"Southern trees bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root"
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This is a direct and brutal metaphor: Black bodies hanging from trees, normalized and embedded in Southern soil and culture.
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The phrase "blood at the root" suggests this is not incidental—it’s foundational.
"Black bodies swinging in the Southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees"
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a public, racial terror act, meant to “send a message.”
"Pastoral scene of the gallant South
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth"
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This juxtaposition captures the horror: the idyllic, church-going, whitewashed image of the South—set beside grotesque violence.
"Scent of magnolia, sweet and fresh
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh"
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The American South’s image of grace, charm, and religious devotion is interrupted by the brutal truth of racial terror. This line speaks to the rot beneath the beauty.
"Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck
For the sun to rot, for a tree to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop."
- Jesus was deeply literate in Jewish law and scripture (see Luke 4:16–21, where he reads and teaches in the synagogue).
- He also learned and practiced manual labor as a carpenter or builder (tekton in Greek—more like a stonemason or construction worker).
- He embodied both wisdom and work, spiritual insight and working-class identity.
- His disciples came from fishing boats and tax booths, not ivory towers.
- He was a political refugee (Matthew 2:13–15 “...an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. ‘Get up,’ he said, ‘take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt.’” —his family fled a violent regime.
- He was not popular or beautiful. Jesus had no outward appeal, and he was misunderstood and mistreated. (Isaiah 53:2–3 “He had no beauty... He was despised and rejected... a man of suffering.”)
- “You cannot serve both God and money.” Jesus critiqued wealth hoarding and never espoused capitalism as we know it.
- He was a social justice warrior, a disrupter, and his politics most closely resemble socialism.
- Luke 4:18–19 (Jesus’ first public statement) “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor... to set the oppressed free.”
- Acts 2:44–45 “All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need.”
- Early Christians practiced economic redistribution—voluntarily, but radically. Matthew 21:12–13 Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were buying and selling there... ‘You have made it a den of robbers.’
- He disrupted corrupt systems—with force. There is nothing Jesus hated more than prideful judgement by authorities who oppress those with less power.
John 1:10–11
“He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him.”
Even “his own” did not accept him. Jesus would be misidentified and rejected today too.
If Jesus showed up today—brown-skinned, Middle Eastern, refugee-born, radical truth-teller—would we recognize him? Or would we clutch our pearls, call ICE, and quote Romans 13?
Historical Roots:
- American evangelicalism traces back to the Great Awakenings (1730s–1800s), it included emotional preaching and revivalism. These movements appealed to both white and Black populations, but quickly diverged in racial inclusivity.
- George Whitefield (1714–1770): Evangelical Revivalist, Great Awakening Leader
- Relationship to Race: Advocated for the legalization of slavery in Georgia. Owned enslaved people and used their labor to fund his orphanage.
- Response to Injustice: Justified slavery using biblical language. Never challenged racial terror.
- Jonathan Edwards (1703–1758): Theologian of Revival and Calvinism
- Relationship to Race: Owned enslaved people and defended slavery.
- Response to Injustice: Silent on racial injustice, deeply embedded in the institution of slavery.
- Charles Finney (1792–1875): Second Great Awakening Leader
- Relationship to Race: Abolitionist sympathies; supported integrated churches in some areas.
- Response to Injustice: More progressive than his peers; condemned slavery as sin.
- Dwight L. Moody (1837–1899): 19th-century Evangelical Icon
- Relationship to Race: Ambivalent. Opposed slavery but avoided direct engagement with civil rights.
- Response to Injustice: Focused on personal salvation over systemic change. Avoided political “entanglement.”
- Billy Sunday (1862–1935): Revivalist during early 20th century
- Relationship to Race: Preached to segregated audiences. Ignored systemic racism.
- Response to Injustice: Emphasized individual sin. No public condemnation of lynching or segregation.
- Billy Graham (1918–2018): Most Influential 20th-Century Evangelist
- Relationship to Race: Removed ropes separating Black and white audiences at his crusades. Publicly opposed segregation—but avoided involvement in the Civil Rights Movement.
- Response to Injustice: Called racism a sin, but urged Martin Luther King Jr. to "slow down" the movement.
- Jerry Falwell Sr. (1933–2007): Founder of the Moral Majority
- Relationship to Race: Openly opposed the Civil Rights Movement. Founded a Christian school to avoid desegregation.
