A Sinner, Secularism, and (true) Salvation

Is American Christianity good for Black Americans?

The last handful of days, I’ve been sitting with some hard and heavy thoughts; trying to navigate and sift through the mess that is my mind. I often make the joke that my mind is one of the scariest places on Earth, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else to have to sit with some of the thoughts that I frequent. I’ve sat in a bit of isolation, after being made aware that my mind - my thought processes - might be a bit too much for others. And, I’ve always known that I’m ‘A LOT’. So, as not to subject others to my muchness, I’ve self-isolated and started to try to make sense of my thoughts. What I’ve been experiencing during this time, is this innate move towards speaking to a higher power. Speaking to someone, something, that understands me, that won’t run away from me and the messiest thoughts I have.

It hasn’t been lost on me that this was all happening over Easter weekend. One of the highest of holy days for the Christian religion. A religion that, in a former life, I was heavily involved. And so, my messy thoughts evolved into contemplating the ways in which American Christianity has continued to oppress Black Americans. Much of my racial trauma came at the hands of American Christianity. So, here we are today, me trying to better understand my own mental health challenges, while unraveling how religion has colonized my country, my people, and our minds.

This weekend, the movie Sinners, starring Michael B. Jordan and directed by Ryan Coogler, was released. While I have yet to see it (it’s not readily available in South Korea), I’ve seen enough of the commentary online from the Black community. Lots of it is praising the movie for its depiction of Black spirituality, but the counter is calling it demonic and anti-Christian. This type of commentary isn’t new in the Black community, especially when one of us mentions that we aren’t Christian or that we have a different belief system. Somehow, those of us who’ve decided to live our lives outside of the ideologies of Christianity are seen as ‘barbaric’ and/or ‘demonic’; and that is especially true when I look at the Black community.

The Bible has done more damage to humanity than the ‘Devil’ himself.

So, here’s what I’m wrestling with right now: how are people, and most especially Black Americans, so committed to the practice and proselytizing of this religion that has been the bedrock of so much oppression and trauma in our communities? That’s not to say, that other faith practices don’t have their own form of oppressive ways of being, because they do. I’m really struggling with our (the Black community) commitment to this faith system that was used to enslave us, punish us, and rob us of our humanity and dignity. And what’s more, is thinking about the ways that we choose to practice our faith. I’m not so wrapped up in white dominance to think that Christianity was only introduced to Black folks by white overseers and masters, but I do believe that the ways in which we practice Christianity has been because of the white washed version of salvation that we’ve been fed over many generations. A version of salvation that keeps us smiling and docile. I believe that returning to a form of African spirituality after being indoctrinated into Christianity is a way to return to who we were, before ‘they’ told us who to be.

“Sweet baby Jesus and the grown one, too!”

- Barbara Howard (Sheryl Lee Ralph), Abbott Elementary

As someone who is studying Voodoo and Voudon, often times when I mention that, people (mostly Black people) take a step back, as if I’ve decided in that moment to put some sort of hex on them. I often hear things like, “we don’t mess with those spirits” or “I don’t mess with magic and those demonic rituals”, etc.. Now, do I spend time sitting and communing with my ancestors? Yes. Do, I try to understand how to honor and live on/with the Earth, which can include making potions and salves? Yes. I’m always wondering how what I do, what others who practice these ‘alternative’ belief systems, are doing, is anything different that the blood magic that is practiced during the Christian communion. Because, if you don’t know, let me tell you, drinking the ‘blood’ of your savior as a way to honor them, is ABSOLUTELY blood magic. Wearing and displaying the instrument used to kill your savior (the cross) is a form of perverse worship that I don’t have the time or patience to explain. The Easter holiday is a celebration of, to be a bit crude and straightforward, a Zombie. And, I’m not judging your blood magic. The same way I’d like for you to not judge my blood magic, or zombie worship. I’m wondering if there is something missing in your particular brand of blood magic that would be in more alignment with our ancestry and traditions than that of the people who use to force themselves on our ancestors.

Have Black Americans studied what Christianity looks and feels like on the home continent? In the Middle East? Or have we simply allowed ourselves to lean into a form of faith that continues to push the ideas of oppression onto others (the queer community, women/girls, people like me with severe mental health challenges, etc.)? Have we accepted the commercialization of the Christian faith in America and allowed prosperity gospel and the idea of the ‘worthy poor’ (that is the idea that some people are more worthy of help and assistance than others based on how we judge their moral fortitude or failings. For example, a single mother that is widowed is more deserving than a single mother that got pregnant outside of marriage because one is seen as some sort of moral failing.) to overtake what a quest for freedom and liberation for all looks like, as the original teachings of Jesus suggests? Modern Western Christianity allows for the hurt and abuse of children, and the suffering of those whom we, as imperfect humans, deem to be unworthy - and yet, so many followers just let it be. I get it though. I get that this faith system allowed for us, as Black folks in the United States, to survive the shit that we were and ARE constantly and consistently exposed to. I truly understand that. But surviving is NOT thriving. My fear is that we’ve been conditioned, in a Pavlovian sense, to accept this faith system as a way to keep us content while we’re ever divorced from the celebration and life affirming acts that true salvation brings. If we, as Black folks in America, are experiencing true salvation, there is no way that this system and vestiges of oppression and human torture would still be standing - we’d have flipped the tables like Jesus.

I don’t have something pretty and fully fleshed out to end on. My hope is that we all, and Black Americans most especially, continue to think about how and why we practice Christianity in the ways we do. How and why we practice all of our faith systems in the ways we do. If we aren’t seeking absolute freedom and liberation for all of us, I’m not sure we’re doing much more than praying to the same god as those who chose (and continue) to see us as little more than property and animals. How are we to get free praying to that god, in the ways in which those who enslaved us told us to pray? Especially when our prayers are often in contrast. When I look around, I can’t help but wonder who’s prayers are actually getting answered?

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