I came across a post on Threads today I found very interesting. Initially, I was going to reply in a quote right there on the platform, but I realized that I needed more space than Threads provides to really express myself. So here we are.

Before we dive in to what I have to say, let me share the post with you so that you have the full context:

This is a conversation that is had constantly online. Especially in deconstruction spaces (meaning spaces for people who are actively unpacking the harmful theology of western evangelicalism). I know this because I spent years deconstructing myself. And a lot of that work was done right here on the internet, in front of everyone. And yes, that was as delightful as it sounds. lol

Anyway, like I said, this is a conversation that is had often. And usually, it is coming from those who have deconstructed to the point of leaving Christianity entirely, and they are looking back and challenging other Black people to do the same.

And I'd like to talk about it.

Their [the people who often initiate this conversation] position is that Christianity is something that was pushed on Black people by their enslavers and that, as a colonial religion, it has been used to oppress and destroy cultures all around the world.

There are a few ways that people typically respond to this suggestion.

They might point out that Black people had access to Christianity long before Europe did. They might also point out the role that the Black church has played in modern civil rights movements. Or even the history of Christianity throughout Africa (which is long and complicated, though very present). To which one might argue that the way Christianity reached Africa was colonization regardless of when it arrived, and that the same faith that sheltered the Black community as we fought for our liberation also emboldened the KKK to fight to strip it away.

And you know what... they are all right.

Furthermore, this is not a conversation that is specific to Christianity. Many systems of faith have been used to both liberate and oppress; inspire and diminish. Religion--faith---is messy and confusing to navigate, both from the position of depending on it and from the position of shaking free of it.

There is no clear-cut way to feel about faith in general, including (perhaps especially) a faith as long and as complicated as Christianity. Like all religions, in the hands of the powerful, it is often a tool of oppression, and in the hands of the marginalized, it can be a tool of liberation.

None of this is easy to navigate. Especially for Black people, who have historically existed on both sides of this equation. Christianity has been a whip in the hands of our oppressors just as surely as it has been a shelter in the hands of our ancestors. For the poor white Christian, the church can be their liberation even as it fuels their hatred. And the Black pulpit, while a historic microphone for the marginalized, has also been a weapon used to abuse and ostracize Queer Black Christians for almost as long as it has been fighting for the rest of us.

So what is the answer to the OP's question?

Who the fuck knows.

But here is what I think...

I don't believe that there should ever be an expectation for those who have suffered under the thumb of a western weaponized Christianity to approach their oppressor's faith with understanding, even if it is shared by other marginalized people. In fact, I think it is morally wrong to demand that the many people who have suffered under the Church's dogma turn around and respect the Church, in any way. Western Christianity has been a dangerous weapon that has been used to murder, rape, steal, enslave and strip people of their humanity for centuries. And that is something that has to be addressed and dealt with honestly and harshly.

I believe that the western church has a reckoning coming and that reckoning is deserved and important.

Western Christianity was at the center of global colonization and the many genocides that were committed in order to steal land and erase cultures. There are people groups all around the globe who have been displaced, had their cultures near erased, and have lost freedoms and autonomy, all in the name of this colonized version of Christianity. And today, we are watching as that same tool is being used to inspire new wars, new oppressive regimes, and a plan to throw the world into even more turmoil and chaos.

That is something we should resist loudly, angrily, and without mercy.

And, if I am being honest, I believe that deconstruction is a central part of achieving that resistance.

I am not suggesting that it is wrong to be a Christian. I am not suggesting that you should throw away your faith, or even affirming the idea that it is a white man's faith--because frankly, it was born in resistance to everything the white man stands for. What I am suggesting is that Christianity, particularly in and through the west, has been colonized and converted into fuel for white supremacist ideologies and the only way to resist those ideologies is to confront the ways that faith, as a concept, has been infected and weaponized against the marginalized.

For many of us, our entire understanding of our ancestral culture and spiritual practices have been erased by white supremacy. Regardless of what faith we ascribe to, that is something we should be actively resisting and working to restore.

Why Am I bringing all of this up?

Because this is a conversation I have been having with myself and with my own community for a decade. I have been actively working to deconstruct the parts of my own faith and history that have been distorted by white supremacy and colonialism so that I can embrace the ancestral culture and identity that my ancestors were stripped of.

For me, that has largely looked like unpacking harmful dogma so that I can be the safest and most compassionate version of myself. It has meant challenging the things I was raised to believe about humanity, God, the future, the past...myself. It has meant learning to love the body I am in and learning to see other people's autonomy and identity as something far more sacred than any opinion I am supposed to hold firm to. It has meant abandoning and aggressively resisting even the suggestion of homophobia and misogyny and racism and xenophobia, etc. For me, deconstruction has meant decolonizing spirituality, faith and identity and reimagining what it can look like to believe and experience faith.

And that is a large part of why I have been so passionate about the next project coming out of Left Unread. Because this is exactly the conversation that Devil of the Deep is trying to have.

Yes, it is a fantasy about a Mermaid, a pirate and a navy captain fighting against an underwater cult in order to save the world from utter destruction. But underneath all of that, there is a conversation about the way that religious dogma can be a tool in the hands of the privileged to steal and erase the culture, identity and ancestral inheritance of marginalized people in order to spread an agenda that unites people under their oppressive thumb.

And more importantly... it does that while elevating Black voices.

When I first read this book, I felt seen in a way that I cannot really explain to you. For years, as I talked about the need to challenge our own beliefs and to question every aspect of our faith, I was surrounded by white voices who didn't want to create room for me. I was one of a very small number of Black voices in a sea of privilege, and I felt alone in ways I can't give words to. But in this story, Falencia created an entire world of people who looked like me. Black mermaids, Black pirates, Black heroes, Black villains, Black gods....Black people who were fighting through a sea of white supremacy to find the inheritance their ancestors had left for them.

When I tell you that this book is a book every single Black (and otherwise marginalized) person should read, I mean that.

But more importantly, it's questions are questions that every person should be asking.

We have a big fight ahead of us. One that will not be won without these types of questions. One that cannot be won without Americans challenging the indoctrination that has been keeping us complicit for centuries. We HAVE to push back against the influence of white supremacy in western culture as a whole, but especially within Christianity. Because if we do not, it WILL overwhelm us all.

I have maintained that I believe literature has the power to change the world, and THIS is the impact I believe this specific book has the potential to have. It is a challenge to every western reader to ask the questions we've all been too afraid to ask and to remember who we are.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on what I've talked about in this article, but also, I would love if you would order a copy of Devil of the Deep and help make sure it reaches as far as it possibly can. Because I truly believe every word I have written in this blog. Christianity has been a tool in the hands of the world's oppressors for far too long. if we are ever going to be free, we have to do the work to take it away from them and to strip it of white supremacy and colonial intent.

If that sounds good to you, this is somewhere you can start. Here is a direct link. Grab your copy. And hey... grab one for a friend: https://bookshop.org/a/87137/9781967967049