna called me Thursday with an epiphany. She was quitting her job, moving to Ghana and minimizing the “wants” in her life so that she could be of greater service to others. Then she said something that I’m still wrapping my mind around this very minute. She said “Candice, I need to be more productive with my life. I need to love more.” On the surface, one would say Anna’s delusional; she’s highly educated and has a job with great occupational prestige. Why would she give that up? Isn’t that what we all strive toward?
As much as I appreciate my friend’s intention to embrace a life of which she could be proud, it was her confession that she needed more love in her life that swept me away. Grant it, she and I are both single and look forward to the day when we’re paired with our forever, but that wasn’t the love that moved Anna to awakening. This representation of God’s love realized that she was lacking it in her own life. And to possess and personify love, Anna would do anything. Even move a thousand miles away.
But isn’t that what we need? Marianne Williamson called it “a return to love” but I think some of us need to be introduced to it first. Do we really know love? If we did, would we be comfortable placing ourselves in situations that undermine our potential and greatness? Have we ever met love? If we have, why didn’t the encounter cause us to incorporate more of it in our lives? Love is not some tangible or sometimes unexplainable emotion that is felt between two people. It is the highest sense of self.
It is love that causes me to speak for people who will never know their voice has been silenced.
It is love that enables me to avail myself as a vessel through which I pour into others and allow them to pour into me.
It is love that permits me to be the greatness my dreams are incapable of envisioning I can become.
This world is moving too fast and is becoming too ugly. The beauty of love makes life bearable. I, like my friend, need more of it. We all do. Until we are willing to do what it takes to become acquainted with love, we are not living. It can be as simplistic as seeing the best of myself in the worst of man and loving it into light. It can be as complicated as seeing the best of myself in the worst of myself and loving it into light. Regardless of the direction, love is the necessary path.
Though it will be some time before Anna is physically in Ghana, her spirit is already there. She loved herself enough to set herself free. If only we all were as courageous. For it is in that moment of courage when we shake the hand of the future and greet it with anticipation’s smile.
©Candice M. Benbow, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
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
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
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