A landmark in the development of Black Theology and the first effort to present a systematic theology drawing fully on the resources of African-American religion and culture.
James Hal Cone was an advocate of Black liberation theology, a theology grounded in the experience of African Americans, and related to other Christian liberation theologies. In 1969, his book Black Theology and Black Power provided a new way to articulate the distinctiveness of theology in the black Church. James Cone’s work was influential and political from the time of his first publication, and remains so to this day. His work has been both utilized and critiqued inside and outside of the African American theological community.
Every white self-professed theologian and pastor who continues to preach or speak about anything other than struggle with and the liberation for the oppressed, has strayed tremendously from the Gospel and in the words of brother Cone, "...it is blasphemy."
Cone is systematic in his deconstruction of white theology and its relationship with the status quo (government, law, color). A revolutionary thinker that still speaks and reaches the racial tensions we are undergoing today. Predominantly white churches should consider implementing this work into their communities, as an interruption to white spaces and white noise in order to hear the voices they oppress and suppress daily. White people must forsake their metaphysical theologies and wrestle with their whiteness and the Gospel before them.
Cone writes: "When whites undergo the true experience of conversion where in they die to their whiteness and are reborn anew in order to struggle against white oppression and for the liberation of the oppressed, there is a place for them in the black struggle of freedom. Here reconciliation becomes God's gift of blackness through the oppressed of the land. But it must be made absolutely clear that it is the black community that decides both the authenticity of white conversion and also the place these converts will play in the black struggle of freedom. The converts can have nothing to say about the validity of their conversion experience or what is best for the community or their place in it, except as permitted by the oppressed of the community itself."
As a white person, this book was an event in my whiteness, an encounter with a new truth. This truth was a "liberating event, a divine happening..." Very few books have challenged me in this way. I can no longer workout a theology in abstract and theoretical jargon. God is grounded in being, in the human being that struggles for liberation.
Will I risk this body, this voice, this color to speak out against white oppressors, Or will I just hit play on Macklemore's White Privilege II song and continue to nod my head?
Extraordinary work and required reading for any Christian interested in anti-racism. Powerfully argued with a deep Christology, love of the Bible, and faith. His perspective is missing from much of today's dialogue, especially among social-justice-forward Christians. James Cone was a great follower of Jesus and unfortunately we have not learned enough of what he has taught us. We need to keep listening and acting.
As my rating indicates, I really didn't like this book the first time I read it. That was a long time ago, though, so I recently decided to read it again. I found a little more to appreciate, but I'm still sticking with my original opinion that this book represents deeply flawed theology.
What's good about the book Cone's insistance that God sides with the poor and oppressed and that any version of Christianity that doesn't take that seriously (by becoming too other-worldly, for example) is inadequate. Cone also rightly points out that black people in America have been and continue to be oppressed and that many white christians have actively endorsed this, even if the last part of that equation has become far less prevelent since the book first came out in the 1970s.
The problems with the book arise from the too simple dichotomy Cone draws between good and evil, oppressed and oppressor, and black and white. Although I'm sure Professor Cone would object, his cosmology is strikingly similar to George W. Bush's: the world can be neatly divided into good and evil, the former being without flaws or nearly so and the latter being demonic. This comes up in at least three ways throughout the book. First, in his haste to confer upon black people sole status as sufferers, Cone ignores or distorts American racial history. For him, all whites are the descendants of slave-owners and all blacks are descendants of slaves. This just isn't true. Most crucially for his story, most whites are descedants of people who, like blacks but to a far lesser degree, were victoms of the slave economic system: poor white farmers in the south or poor imigrants in the north. But, according to Cone, because they were white and slave owners were white, all were equally part of the oppressor group.
Second, Cone valorizes and sacralizes every part of black culture. Because blacks were oppressed and God sides with the oppressed, everything black people do must be sacred. Sometimes this is just silly, like when Cone argues that blues songs about cheating women are sources of revelation equivalent to the bible and the black church. But there are more serious problems as well. For example, Cone praises black people for not being impressed by fancy academic credentials and for being able to mask their own intelligence because it helped them survive slavery. However useful these skills may have been in the nineteenth century, though, are they really unqualified goods now? Isn't disdain for education a serious problem in many black communities? Cone is silent on these issues. He does acknowledge a few problems in black life, such as sexism, violence, and drugs but he attributes them solely to white influence. Cone was right to condemn those who would divorce theology totally from the world, but here he seems to commit the opposite error of collapsing the distinction between what is (culture) and what ought to be.
