This book presents Liberative Black Preaching (Lbp) as an optimal homiletic model designed to function as a therapeutic intervention for African descent persons in the Black church context. Built upon the foundation of a Black theological anthropology, this exposition addresses Black self-identity that is informed by a Universal African Worldview (Uaw). The book argues that there is a recognizable diversity of contextuality among White and non-White persons and that it is possible to qualitatively describe generalizable contours of experience among Black people in the United States based on the particularity of the culture and the Black encounter with racism/White supremacy. The thoughts and feelings that emerge from this cultural encounter are appropriate for Africentric theological reflection. Historical evidence of the unfolding of Black thought with reference to Black religiosity and spirituality is presented as a preamble to the construction of the Liberative Black Preaching model.
Dr. F.Keith Slaughter
Therapeutic Dimensions of Black Preaching: The liberating impact on a people of Color
It all started when I was born in 1956. I grew up in a predominantly African American neighborhood in San Antonio TX. There might have been 1 or 2 Mexican American families in the whole neighborhood. But no other race lived there at that time. The neighborhood, comprised of 20 homes on either side of the street. These homes had pier foundations and the street was paved. Each house, had a small front porch from which parents and adults, could watch their children play outside. Our house was 1200sqft, 2.5 bedrooms, 1 bath, kitchen, and a living room. Even though it was not a large house, my mother lived in a good neighborhood. It was not a ghetto.
My mother had a chocolate complexion, medium hair stood about 5’7” tall and was slender in size. She was very beautiful. She worked as a nanny, taking care of a Caucasian couple’s children. I have 3 siblings. My mother and father did not marry. She married my stepfather and together they had two children. My mother and stepfather are African American. He was medium build, stood about 5’11” and had a light complexion. He worked at the Air Force Base in San Antonio TX. He was a handyman of sorts and could fix just about anything from electronics, cars to homes repairs. He also spoke, fluent Spanish. I accompanied him on several occasions whenever he needed my help.
I get my nice smile and looks from my father. He visited me often. He was an aircraft mechanic. Always driving new cars or a motorcycle. He had a brown complexion and stood about 5’10”. A very handsome African American male. I appreciated the fact that he and mom were cordial and friendly to one another even though, they did not marry.
On one of those visits my father introduced me to his girlfriend. She too lived in San Antonio TX. She was pretty in great shape, light complexion, long black hair, great legs, beautiful smile and African. But there was only one problem, she didn’t think I was my father’s child. She would call my mother only to tell her, may the best woman win. She ended up marrying my father and moved with him to Dallas TX. I liked her very much. I even told my father when I grew up, I was going to marry a woman just like her. My dad laughed.
I was in the 2nd grade, 7 years old and on the first day of school in class when I had my first encounter with relationships. I fell in love with, Ms. Daniels my 2nd grade teacher, a light complexion African American woman, with a nice figure, smile and smelled good. My mom thought I was a good waking up early in the mornings and never late to school. Hardly did she know that I couldn’t wait to get to school each day just, so I could see Ms. Daniels. She would give me a hug and thank me for bringing her an apple. I knew, she understood I had a crush on her. I was so in love with Ms. Daniels, I told her I was going to marry her when I grew up. Of course, she smiled. I was so sad when school closed for the summer break that year. I couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing Ms. Daniels for months.
My neighbor became the second encounter. Rachel, a Mexican American girl a year older than me. I remember her mother gone most of the time. But Rachel, was always home by herself. She was tall and a little heavy for her age. Rachel and I would play together sometimes. One Saturday morning, while playing, hide and seek outside, Rachel offered to give me some water to drink. I much obliged. So, we went into her house and she gave me some water. Then, the un-imaginable happened. Rachel decided that she was too tired to go back outside and play instead, she needed to rest on her bed. She asked me to rest with her. So, I did. Before I knew it, she kissed me on the lips. I was stunned and for a moment didn’t know what to think……
Mack & Gloria An African American-Love Affair
WHEN MY FATHER LEFT, I LOST MY SIGHT is a story of a girl, born to teenage parents. She must learn to deal with the impact and harsh realities of a single parent household, while navigating deep emotional and psychological deprivations caused by an absentee father. This trauma causes her to endure, perilous circumstances while seeking solace in the cruelty of emotionally manipulative relationships and suffers the same consequences of what seems to be an entrapment of a painful vicious cycle with no end in sight. This story for once, sheds light on the silent cries of little girls whose only fault is looking for a father that never was. Pain reflects deferred hope that life can be an enjoyable event. We are born to experience both happiness and sadness. Simply put, it’s unfair to be denied the happiness as a child from a father in whom the very idea of protection and provision is shaped in the innocence of a little girl’s eyes.
When my Father Left, I Lost my Sight