Pastors’ Panel

We asked pastors and practitioners to reflect on the Black church. Here is what they told us.

What is the meaning for you of “Black spirituality” (or “Black religion”) in America?

Denise Pierce: For me, Black spirituality in America provides consciousness. For folks outside of the Black church, the Black church has been and continues to be a voice for the voiceless. This is critically necessary because Black lives are both formed in the image of God and entitled to equal protection under the law. For folks inside, the Black church for centuries has been the primary institution through which Black lives are affirmed and cherished and celebrated. In this sense, it is often a sweet retreat for the certain finding of acceptance, belonging, empowerment, and unconditional love as declared in the Word of God.

Philip Morgan: As a young Black gay man, Black religion has meant both liberation and harm. Remembering the powerful and life-changing worship practices passed down to me have often renewed my purpose as a church musician at times when I seemed most lost. The deeply held belief that lives of faith are the lives most worth living has sustained me personally. This resolve, too, has come with shedding some of the harmful theology that accompanied that deep-seated faith, particularly around human sexuality. The ideas of Black religion, like Black people in America, are not monolithic. They vary as we continue to struggle to dwell in this land. I sometimes wish that more people understood this last point: that Black religion is wide, encompassing a rich diversity of understandings, and means so many different things to so many people that any singular definition says more about the one offering the explanation than perhaps what Black religion is on the whole. Spirituality is a personal thing. My own has, of course, been shaped by my race and how I am able to move through my surroundings with others, but ultimately, the walk we take with God is ours alone.

Jioni Palmer: One of the most formative classes I took during seminary at the Howard University School of Divinity was History of the Black Church, taught by Professor Renee Harrison. It reminded me of why I left the church in my late teens and early 20s and returned in my late 30s. It helped me understand why Islam appealed to me so strongly and why in moments of despair, I look to the sky and call on Chineke. It gave me clarity about my call to ministry. Above all, it has taught me fundamental lessons to about who I am as a husband, father, and person of faith, and it will guide the rest of my life.

One lesson it taught is that Black people loving Black people is a radical act of resistance. Our ancestors were supposed to be beasts of burden stripped of any semblance of humanity. Yet they resisted the designs of their captors in many ways, but chiefly by seeing the humanity in themselves and each other. This self-love and love of each other is the basis of strong couples who begeat strong children, make for strong families and strong communities and are the source for their fight for survival, justice, and freedom. That’s the radical power of love.

What does the church particularly contribute to spiritual dimensions or creativity for equality and/or social justice?

Jioni Palmer: I have said, “If religion ain’t revolution then you are just getting high.” What does that mean? It means that the faith of our ancestors was rooted in the transformation of earthly conditions, not just in the afterlife. They did not just pray for their inheritance when the soul went on to glory, but they worked to see that the promise of God was fulfilled on earth as it is in heaven. That’s what I get from Black theology, which grew out of a desire to make sense from a theological perspective of the struggle for survival, justice, and freedom during the modern Civil Rights Movement. Black theology syncretizes the passion of Martin Luther King Jr., the feeling of Malcolm X, and the expressiveness of James Baldwin, and places the experiences of Black people with the gospel of Jesus. Black theology and the Black church have taught me the power of prayer and worship and the power to act.

While there are many mighty and amazing miracles in the Book of Exodus, the two that stand out to me the most are when Moses became woke and killed the Egyptian and when the Hebrew people decided to pray with their feet.

I believe that people of African descent in America are in another Nadir, and I pray I will live through these weary years. I do know that my children and grandchildren will, so I am committed to doing the work to build their tomorrow today

Denise Pierce: The U.S. Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s was birthed from the womb of the Black Church. Black clergy led parishioners to apply Christian principles of non-violence, which led ultimately to the adoption of federal, state, and local laws that prohibit overt racial segregation and discrimination. Sixty years later, the Black church continues in this vein. On Wednesday, February 1, 2023, the Mississippi Boulevard Christian Church (“The BLVD”) in Memphis, Tennessee, hosted the funeral of a 29-year old Black male, Tyre Nichols. Tyre had died from fatal wounds inflicted by Memphis police officers following a bogus traffic stop three weeks earlier. The BLVD, a historically Black church founded in 1921, hosted not only a Christian funeral celebrating Tyre’s transition from earth to eternal glory, but also a political call to action to end police brutality against Black bodies. Tyre’s funeral program featured U.S. Vice President Kamala Harris, civil rights activist Rev. Al Sharpton, civil rights attorney Benjamin Crump, and clergy from a host of predominately Black denominations. The families of other men and women who have died from police brutality also were present and acknowledged. The overt calls for police reform at Tyre’s funeral again showcased the Black church as a constant societal force contending for the dignity of Black lives in America. This centering of equality and social justice sets the Black church apart, for the glory of God, for betterment of the whole church, and for the betterment of the American society in which it situates its service.