Finally and most seriously, Cone believes that the categories of oppressed and oppressor are immutable, even across generations. Once a group is oppressed, they get God on their side permanently and forever after will be righteous. This seems to me very dangerous. After all, every group has stories (accurate or not) about a time when they were oppressed, the memory of which justifies all sorts of horrible actions in the present. This is nicely illustrated by a Psalm that Cone quotes in part. The first part of Psalm 137 is one of the most famous parts of the bible. There's even a reggie song of it. It starts out "By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept." The Babylonians demand the exiles sing a Jewish song and they promise God never to forget Jerusalem. Cone quotes this part early in the book as evidence that God is on the side of the oppressed. But he completely ignores the last stanza, in which the author envisions the fall of Babylon and imagines how great it will be to get revenge on them by throwing Babylonian babies against rocks. It's pretty horrifying, and I think it must be intended to make the reader think twice about the morality of righteous vengance. Cone may have a different view, but to ignore it altogether strikes me as highly dishonest.
Cone talks a lot about Bonhoffer's conept of cheap grace, accusing white theologians of settling for it rather than doing the hard work of coming to terms with America's history of racial oppression. There's a lot of truth to that accusation, but Cone is in a terrible place to make it. For him, God is 100% on his side, he is totally blameless, and all he must do to achieve reconciliation is get rid of white domination. So who is peddling cheap grace here?
A final thought in a too-long review. This book was intended to promote Black Theology as an intellectual justification for the Black Power movement. Cone spends a whole chapter justifying violence on the part of black people and rejecting non-violence as inadequate. A violent and unjust society, he argues, cannot be overturned without violence and black people cannot expect white people to go along with what needs to be done. Without denying that out society now (2009) remains unjust and that racism continues to exist, it's manifestly obvious that we're better off than we were in the '70s. And while I'm not an expert, it seems clear that most of that progress is due to non-violent, cooperative work done "within the system" and not to a violent overthrow of the system. That more than anything both dates this book severely and calls all of its conclusions into question.
It is not enough to "make room" or "be welcoming" of oppressed or marginalized people in our religious communities. We must make the active choice to be radically led by those voices. I used to say that I left Mormonsim because of how it treated people of color, gays and women. I'm realizing now that this is a poor way to look at it, discounting the experiences of marginalized folks who choose to stay. What really left me empty in Mormonism was how it treated straight, white men, like me. Never asking us to question our privilege, and at what cost it came for others in our faith traditions.
I feel like in a lot of ways UUism is largely (and there are some important exceptions) a collection of people who recognized that institutional Christianity was fundamentally broken for them, that they had no good word from White, straight, patriarchal Christianity and no authentic space to occupy in Black Christianity and perhaps no workable concept of God at all. I'm not sure what James Cone thinks of UUism. I'm sure, if he thinks of it at all, he has many authentic critiques of how we pat ourselves on the back for being more progressive than the protestant church down the street. But I still feel like there is some serious potential in this faith for a new way of talking about privilege and restructuring society that perhaps cannot be offered in other settings. I'm deeply unsure of my ability to lead people like me in actively choosing to be led by the voices of the marginalized, but I also do not believe it is right to expect that the marginalized bear the responsibility for actively guiding each and every repentant white person towards reconciliation while they passively are pulled along.
I first learned about black liberation theology in theology class at seminary. If I recall correctly, we were reading a book on Christology and the author was analyzing all sorts of views of Christ from the ancient debates between people like Arius and Athanasius to contemporary discussions including feminists, Latin American theologians and black liberation theologians. I still have that book on my shelf and would like to peruse it again, just because I kept thinking about it as I read this work by Cone. As I have learned over and over in my life, there is a large difference between reading about someone and reading what that person has to say (just like talking about vs. talking to).
Cone grounds his theology in black experience. What is interesting is that what I learned in seminary was, they said, just theology while people like Cone do "black liberation theology." Implied in this is that some of us are unbiased, just doing pure theology, while others bring their biases in. What Cone emphasizes, and he is right, is that none of us are unbiased. He is very clear that his theology comes out of his experience as a black Christian man. What more of us white people need to realize and admit is that our theology is driven by our white biases and presuppositions.
Cone argues that the Bible presents God as primarily a God of liberation. This is seen in the story of Exodus right on through Jesus. Any theology that does not emphasize God as liberator of the weak and oppressed falls short. Thus Cone is critical of much dispassionate theology through the ages that seems to float above the life lived in the real world. Critical he may be, he is not axe-grinding critical. Quick to point out flaws, he also knows the theology he is criticizing. This is why any Christian pastor or theologian needs to read Cone - he is a great theologian.
