The African American Church

When we think in terms of the historical Black Church, it would probably be helpful to begin by reflecting on the words presented by Matthew in 21:12. Here we read about the unusual behavior exhibited by Jesus while visiting the temple area in Jerusalem: “Jesus entered the temple area and drove out all who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the moneychangers and the benches of those selling doves.”

Jesus is confronting people at the heart of their religious practice, their worship. The moneychangers personify the mechanics of the Old Testament sacrificial system. Jesus appears to be attacking the value of a system that makes it easy to pull people away from the heart of worship. The ritual had become more important than the people who sought the presence of God in their lives. So we know that Jesus’ behavior was not so unusual after all, because in a very real sense it illustrates the age long example of protest and that of liberation against Roman Power.

It is my hope that during this month acknowledging African American contributions to this country that we also use it as an opportunity for the African American Church to reassess itself and look again at its history.

The African American Church was born out of demonstrations of protest and liberation and we are indebted to our fore-parents’ determination and the vital role they played in our history by laying the building blocks of our worship. We also thank God for the ancient houses of Egypt and Greece and Rome because they too, contributed an element to the roots of our heritage. Our past is replete with the ideas, ideals, hopes and dreams of a people who loved God.

The Black Church as we know it today, developed from slave religion. Slaves prayed secretly to God as their only Master and asked God to liberate them from their owners. They reinterpreted Christianity by incorporating into their religion certain beliefs and practices that paralleled those of traditional tribal cults. One example of this interaction between African heritage and Christianity may be the ritual of baptism by immersion because of the importance of flowing waters to the river cults of Africa. Long before their contact with Anglo-Saxons, Africans were a strongly religious and deeply spiritual people.

Slaves identified themselves with the Old Testament Hebrew slaves. If God was able to liberate the Hebrew slaves, He was also able to liberate the black slaves. To them, faith was now a belief in and commitment to a God that helped the poor and judged the arrogant and the strong, their owners. Now it was God instead of the plantation owner who was the actual Master of the slaves. Slaves believed that if God sided against the religious and political powers in the Bible, then He could also help them become free. They believed that Jesus was powerful enough to do anything.

Now, there is really no acceptable reason why there should be anything as the African American Church when in the beginning black people and white people worshiped together in the same church. Unfortunately, because of harassment of racism, because of one man’s domination over another, because of the white man’s feelings of superiority, it became necessary as early as 1773 for blacks to break away from their white brothers and sisters and to start the first Black Baptist Church in Silver Bluff, South Carolina.

Initially, the membership of St. George's Methodist Episcopal Church in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania included both blacks and whites. However, the members met that year and decided that thereafter-black members should sit only in the balcony. One Sunday in 1787, Absalom Jones (1746-1818) and Richard Allen (1760-1831), were on their knees in prayer when interrupted by several trustees making cruel racial remarks. Therefore, Richard Allen and Absalom Jones got up off their knees and went out from that place. They left with other blacks whose spirits had been dented and whose pride had been hurt. They went out, like Abraham, not really knowing where they were going but looking for a city that had foundation whose builder and maker is God. Thus, in 1816 the first African Methodist Episcopal Church was founded by Richard Allen and still stands today in Philadelphia and is known at Mother Bethel. This is the oldest parcel of real estate in the United States owned continuously by African Americans.

It was not long after that, in 1792, that the African Episcopal Church of St. Thomas, was founded, born out of the struggle of persons of African decent for personal and religious freedom, justice and self-determination. The church, originally known as the African Church, was an outgrowth of the Free African Society, a benevolent and religious organization established in 1787 by Absalom Jones and others to assist persons recently freed from the bonds of slavery.

Shortly thereafter in 1796, Blacks were not welcomed at the St. John Street Methodist Church in New York City. Protesting discrimination, Blacks broke away and founded the first African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church.

The struggle for liberation is the core and essence of Black history. Preachers like Nat Turner, rebelled against the status quo even before the yoke of slavery had been lifted.

All one has to do is listen to the Negro Spirituals or slave songs, that expressed the despair and hope of a people who refused to give up in the midst of horrendous life circumstances for they believed God was at the helm of history. In them, you will detect the same hint of protest and liberation:

On Jordan’s stormy banks I stand,
And cast a wishful eye
To Canaan’s fair and happy land,
Where my possessions lie.

All o'er those wide extended plains
Shines one eternal day;
There God the Son forever reigns,
And scatters night away.

Or maybe they would sing:

I am a poor pilgrim of sorrow.
I’m tossed in this wide world alone.
I’ve heard of a city called Heaven;
I’ve started to make it my home.