- Response to Injustice: Cast civil rights activism as rebellion against God-ordained order.
- As slavery became a wedge issue, white evangelicals split from Black Christians.
- For example, in 1845, the Southern Baptist Convention formed explicitly to defend slaveholders' "right" to be missionaries. Read that again.
- Southern white evangelicals used the Bible to justify slavery, arguing that it was divinely sanctioned.
- Enslaved Africans were taught distorted versions of Christianity to promote obedience. The Slave Bible had references to freedom removed.
- Post-Civil War, many Black Christians formed separate denominations like the African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church because of persistent racism.
- After the Civil War, white evangelicals in the South supported Jim Crow laws and segregation, often citing “biblical order” or “natural hierarchies.”
- Many white churches excluded Black members and formed segregated congregations. Meanwhile, Black Christians formed their own denominations out of necessity and resistance (e.g., AME, CME, and Black Baptist churches).
- Evangelical institutions were often complicit in slavery, segregation, and Jim Crow laws, either actively or through silence.
- James Cone’s The Cross and the Lynching Tree The Cross and the Lynching Tree Are Theologically Linked
- Cone argues that the crucifixion of Jesus and the lynching of Black Americans both represent state-sanctioned terror against the marginalized.
- Yet most white theologians have historically refused to make that connection, divorcing faith from lived Black suffering.
- White Christianity Has Historically Sided with Power
- Cone laments that mainstream American Christianity—especially white evangelicalism—has prioritized personal salvation over justice and liberation.
- He challenges the silence of theologians in the face of lynching, asking: “Where were the voices of the Church when Black bodies hung from trees?”
- While white evangelicals mostly aligned with the status quo, Black churches embodied the hope of the cross amid the terror of the lynching tree—clinging to Christ while rejected by His white followers.
- Suburbanization and “white flight” in the mid-20th century further entrenched racial divides in congregations.
- Many churches resisted integration during the Civil Rights era.
- During the Civil Rights Movement, most white Southern evangelicals either opposed civil rights activists or remained silent.
- Leaders like Jerry Falwell Sr. (founder of the Moral Majority) spoke out against MLK Jr. and supported segregation.
- Falwell once called integration “civil disobedience” against God.
- Evangelicals like Billy Graham walked a fine line—condemning racism but often distancing themselves from the civil rights movement for fear of alienating white supporters.
- The rise of the Religious Right in the 1970s–80s was not initially about abortion—it grew, in part, from a backlash against the government removing tax-exempt status from segregated Christian schools. Read that again.
- After the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision, white evangelicals in the South opened “private Christian schools” to avoid integration.
- These were often segregation academies wrapped in religious language—an early blending of faith and racialized policy.
- Many white evangelical leaders, especially in the South, have long preached a theology of personal sin and salvation, while ignoring systemic sin, such as racism.
- Evangelicals increasingly aligned with conservative politics, which often championed “colorblindness” over addressing systemic injustice.
- This fosters a “colorblind” theology that dismisses calls for justice as “political” or “divisive.”
- This alignment cemented evangelicalism as largely white and politically conservative.
- Pastors who preach about racism often face backlash or lose support, even today.
- Some denominations, like the SBC, have issued formal apologies for their racist past—but critics argue these apologies often lack structural or cultural follow-through.
- When leaders like Beth Moore and Russell Moore (both white evangelicals) began speaking against racism and Trumpism, they faced intense backlash from within their own base—proving how entrenched racial identity is within some evangelical subcultures.
From a communication studies lens, Southern evangelicalism often reflects a closed rhetorical system where dissent is framed as betrayal, and narratives of supremacy are maintained through selective storytelling, silence, and coded language.
Psychologically, this system enables moral disengagement, where individuals can see themselves as virtuous while upholding or ignoring oppressive structures. It also reinforces in-group favoritism, fear-based messaging, and authority obedience—all of which are well-documented features in authoritarian and supremacist communication models.
Like all good scholars, we ask a question before we begin researching:
Is There Underlying Racism in the Prosperity Gospel and Other Tenets of Evangelicalism?
Prosperity Gospel and Structural Racism:
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The prosperity gospel teaches that faith and donations will lead to material blessings. On the surface, this seems race-neutral.