He is great, but his work is uncomfortable to read. But such discomfort is necessary. Those of us who live in comfort of our privilege need to be discomforted more often.
One other thing I appreciated about Cone's work, and one huge reason his work is so important, is how he described the black church as not interested in so many debates white churches have. For example, things like creation-evolution or Calvinism-Arminianism do not play a huge role in the black church. He says those are debates people have who are comfortable and not needing to fight for liberation. The oppressed do not need to worry about how God created, they need to know if God cares about them in their plight. For Cone there is no divide between theology and ethics; true theology gets into the real world and makes it better.
The one place I would want to question Cone is where he notes that Christian teaching on non-violence arises out of the theology of oppressors. In other words, white people in America used violence to get power and now preach non-violence to oppressed black people in order to keep our power. Perhaps this is true of America, but what about the early Anabaptists? People like Menno Simons faced persecution from Catholics and Lutherans during the Reformation. There is a tradition of nonviolence that goes back quite far. I am sure Cone knows that, so I am curious how it fits into his critique.
This is a really tough, challenging and fulfilling read. Had to take a couple breaks to gain some levity but defiantly a must read if you're in the theology/black theology space.
There is much to admire about James Cone, and God of the Oppressed captures his most compelling qualities as a theologian. What stands out most is his willingness to engage with criticism—whether from established theologians, academic peers, or other marginalized groups—while maintaining intellectual honesty and humility. In this work, Cone thoroughly and fearlessly articulates his theological perspective, holding a mirror up to both the contemporary church and historical tradition. In doing so, he exposes their failure to embrace liberation as a central biblical theme and make it a fundamental priority.
While God of the Oppressed refines and expands upon Cone's earlier works (Black Theology and Black Power and A Black Theology of Liberation), its full impact is felt when read as part of this trilogy. Together, these books form a cohesive intellectual journey, each building on the last as Cone systematically develops the core principles of Black Liberation Theology.
This book isn't the boogeyman your pastor (or uncle or regular podcaster or favorite Reformed theologians) has made it out to be. Of course, Cone is provocative, and intentionally so, I think. But I'd argue there's a lot of value here if you read charitably, considering the theological and historical context of the 70s.
It's okay to disagree with Cone (I do at points), but not if that disagreement is based off out-of-context quotes which are primed to be rejected.
This is essential reading for anyone with an interest in Christian theology. It is both systematically clear and stirringly prophetic. I loved Cone's 'A Black Theology of Liberation', and this book is even better. A book I will return to again and again.
I led a class discussion based on this book for a theology class at Baylor in Fall 2013. We were assigned up through p. 149. I should read this again sometime. Helpful review here. See some thoughts about Cone's liberation theology here and here.
I've heard that Bradley's Liberating Black Theology is a thoughtful critique of Cone's theology.
Eye-opening. Controversial for sure. This book made me uncomfortable, and I’m sure that was Cone’s goal. I have a feeling this book will be the beginning of a harsh pivot in my Christian beliefs and ideology.
"God is the political God, the Protector of the poor and the Establisher of the right for those who are oppressed... For theologians to speak of this God, they too must become interested in politics and economics, recognizing that there is no truth about Yahweh unless it is the truth of freedom as that event is revealed in the oppressed people's struggle for justice in this world." (Page 57)
An antidote to our times and solution for the society we live in. I just wish I could help everyone else see it.
An eternal thank you to Katelyn for introducing me to Cone and liberation theology lo those 8 years ago. I still think about that presentation about Job’s suffering and suffering’s not being inherently redemptive.
This was a very hard and challenging read that I did as part of the curriculum for the Newbigin Cohort. Cone is refreshingly direct and blunt about the shortcomings of white theology, statements that unfortunately ring as true now as they did when he wrote the book almost 50 years ago. There were parts that felt very hard and admittedly uncomfortable for me as a white woman, but it was the good type of discomfort that I need to face given the privilege and white supremacist culture I've been deeply steeped in. It's certainly one I will be mulling over for a long time and that needs to be much more widely read by the white American church.
"[Jesus Christ's] presence in our midst requires that we subordinate our personal interests to the coming liberation for all. Those who see God's coming liberation breaking into the present must live as if the future is already present in their midst. They must bear witness to humanity's liberation by freeing the present from the past and for the future. This means fighting for the inauguration of liberation in our social existence, creating new levels of human relationship in society.
"The struggle for liberation is the service the people of God render for all, even those who are responsible for the structure of slavery."
James Hal Cone (born 1938) is an American theologian who is Professor of Systematic Theology at Union Theological Seminary, where he has taught since 1970. [NOTE: page numbers below refer to the 280-page paperback edition.]