Sometimes I'm almost driven,
Til I know not where to roam
I've heard of a city called Heaven,
I've started to make it my home.

The liberation theme can easily be detected in that great spiritual called “Heaven.”

I’ve got shoes, you’ve got shoes
And when I get to heaven, I’m gonna put on my shoes
And shout all over God’s heaven.

Perhaps one of the greatest Black protest themes comes from another great spiritual, “Go Down Moses”

Go down, Moses,
Way down in Egypt's Land.
Tell ol' Pharoah,
Let my people go.

No more shall they in bondage toil,
Let my people go,
Let them come out with Egypt's spoil,
Let my people go.

Or maybe they would sing “Didn't My Lord Deliver Daniel?”

Didn't my Lord deliver Daniel?
Deliver Daniel, deliver Daniel?
Didn't my Lord deliver Daniel?
And why not every man?

The moon runs down in a purple stream
And the sun refused to shine,
And every star did disappear,
Yes, freedom shall be mine.

Yes, our church is rich in the sense of demonstrations and protests. It is these protests that somehow symbolize what Jesus is saying as He overturns the tables and chairs in the temple. It was in protest against extortion and graft. It was in protest against man’s disregard for God’s own house. It was in protest against those who desecrated, manipulated, and distorted religion and the church.

We as an African American people have transcended the grip of ignorance and extended our talents into medicine, engineering, aeronautics, politics, education, legal system and other arenas. But our problem today has to do with our arrogance. God has blessed us. He has put us in the middle of the man’s land, and somehow we have persevered. But, somewhere along the line, we have forgotten the meaning of the Church.

During the midnight hours of slavery, the preacher was the only public orator permitted on the plantations and Scripture was the only book he was allowed to read. Yet listening to the stories of the Hebrew servitude and eventual Exodus, slaves were able to identify with the experience and he made the message of God’s word the foundation of his hope. The Church became the temple of hopes and dreams. The African American Church was and is a place of hope for black people.

Yet, even though God has blessed us beyond our fore-parents’ dreams, we have forgotten the Church. What does Christian service and working the vineyard and come, follow me, mean to us when we have forgotten the meaning of God’s house of worship.

Sometimes, I think about how our fore-parents had to bear the difficult, life threatening and humiliating burden of slavery. I think about how they had to work, and sweat under the burning sun so that I could enjoy some sense of human pride and dignity. Our black mothers and fathers had a vision for their future generation children.

I cannot look at any of my degrees without thinking of my ancestors who did not have the advantage of an education. They did not, like James Brown, associate, being black with being proud. But if they could just get together under the scorching sun in the cotton fields, they would strengthen each other in song and somehow instill a sense of Christian destiny in their children. Somehow, even in the midst of slavery, they were able to see the remnants of eternity. With the idea of hope, they were able to identify themselves with the God of the ages and they did all that they could do, they put their feelings, desires, and experiences into poetic verse:

Roll Jordan
Roll, roll Jordan, roll
I want to go to heaven when I die
To hear Jordan roll (roll, roll, roll)
Jordan roll, roll Jordan, roll
I want to go to heaven when I die
To hear Jordan roll

Now brother, you ought to been there
Yes, my Lord
A sitting in the kingdom
Just to hear Jordan
Roll Jordan
Roll, roll Jordan, roll
I want to go to heaven when I die
To hear Jordan roll (roll, roll, roll)

Jordan roll, roll Jordan, roll
I want to go to heaven when I die
To hear Jordan roll.

The significance of our fore-parents getting together to worship lay in the fact that they had to do it in secret. The task masters did not want too many slaves congregating together for fear of rebellion. If they were found together they would be killed or severely punished. But our ancestors were willing even to risk their lives to worship and serve their God in their own way. They would steal away in the wee hours of the night when their masters were asleep and have church. This is where we get that great spiritual “Steal Away.”

Steal away, steal away,
steal away to Jesus
Steal away, steal away home
I ain't got long to stay here

My Lord, He calls me
He calls me by the thunder
The trumpet sounds within-a my soul
I ain't got long to stay here

But we as a black people have forgotten our spiritual roots. We have forgotten when we could not worship on the white man’s praying grounds. Yet, it was not that long ago.

There is a God and our fore-parents understood who He was, and they were able to make the right connection. They leaned upon Him and depended upon Him and because of their faith and determination and labor, we are free to worship as we please today.

I think we need to go back. We need to go back to the old landmark. We need to go back to the old praying grounds in the fields of the south, get down on bended knees and stay there until we realize who God is and what His Church means.

Our black mothers and fathers did their part, but there is still work to be done and a responsibility to be discharged.