Philip Morgan: One of the greatest contributions Black religion has given movements for equality and social justice has been the musical soundtrack that has accompanied public struggles for equality in our country. The collective songs of these movements have been reframed and repurposed spirituals and gospel songs that have been instrumental in the worshipping lives of African Americans.

How is Black spirituality at work in the art, music, and literature of the church —or in art, music, and literature outside the church? Do you find commonalities or differences?

Denise Pierce: This question recalls a Kendrick Lamar lyric I heard recently while exercising at a local gym. The vibrant rap tune propelling my gym mates and me between reps was “ELEMENT.” by Kendrick Lamar. Lamar is a socially conscious hip hop artist from Compton, California, who won the 2017 Pulitzer Prize for Music for his fourth album, DAMN. In “ELEMENT.,”the vibrant rap tune propelling my gym mates and me, Kendrick laments that both of his grandmothers are dead, resulting in no one left to pray for him. Kendrick infers that his life without grandmothers’ prayers is unrestrained and therefore he is willing to physically battle any person or entity that threatens to take him from his new element of hard-earned financial success, all while making it look sexy. The lyrics in “ELEMENT.” led me to carefully consider more songs on the prize-winning album, almost all of which contain explicit spiritual references. For example, Christian references to “immaculate conception,” “Yeshua,” and “Nazareth” stand out in Kendrick’s hit song “DNA.” Also, in “BLOOD.,” Kendrick centers the entire piece on the curse of disobedience

in Deuteronomy 28. Kendrick’s album is not considered Christian music per se, but DAMN. reveals a gifted lyricist striving to articulate how his Christian faith tugs at his sense of identity as a Black male formed in urban America. In that sense, DAMN. centers Black spirituality into mainstream American culture through a hip-hop lens. It’s subtle, but careful listeners to Kendrick’s album, which is now considered an American classic, will be schooled by Kendrick’s own sense of Black spirituality, to wit, his keen sense of God’s presence and God’s intersection with capitalism, structural racism, individual worth, and personal piety.

Jioni Palmer: I cried the first time I learned that at least one-third of the enslaved Africans transported to North America were children. I was shook. Tears welled in my eyes as I thought of my two sons, ages eight and five at the time, as human cargo consigned to a life of brutal servitude. My mind raced to America’s southern border, and the children separated from their families and consigned to cages in warehouses. I thought of the foster care system. I was shook. As a father. Parent. Man. I thought of the look I often see in the eyes of other little boys when I am out with my sons doing what I never did with my father. It reminded me of when I took my sons to The National Great Blacks in Wax Museum in Baltimore. My youngest son strenuously resisted descending into the hull of a replica of a slave ship but eventually consented with my gentle encouragement. His steps were hesitant and unsteady. When we arrived in the bowels of the vessel, he froze. My eyes were on him. But when I saw what he saw, we were both horrified and distressed, looking at prepubescent wax figures not much older than he was.

Philip Morgan: For me Black spirituality is the work of art and music. Black spirituality’s influences can be felt on the art and literature of Black Americans. One of the great works of the Harlem Renaissance is The Black Christ, a collection of poems by Countee Cullen with illustrations by Charles Cullen that highlight the divide between faith and injustice in America. Other great writers carry their Black spirituality with them into their work as well. The poetry and prose of Langston Hughes are deeply influenced by his experience in the Black church and James Baldwin was a child preacher before turning his attention to writing.

In particular, the sacred music of Black religion continues to live in what is passed on from generation to generation, allowing the Holy Spirit to carry particular nuances that cannot be captured by traditional Western notions of music theory and notation. The songs of our ancestors also recall the spirits of our Black forebears and the religion they forged in this strange and foreign land many years ago. The singing beckons these spirits to remain with us and offer guidance, wisdom, comfort, and assurance.

Rev. Denise Nance Pierce, Esq. (MATS’11) is associate minister at the Greater Mt. Zion Baptist Church in Austin, Texas. She is also a school law attorney and has supported the development of public charter school law and regulation at the state and national levels. She is an Austin Seminary graduate and serves as vice chair of the Seminary's Board of Trustees.

Philip Morgan is director of music at Central Presbyterian Church in Louisville, Kentucky. He has served as a board member and conference director for the Presbyterian Association of Musicians (PAM) and as a worship and music leader for the PC(USA) General Assembly.

Rev. J. Jioni Palmer is the founder and publisher of Thinking Good, a digital media community that helps men be their better selves, and is the men’s minister at Metropolitan AME Church in Washington, DC. A graduate of UCLA and Howard University School of Divinity, Palmer is a former journalist, Congressional staffer, and Obama administration appointee.