Recent Thoughts on The Spiritual Dimension of the Study of History Part II

Recent Thoughts on 

The Spiritual Dimension of the Study of History 

Part II

The grand verses of Psalm 139:13-16 teach us to love and accept ourselves as unique children of Almighty God.  Inner healing and wholeness cannot emerge in the life of a person who fails to accept himself or herself as a child of God.  Self-doubt negates one’s ability to discover God’s purposes for life.  Wishing that one was someone other than one’s self greatly impedes one’s willingness to enjoy the abundant and eternal life that God offers in Christ.  Accordingly, I find the study of history central to the acquisition of the necessary self-acceptance to lead a holistic, successful, peaceful and fulfilling life.  History, then, possesses a very spiritual dimension.  It provides the emotional, psychological, mental and intellectual foundation for one’s personality.

Surprisingly, my trip to Turkey in July of last year with my colleagues in the Nashville Institute for Clergy Excellence taught me a lot about the substantive contributions of Africans to the ancient world.  As an African-American clergyperson, I find spiritual empowerment in discovering the myriad and majestic ways in which Almighty God revealed and continues to embody His creativity, contributions and gifts to humankind through people of African descent.  In the words of the Chaplain at Dartmouth College during my undergraduate years, The Rev. Dr. James P. Breeden, “Thank you God for your Blackness!”

In the center of Istanbul, a 3500 year old monument from Egypt stands prominently, piercing the surrounding skyline.  I posit that the Washington Monument in Washington DC was modeled after this structure, the name of which escapes me.  Incidentally, this monument was transported from Egypt in one piece via the “arcane” and “archaic” boating system of that time.  It still possesses the deeply engraved beauty of its original artwork, symbols and hieroglyphics.  Simply stated, it is a commanding structure which survives as an enduring testament of the invaluable origins of the African people to the ancient world.  This perspective is often left out of the great Western survey courses.  Second, we visited a synagogue on the first day of the trip.  In its sanctuary, we viewed the most ornate and rich wood, deeply black, which encased The Torah.  The guide mentioned that the wood came from Africa.  It was not painted.  Third, we traveled to the ruins of the great library at Pergamum.  At one time, this library contained more than 200,000 scrolls.  The library at Celsus in Ephesus had approximately 120,000 scrolls.  But, the ancient library at Alexandria in Egypt had more than 500,000 scrolls, making it the largest library in the ancient world.  Had it nit burned in the ninth century B.C., imagine the incalculable worth of its collection today.  Lest I fall pray to fallacy of a atavistic view of African history and culture, I cite these facts as being as central to the preaching of the gospel in the United States as a more imaginative and definitive reading of the book of Ephesians.  The cherished New Testament was used historically to subject people of African descent in the U. S.  Contemporarily, many expressions of American televangelism and the “Religious Right” acquiesce the residual White supremacist notions and theological hegemony of American Christianity.  Therefore, as an African-American clergyperson, I find it necessary to emphasize the contributions of African people in Diaspora, generally, and to the Christian faith, specifically.  It was most serendipitous to learn some new facts in this regard during my recent trip to Turkey.

In addition to learning about the inventions, artwork, labor, and cultural contributions of my African and African-American forbears, I am most interested in their intellectual, theological and ideological legacy.  To that end, I devour the books of DuBois, Baldwin and John Hope Franklin.  Primarily, I chose to attend Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York so that I could study with Professor James H. Cone, “the father of Black theology,” in that his writings formally systematizes the religious heritage and positions of African-Americans.  Additionally, Professor Albert Raboteau’s enduring book, Slave Religion, catalogues the distinct way in which American slaves interpreted Christianity despite the religion that the slaves masters in conjunction with the White clergy tried to force feed them.  Appropriating the immortal stories of the Israelites and the Exodus, slaves did not believe that God meant for them to be in bondage.  Their relationships with Christ necessitated their freedom, spiritually and mentally.  In time, they expected it physically.  Even secular historians agree that slaves undoubtedly prayed for the day of emancipation.  When I look upon my past, as a descendant of slaves perhaps only five generations removed from the horrors of that “peculiar institution,” I do not dwell upon the degradation, commoditization and subjugation that my forebears experienced.  Instead, I mine the historical past for the gems of their creative expression of faith in God and their determination to be free.  In so doing, I find spiritual empowerment to face life’s daily challenges with a similar Christian maturity.