You created us to be free
Overtime we misinterpreted your decree
The natural response was consequence
Scattered across your land without defense
The true origin for lack of sense
Strangers to ourselves and as we seek
You remain elusive, yet your voice is never meek
Men behind pulpits tell stories of your goodness
All the while disengaging from your ‘hoodness’
The desire for your people to cohabitate culturally
Now a misdemeanor in the eyes of self proclaimed royalty
Black subjects as serfs, their land is ghetto
The rich get richer and the niggas get a hell no
Thus begins the hustle
A sacred dance performed by those who scramble
Those disenfranchised by this nation’s preamble
Left with no choice but to gamble
The steak, our lives, our kids, our minds
This ‘ish runs deep, how can we defeat without repeat?
Who am I praying to?
This is the question that plagues me when I call on Jesus in my time of need. I call on him frequently, and it confuses the hell out of me.
I am a student of history, and history tells me that life originated on the continent of Africa, home to the Afrikaans, and ancient empires of Kemet and Kush. My spirit longs to connect to these long lost places, with my only recourse to find them as words and images in books. These civilizations had beliefs systems and culture passed down to their inhabitants. Theses gifts have been ripped from their descendants over time, and their origins imitated, mocked, venerated, and degraded.
I know there is a God, but what does he/she/it look like? What does he/she/it stand for?
History tells me God is BLACK. I want to be clear, when I say “black” I mean NOT WHITE. I feel I need to make this distinction because in my opinion, if God is white, then that is just one more ideal and philosophy that has been appropriated by the privileged race.
There are many creation stories in our world that pre date Jesus. In my search for answers I have come across a myriad of similarities in these tales, and it just raises more questions and sustains the argument that nothing in Christianity is original. The biggest OMG moment for me happened when I came across the writings of Gerald Massey, a white man, who illuminated the similarities between Jesus and the Egyptian God Horus.
Both were “born” on December 25th.
Both were born to virgins.
Both raised men from the dead.
Both died by crucifixion.
Both were resurrected three days later.
One who reads this might say, Christianity has Egyptian roots, and thus Christianity has African roots. I am drawn to this truth, and as a result I grow more and more conflicted.
History tells us that religion is a weapon. Disagree?
Examples for your review: the Crusades, Imperialism, Slavery (still happening in various ways), and the list goes on. Movements that used religion to instill fear in people’s hearts and herd them like cattle. I am NOT an ANIMAL. I refuse to be herded by ideology that imprisons and suppresses the history and culture of others.
So what does that leave me with? After years of building faith in the Holy Trinity? After years of laying my burdens on the cross, and trusting blindly?
I am lost.
I don’t know what to believe anymore. So, I stopped going to church. I stopped surrounding myself with those I believe to still be asleep, because I am WIDE awake and I am searching. Perhaps my search will lead me to Jesus, and I hope so…
I know I am blessed. I have seen God move in my life so many times. I hate to feel so confused, but bottom line, the Judeo-Christian faith was forced upon us and used to enslave and colonize. It may also have been stolen from us, revamped, and then fed right back to us as a means of dominance and influence. I refuse to participate in a ritual that perpetuates and profits from the suffering and subjugation of disenfranchised groups of people around the world.
For now I keep searching. I keep praying. I stay awake.
God is real.
My walk with God is between he/she/it and I.