African American Theology Reconsidered

Recently a friend told me about an experience he and his wife had as students at a flagship evangelical seminary in the early 1980s. “The black church,” one of their professors explained, “is not really a church because it does not have its own theology. Rather it’s a social organization.” Presumably he was basing his judgment on the absence of systematic theology articles and books produced by historically African American denominations. My friend didn’t say whether the professor, in a moment of notable self-reflection, went on to add ” … and every day when I look in the mirror I ask myself how the tradition of which I am a part effectively guaranteed that this would be the case, especially in evangelicalism,” or “of course, since our theological task is to winsomely deliver the faith once delivered across all contexts, I suppose having their ‘own’ theology is not the goal for a genuinely catholic church.” I doubt that is how the conversation continued at that moment or in many other places where the same assumption has reigned as “a simple matter of historical fact.”

While a search for tomes of Christian dogmatics written by African American theologians may yield little, Thabiti M. Anyabwile discovered that there is a much richer theology in the history of the African American church than one might expect. In The Decline of African American Theology: From Biblical Faith to Cultural Captivity, Anyabwile introduces us to figures such as Jupiter Hammon, Lemuel Haynes, and Olaudah Equiano and makes us more aware of the theology of the poet Phyllis Wheatley and the theology which was woven throughout slave narratives. Turning the spotlight on these figures presents the opportunity to write African American theology into the story of Christian theology in the United States. This is important, as it is unlikely that most students of theology at evangelical colleges and seminaries will learn that Hammon and Haynes were contemporaries of figures such as George Whitefield and John Wesley. The theology we discover is neither novel nor distinctively African American—that is not the point. Anyabwile is a Baptist pastor who clearly indicates from the outset that he operates with a normative gaze of Reformed theological orthodoxy. When he examines the theological fruit which emerged from the pens of these early American Christians, he discovers continuity with the impulses of the Reformation, broadly speaking. Looking at the doctrines of revelation, God, humanity, Christology, soteriology, and pneumatology, Anyabwile is surprised and encouraged by the depth and theological sophistication to be found, especially given the context of oppression and resistance to anything which might possibly improve the lot of African Americans (starting with basic literacy and knowledge of the Bible). While acknowledging the significant influence of the Wesleyan and Arminian impulses in the 19th century and beyond, Anyabwile is mostly pleased with the state of theology in the African American church through the end of the era of Reconstruction.

Of course, the book’s title is The Decline of African-American Theology, and the subtitle foretells a story of descent that culminates in a worrisome state of affairs for the African American church today: “From the earliest period of African American writing to the present, a clear and distinct theological decline could be traced. The rich God-centered treasure troves of Lemuel Haynes, Phyllis Wheatley and others were plundered, wasted, and forsaken until the fool’s gold of contemporary African American theology and preaching was all that remained.” As Anyabwile looks across the six doctrines covered in the book (a helpful structure, I think), he finds that the descent begins with William Seymour and the Azusa Street revival, followed by the New Thought and nationalism of Marcus Garvey, the mysticism of Howard Thurman, the Black Theology of James Cone, and the prosperity theology of Creflo Dollar, T.D. Jakes, and Fred Price. These are the main characters in the story of decline, though figures such as Benjamin Mays, Tony Evans, and Kelly Brown Douglas are also featured at certain points. Anyabwile concludes that the revisions and innovations made in the course of the 20th century led to a distorted theology more reflective of the surrounding culture than of the biblical witness.

While Anyabwile’s recovery of a forgotten tradition is welcome indeed, his narrative of decline is far less persuasive. It is troubling that the section labeled “End of Century, Postmodern era (1980-present)” does not give us a definition of “postmodern,” a contested and sometimes confusing term, until well into the narrative. The label is too provocative and too protean to keep us in suspense until then. Notable characters are absent from this account or so minimally present as to be insignificant. The book does not pretend to be exhaustive, but it is curious that Anyabwile chose to forgo any engagement with the major African American denominations. How can one assess African American theology without making much reference to the Church of God in Christ, the National Baptist Convention, the African Methodist Episcopal (A.M.E.) Church, and many others? If a majority of African American Christians attend a church affiliated with one of these communions, how can the story credibly be told if these voices are silent? When talking about Black Theology, how can there be only a single reference to J. Deotis Roberts?

In a country that has privileged innovation and elevates the individual and weaves the American dream into every possible situation, is it a surprise that not only the African American church but the U.S. church in general is better acquainted with consumerism than with Scripture?

The story of decline oscillates from figures who are activists to those who write more academically, and it is hardly clear that the views of all of these figures have so permeated the African American church as to display a traceable decline. While one can find figures throughout the 20th century who have exercised influence in one sphere or another, their presence and prominence does not guarantee either their connection to each other or their influence in the church. This is especially true of Cone’s work: his star has been bright in academia but correspondingly dim in the pulpits and pews of African American churches.

The account of William Seymour in this volume is also lacking. To suggest that Seymour introduced the doctrine of divine healing is decades too late, and to connect him easily with modern developments such as prosperity theology neglects the diversity of doctrinal development within Pentecostal and charismatic circles, as well as failing to notice the criticisms of prosperity theology within those traditions. Anyabwile appears to be cessationist from his evaluation of Pentecostalism, which is consistent with his brand of Reformed theology, and critiques certainly are fair, but this is not cause for too casually uniting all those under the umbrella of Pentecostal and charismatic Christianity.

Near the end of the pneumatology chapter, Anyabwile argues that we must be careful about how we think of the relationship between Christianity and cultural influences. He charges that the trends he deplores have been “shaped more by historical and cultural practice than by Scripture,” yet he seems unaware that he must in turn ask himself if he is accepting certain Western (Reformed) cultural norms as biblical.

Finally, when it comes to the reason for the decline itself, I am curious as to why Anyabwile leaves out the biggest culprit of all: America. In a country that has privileged innovation and elevates the individual and weaves the American dream into every possible situation, is it a surprise that not only the African American church but the U.S. church in general is better acquainted with consumerism than with Scripture?

The afterword briefly offers suggestions for reversing the decline. Recentering the Bible, re-exalting God, recovering the gospel, and revitalizing the church are emphases most would champion. Here, however, one finds indications that Anyabwile desires the African American church to become a kind of “truly Reformed” church if it is to find its way. As a neo-Calvinist myself, I am warm to the legacy of Calvin, but I find it dubious to suggest the use of the “regulative principle of worship.” Every tradition has had its debates about how the Bible instructs us to worship God, and I am unconvinced that introducing the regulative principle (a subject of ongoing debate within the Reformed tradition) will be much help, especially to those who are self-consciously in other streams of the faith.

My concerns aside, I am thankful to Anyabwile for helping to initiate a much-needed conversation. This book puts African Americans back into the story of Christian theology, and we must continue bringing to light the contributions of those so long disregarded.

Vincent Bacote is associate professor of theology at Wheaton College and Director of the Center for Applied Christian Ethics.