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But it ignores structural inequalities, implying that those who are poor (disproportionately Black, Indigenous, and people of color) simply don’t have enough faith, rather than acknowledging systemic injustice.
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In this sense, the prosperity gospel can reinforce racial stereotypes of laziness or moral failure, cloaked in spiritual language.
Colorblind Theology:
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Many white evangelical traditions preach a "Jesus makes us all the same" doctrine that discourages discussion of race, inequality, or reparations.
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This “colorblindness” often silences real pain and allows dominant cultural norms (i.e., whiteness) to go unchecked.
Individualism vs. Structural Sin:
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Evangelicalism often emphasizes personal sin and personal salvation, rather than communal or systemic sin.
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This makes it difficult for white evangelicals to engage in racial justice work, because they don’t see racism as a system—only as individual prejudice.
From a communication studies and psychological perspective, the evangelical movement functions within a closed system of meaning-making—one that centers white experiences as normative and often frames power and privilege as divine reward. It resists narratives that challenge the status quo, even when those challenges come from within (e.g., Black evangelicals or scholars).
Bible Verses Affirming Racial Equality & Human Dignity
- Genesis 1:27 - “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” Every person, regardless of race or ethnicity, bears the image of God. There is no racial hierarchy in divine creation.
- Acts 17:26 - “From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands.” A clear rejection of the idea that any one group is superior—all peoples share a common origin and divine intention.
- Galatians 3:28 - “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” This verse was radical in its time, breaking the walls of ethnicity, status, and gender. A direct theological stand against systems of superiority.
- Ephesians 2:14 - “For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility.” Written about Jew-Gentile division, but resonates deeply with racial injustice—Christ tears down man-made walls.
- Micah 6:8 - “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” Justice isn’t optional—it’s required. Mercy isn’t a side note—it’s central.
- Isaiah 1:17 - “Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.” This is a blueprint for what faithfulness looks like—not just belief, but advocacy.
- Proverbs 31:8–9 - “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves... defend the rights of the poor and needy.” God's people are called not only to notice injustice, but to speak against it and act.
- Isaiah 58:6 - “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice... to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?” God redefines what religious devotion should look like: justice for the oppressed, not empty ritual.
For contrast, Jesus never speaks this way to:
Women caught in shameful situations (John 8:10–11)
People with mental or physical illness (Mark 5)
Children (Mark 10:13–16)
Victims of social exclusion (Luke 19:1–10)
- “They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them.” Matthew 23:4. This directly addresses spiritual abuse: demanding obedience while refusing compassion.
- “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices… But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter…” Matthew 23:23–24. Jesus condemns religious performance without justice. He names justice as a central part of godly faith—not a political extra.
- “Woe to you… You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.” Matthew 23:27–28. Appearance, image, and religiosity mean nothing to God if they cover internal corruption or hidden cruelty.
- “Woe to you experts in the law, because you have taken away the key to knowledge. You yourselves have not entered, and you have hindered those who were entering.” Luke 11:52. This is spiritual gatekeeping: blocking others from healing or growth because it threatens the leader’s control or image.
Engage in a quick thought experiment with me. I am going to tell you a story about Emitt:
He had a lazy grin, a soft stammer, and a sense of humor that got ahead of his judgment. He liked jokes. He liked sweets. He whistled sometimes without thinking. His mother used to tell him he was too charming for his own good, and too bold for a world that didn’t like boys who walked like they belonged.
That summer, he left the city to visit relatives in the country—a world of long porches, heat-slicked afternoons, and fields that bowed under the weight of cotton. He had never seen anything like it. He missed home, but he loved the newness, the possibility.
One day, he walked into a store—nothing grand, just a dim-lit country store where you could buy soda pop and bubble gum and notions. A woman was there. Married. Older. Behind the counter. He smiled. Maybe he said something. Maybe he didn’t. The details, like truth, blurred fast.
What came next moved faster than reason. A few nights later, he was taken from his bed by men who would not give their names. They told his family he’d be returned.
He wasn’t.
They beat him until the bones in his face broke.
They shot him.
They tied a heavy weight around his neck. Then they dropped his body into the river like a secret.
Days passed before the river gave him back. What was found didn’t look like a boy. His eye was gone. His skin unrecognizable. His face—grotesquely altered. But his mother knew him.