He wrote in the Preface of this 1974 book, “In this book, I take the risk of revealing the origin of my commitment to the Christian faith; not for its own sake, but for the sake of the theology I seek to explicate… In this present work, I do not abandon the intellectual search but simply integrate it with the existential and social formation of my faith as it was and is being shaped in the black community. I hope that this approach… will help to join the black theological enterprise more firmly with the true source of its existence—the black community.”
He recalls, “when I… began to teach at Philander Smith College… I encountered head-on the contradictions of my seminary education as I attempted to inform black students about the significance of theological discourse. What could Karl Barth possibly mean for black students who had come from the cotton fields of Arkansas, Louisiana and Mississippi, seeking to change the structure of their lives in a society that had defined BLACK as nonbeing? What is the significance of Nicea and Chalcedon for those who knew Jesus NOT as a thought in their heads to be analyzed in relation to a similar thought called God; they knew Jesus as a Savior and a friend, as the ‘lily of the valley and the bright and morning star’?” (Pg. 5)
He points out, “black slaves believed that just as God had delivered Moses and the Israelites from Egyptian bondage, he also will deliver black people from American slavery. And they expressed that theological truth in song… That truth did not come from white preachers; it came from a liberating encounter with the One who is the Author of black faith and existence. As theologians, we must ask: What is the source and meaning of freedom expressed in this spiritual?” (Pg. 11)
He observes, “Unfortunately not only white seminary professors but some blacks as well have convinced themselves that only the white experience provides the appropriate context for questions and answers concerning things divine. They do not recognize the narrowness of their experience and the particularity of their theological expressions. They like to think of themselves as UNIVERSAL people. That is why most seminaries emphasize the need for appropriate TOOLS in doing theology, which always means WHITE tools, i.e., knowledge of the language and thought of white people. They fail to recognize that other people also have thought about God and have something significant to say about Jesus’ presence in the world.” (Pg. 14-15)
He explains, “Having described the two sources of Black Theology (black experience and Scripture), it is now important to distinguish both sources from their subject or essence, which is Jesus Christ… The emphasis on Jesus Christ and the Scripture as the subject and source of the presence of transcendence in black experience raises the question of the precise relationship between them… perhaps the place t begin for clarification is to state emphatically that, like Scripture, the black experience is a SOURCE of the Truth but not the Truth itself.” (Pg. 32-33)
He states, “Black Theology’s answer to the question of hermeneutics can be stated briefly: The hermeneutical principle for an exegesis of the Scripture is the revelation of God in Christ as the Liberator of the oppressed from social oppression and to political struggle, wherein the poor recognize that their fight against poverty and injustice is not only consistent with the gospel but is the gospel of Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ the Liberator… is the point of departure for valid exegesis of the Scriptures from a Christian perspective.” (Pg. 81-82)
He points out, “Black Theology, denying the charge that it is a mere reduction to current black politics, asserts that Christian theology begins and ends with divine revelation. While divine revelation takes place in history, God’s reality can never be reduced merely to human goals and struggles in the historical sphere.” (Pg. 96)
He observes, “The historical Jesus emphasizes the social context of Christology and thereby establishes the importance of Jesus’ racial identity. Jesus was a Jew! The particularity of Jesus’ person as disclosed in his Jewishness is indispensable for christological analysis… Jesus’ Jewishness therefore was essential to his person. He was not a ‘universal’ man but a particular Jew who came to fulfill God’s will to liberate the oppressed. His Jewishness establishes the concreteness of his existence in history, without which Christianity inevitably moves in the direction of Docetism.” (Pg. 119)
He notes, “the same white theologians who laughingly dismiss Albert Cleage’s The Black Messiah say almost nothing about the European (white) images of Christ plastered all over American homes and churches. I perhaps would respect the integrity of their objections to the Black Christ on scholarly grounds, if they applied the same vigorous logic to Christ’s whiteness, especially in contexts where his blackness is not advocated.” (Pg. 134)
He says, “To affirm that liberation is an expression of the image of God is to say not only who God is but also who I am and who my people are. Liberation is knowledge of self; it is a vocation to affirm who I am created to be. Furthermore, it is clear from divine revelation as witnessed in Scripture that authentic liberation of self is attainable only in the context of an oppressed community in the struggle for freedom… There can be no freedom for God unless the hungry are fed, the sick are healed, and justice is given for the poor.” (Pg. 146-147)
He asks, “Why is it that white theologians in America have interpreted God’s relation to black suffering in such a manner that the divine empowerment of the oppressed to fight actively against the evils of racism is absent from their analyses?... Only those whose thinking emerges in the context of the struggle against injustice can see God’s freedom breaking into unfree conditions and thus granting power to the powerless to right here and now for the freedom they know to be theirs in Jesus’ cross and resurrection.” (Pg. 183)