She looked straight into horror and said, “Yes. That is my son.”
She made the world look, too. She left the casket open so no one could pretend not to see what had been done. So no one could claim not to know how far people will go to protect their lies, their land, their image of themselves.
Some said he shouldn't have smiled.
Some said she should have stayed quiet.
A jury of peers acquitted the men in under an hour.
They later told the world exactly what they’d done. Smiled when they did it.
What color was the boy when you first imagined him?
What would justice have looked like?
“The Boy Who Whistled” – A Reflection on Emmett Till
He was just a boy.
Fourteen years old, with a round face full of mischief and curiosity, a stutter he covered with a whistle, and a smile that lit up rooms. Born and raised in Chicago, he had never been to the deep South before—not like this. His mother, Mamie, sent him to visit family in Mississippi, like many Black children who were sent “down home” for the summer to connect with their roots.
She packed his clothes with care. She gave him the talk—that talk. The one every Black parent gave their child: “Be careful down there. Speak respectfully. Don’t make sudden movements. Don’t talk back to white folks.” She had hoped it would be enough. It wasn’t.
One afternoon in Money, Mississippi, Emmett went with his cousins to the local store. The story that followed became twisted by myth, defense, and deflection. Some say he whistled. Others say he spoke too boldly. Or simply looked a white woman in the eye. But what is clear is this: Emmett broke no law. He harmed no one. He was just a boy being a boy.
And for that, two white men kidnapped him in the dark of night. They beat him beyond recognition. Crushed his skull. Shot him. Tied a heavy fan around his neck with barbed wire. And threw his body in the Tallahatchie River like a piece of garbage.
When they pulled his body from the water, it was unrecognizable—but Mamie knew.
And in an act of courage that cracked the conscience of a nation, Mamie Till-Mobley insisted on an open-casket funeral. “Let the world see what they did to my boy,” she said. And they did.
Jet Magazine published the photo. Black newspapers carried it. And something shifted. Because for many Americans, especially in the North, this was the first time they had seen the brutal, unfiltered truth of racism in the South—not as a theory, but as a battered child.
The two men who murdered Emmett Till were acquitted by an all-white jury in less than an hour. They confessed in a magazine later, smug and unrepentant. There was no justice. No prison. No apology.
But there was a spark.
Rosa Parks would later say she was thinking of Emmett Till when she refused to give up her seat on that Montgomery bus.
His death became one of the catalysts for the Civil Rights Movement.
Emmett’s story is not just a historical event. It is a mirror. It asks us as followers of Christ:
- Who do we protect?
- Whose lives do we value?
- What happens when a child’s joy, voice, and face are seen as threats simply because of the skin they’re wrapped in?
He was not a symbol. He was a son. A cousin. A class clown. A beloved only child who never made it home.
We speak Emmett Till’s name not to reopen wounds, but to refuse silence. We remember him not just for what was done to him, but for the bravery of a mother who chose truth over comfort, and the movement born from her tears. We say his name in churches, classrooms, and courtrooms—not because the story is easy, but because it is sacred.
Emmett Till, like Jesus before him, was lynched. But he was also loved.
And we are the generation who must ensure that the world never forgets that love, even when justice fails us.
Why couldn't these men see the Jesus inside of Emmitt?
Roy Bryant and J.W. Milam, the two men who kidnapped and murdered Emmett Till, identified as Christians and were culturally considered part of the Christian community in Mississippi at the time.
They were white Southern men, likely Protestant, immersed in a culture where church attendance was expected, Christianity was deeply tied to white identity, and racism was not seen as incompatible with faith.
In The Cross and the Lynching Tree, Cone makes this exact connection:
“White Christians... could not recognize the crucified Christ in the lynched Black bodies... because that would mean recognizing the evil of their own power to crucify.”
Bryant and Milam represent that legacy: men who saw no conflict between their Christian identity and their brutality, because their religion had been gutted of justice and truth. That’s what makes Emmett’s death not just a tragedy, but a theological crisis—one that still calls the Church to account.
Here’s what makes that even more haunting:
Christian Ritual, Racial Terror
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In many Southern communities—including those in Mississippi—lynchings often occurred on Sunday afternoons, after church services.
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Spectators would attend as if it were entertainment. Some were deacons, Sunday school teachers, and pastors.
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Religious language and white supremacy were deeply entwined, portraying whiteness as divinely ordained and Blackness as morally suspect.
Milam and Bryant’s Self-Justification
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When Milam and Bryant confessed to the murder in Look magazine (1956), they showed no remorse and felt entirely justified.
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They claimed they had to kill Emmett to "teach him a lesson"—a moral argument, twisted and rooted in racial hierarchy.
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They were not social outliers. Their behavior was normalized and defended by many in their community, which considered itself Christian and civilized.
Key Themes from James Cone’s The Cross and the Lynching Tree
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The Cross and the Lynching Tree Are Theologically Linked
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Cone argues that the crucifixion of Jesus and the lynching of Black Americans both represent state-sanctioned terror against the marginalized.
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Yet most white theologians have historically refused to make that connection, divorcing faith from lived Black suffering.
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White Christianity Has Historically Sided with Power
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Cone laments that mainstream American Christianity—especially white evangelicalism—has prioritized personal salvation over justice and liberation.
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He challenges the silence of theologians in the face of lynching, asking: “Where were the voices of the Church when Black bodies hung from trees?”
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The Black Church as a Site of Resistance
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While white evangelicals mostly aligned with the status quo, Black churches embodied the hope of the cross amid the terror of the lynching tree—clinging to Christ while rejected by His white followers.
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By prioritizing personal salvation, over a people's salvation we have unintentionally ignored the sin of systemic racism. Evangelicalism has glossed over the sin of racism for too long. It is time to confront our past, and DO BETTER.
By prioritizing Obedience to authority, we have reinforced white supremacy.
By prioritizing judging individual's moral purity over public justice, we have missed the entire story of the cross and its power to change lives.
“The cross of Jesus and the lynching tree need each other: the lynching tree reveals the meaning of the cross for America; the cross places lynching in the context of divine justice.”
Discussion Questions:
What was your emotional reaction when you realized Emmett Till’s killers were Christians? Why do you think that matters?
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How might a version of Christianity that emphasizes personal morality—but avoids confronting injustice—have contributed to this event?
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What do you think it means to “sanitize the cross”? Have you seen that happen in your own faith tradition or upbringing?
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Where do you think Jesus would have been in this story? With whom would he have stood? How do you know?
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If you were raised to believe Christianity and justice weren’t connected, how does this story challenge that idea?
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What does it mean to “take up your cross” in a society where injustice still happens? What would that cost us?
💬 Optional Wrap-Up Reflection:
“If Jesus was lynched by the state and religious leaders, what does that mean for those who claim to follow him now?”
Some Evangelicals Have Repented and Re-examined
A growing number of Black evangelicals, younger white evangelicals, and multiethnic church leaders have called the church to account.
Examples:
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Jemar Tisby, historian and author of The Color of Compromise, outlines how the church has been complicit in racial injustice and calls for tangible repentance and repair.
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Lecrae, a Christian hip-hop artist, spoke out publicly about how white evangelicals used him but didn’t stand with him after the Ferguson uprising.
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Churches and institutions like Be the Bridge, The Witness: A Black Christian Collective, and Reclaiming Jesus offer resources for racial reconciliation and justice grounded in theology.
These groups name Emmett Till and similar cases as evidence of ongoing generational trauma and challenge the church to move beyond symbolic gestures.
2. Some Evangelicals Are Still Silent or Defensive
Many white evangelical churches:
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Avoid discussing race and systemic injustice.
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Preach “colorblindness” or a gospel divorced from social reality.
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Emphasize personal salvation while ignoring societal repentance.
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Frame justice work as “divisive,” “political,” or “woke.”
This silence is especially painful for Black Christians, as it echoes the same complicity and minimization that allowed Emmett Till’s murderers to walk free.
Example:
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In 2020, after George Floyd’s murder, many evangelical leaders issued statements without repentance, avoided naming racism as sin, or later backtracked when congregants pushed back.
Leaders like Franklin Graham and parts of SBC leadership responded to the George Floyd moment with strategic, ideological positioning rather than moral clarity. They often framed the events as cultural tensions or policy issues, and notably avoided terminology like “racism as sin” or language of repentance.
In contrast, denominations like the Evangelical Covenant Church, Christian Reformed Church, and United Methodists directly named racism as sin, acknowledged complicity, and called their members to repentance and justice rooted in the Gospel.
3. Theological Divides Are Emerging
Many modern responses hinge on how one interprets the Gospel:
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Liberation theology and Black theology (e.g., James Cone, Kelly Brown Douglas) see the Gospel as intimately concerned with the oppressed, including Emmett Till.
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Some evangelicals argue that Jesus' mission was only spiritual, which leaves no room for confronting racial terror like lynching.
“If your Gospel isn’t good news for Emmett Till, it’s not good news at all.” — Modern Black evangelical critique
4. Emmett Till as Sacred Memory
Till’s story is increasingly being treated as sacred ground by justice-minded evangelicals. His name appears in:
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Sermons about public witness and racial sin
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Art and poetry that connect his death to the crucifixion
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Pilgrimages to his memorial and gravesite as acts of spiritual reckoning
Some churches host “Truth and Reconciliation” gatherings where Till’s story is used to teach confession and lament as essential Christian practices.
5. Institutional Change Remains Limited
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Many white evangelical institutions still:
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Lack diversity in leadership.
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Avoid race-related curricula.
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Punish or silence staff who speak out on racial justice.
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While some colleges and seminaries (e.g., Wheaton College, Fuller Seminary) have begun to engage more deeply, it is often under pressure from alumni or external critique.
✨ A Hopeful Note
There is a growing remnant of Christians—especially younger believers—who are reclaiming the cross as a protest against lynching, drawing direct lines between Jesus and Emmett Till.
They are saying:
“Jesus was lynched by the state and religious leaders. If we can’t stand with Emmett Till, we are not following Christ.”
There are incredible theologians and churches—particularly in Black, Latinx, and Indigenous communities—who are reclaiming and reshaping the faith in liberative, justice-centered ways. But mainstream American evangelicalism still struggles with a racialized legacy it has yet to reckon with.
Here’s a list of current thought leaders, broken into a few categories:
- Dr. Willie James Jennings
Author of “The Christian Imagination: Theology and the Origins of Race.”
Jennings unpacks how colonialism and racism are embedded in Western Christianity. He’s one of the most important theological voices of our time. - Dr. Jemar Tisby
Author of “The Color of Compromise” and “How to Fight Racism.”
Historian of American Christianity who traces the church’s complicity in racism. Tisby also offers practical frameworks for anti-racist action within churches. - Dr. Christina Edmondson
Scholar in psychology and theology, co-host of the Truth's Table podcast. She speaks powerfully on whiteness, justice, and formation. - Dr. Robert P. Jones
Author of “White Too Long: The Legacy of White Supremacy in American Christianity.”
Founder of PRRI, a public religion research institute. He uses data to trace racism in American religious life. - Lecrae
Grammy-winning Christian rapper and entrepreneur who openly critiques the racism in white evangelical spaces while still holding onto faith. His journey reflects what many young Christians of color experience. - Austin Channing Brown
Author of “I’m Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness.”
She writes about navigating Christian institutions as a Black woman and challenges the idol of white niceness in churches. - Latasha Morrison Founder of Be the Bridge, a racial reconciliation organization. Her book by the same name equips Christian communities for racial justice work with humility and action.
- Rev. Dr. Yolanda Pierce
Dean of Vanderbilt Divinity School (formerly of Howard). Her work centers Black faith traditions and the womanist theological lens. - Cole Arthur Riley
Author of “This Here Flesh” and creator of Black Liturgies.
Her work is lyrical, embodied, and deeply rooted in Black spirituality. She helps many people reclaim a contemplative Christian practice beyond white evangelicalism. - Kaitlyn B. Curtice
A Potawatomi Christian writer who explores decolonization, spirituality, and Indigenous identity.
Author of “Native” and “Living Resistance.” Truth's Table (Christina Edmondson, Michelle Higgins, Ekemini Uwan)
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Pass the Mic (by The Witness: A Black Christian Collective, co-founded by Jemar Tisby)
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Black Liturgies (Cole Arthur Riley)
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The Holy Post Podcast (Phil Vischer & Christian thinkers often discussing race and faith dynamics)
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Reclaiming My Theology (Brandi Miller—deconstructs evangelical theology through anti-oppression frameworks)
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