He says, “To summarize Black Theology’s perspective on suffering, we can say it is based on the Scripture and the black Christian experience which claim that the God of Jesus is the Liberator of the oppressed from oppression. Although the continued existence of black suffering offers a serious challenge to the biblical and black faith, it does not negate it. The reason is found in Jesus Christ who is God’s decisive Word of liberation in our experience that makes it possible to struggle for freedom because we know that God is struggling too.” (Pg. 194)
He asserts, “White oppressors must be excluded from this black ethical dialogue, because they cannot be trusted. To those whites who continually proclaim their goodwill, despite the long history of racism, the most blacks can say: ‘There may be a place for you, but you will have to do what we say, without suggesting that you know what is best for our liberation.’ Few if any whites can accept this… But we do not need to debate the meaning of fairness or Christianity without oppressors. For they, of all people, have not earned the right even to utter these words. Our task is to be what we are in spite of white people, because we have seen the vision of freedom, and it is calling us to put the world in shape.” (Pg. 216-217)
He concludes, “Thus the atonement of Jesus Christ represents God taking the place of the oppressed in history so that they might be given the freedom to create a new future as defined by the liberation struggle in history. Instead of black people having to accept the consequences of white oppression, Jesus takes our place and undergoes the depth of the pain of being black in a white racist society and thereby transforms the condition of alienation into the possibility and the actuality of reconciliation.” (Pg. 237)
This book will be of great interest to those seriously studying Black Theology---particularly after they have read his 'Black Theology and Black Power' and 'A Black Theology of Liberation.'
I was assigned to read this book when I first started my M.Div. work at Princeton Theological Seminary in the early '80s. Coming as I was from an overwhelmingly white, insulated, safe, and conservative upbringing in Orange County, California, I had virtually none of the cultural, social, intellectual, or experiential tools which are necessary for understanding Cone's arguments. So, I set the book aside; and it has resided on my bookshelf for the past 30 years. After hearing of James Cone's death earlier this year, I decided to take another shot at this book; and I'm very glad that I did. It is a critically important document for understanding the basic foundations of Black Theology; and also for gaining an appreciation for the monstrous oppression which has been, and continues to be, the experience of people of color in our country. That experience is at the center of Cone's arguments about what Black Theology is, and how Black Theology is to be done.
I can't claim to have a total understanding of all of Cone's arguments, but he does make some points which I think that most of us can "get," and which are helpful to the task of taking seriously the experience, concerns, and perspectives of African Americans. 1) Cone reminds us that theology is never merely an intellectual, or theoretic, or sentimental, or spiritual exercise; it is always done from within the social, cultural, and political experience of the theologian. The black experience of slavery and oppression can never be divorced from the discipline of doing of black theology. 2) the oppression/racism experienced by people of color in America is deeply entrenched, ongoing, institutionalized, and largely not noticed or appreciated by white people. 3) Jesus was regularly on the side of the oppressed in His ministry, which mirrors the activity of God, whose main objective was providing release to the captives and relief to the oppressed. Cone emphasizes the point that the reconciliation and salvation provided by the ministry of Jesus is never just a spiritual or "other worldly" thing; it's always also "this worldly" and connected to real acts of liberation for those who are exploited, oppressed, and enslaved.
So much more could be added, but this gives the basic gist of the volume. Although written in the mid-70's, this book still speaks to our our country, our churches, and our discipleship today. It is, in many ways, a very difficult book, because it lays down an unsparing challenge to those of us who can, and should, be making a difference to those among us who are suffering. Nevertheless, it's an argument that needs to be heard and acted upon, perhaps now more than at any other time since it was written.
Honestly, my words cannot do this book any justice. James Cone lays the foundation for Black Theology. I honestly had to read this book slowly for two reasons. First, Cone was a genius who wrestled with philosophy outside the scope of the intro course that I took. Second I had to digest the material. Highly recommend this book.
Cone provides a unique contribution to Christian discourse that I personally found to be important for my spirituality. His challenges to classical and contemporary 'white' theologies are overpowering, even if he seems to overstate his case at times. This may be due to the almost prophetic nature of Cone's prose.
His treatments of the theme of suffering, and his exegetical re-reading of the Bible in terms of God's identification with the oppressed are gripping and extremely well-written. In addition, his conclusions based on his ontological claims about God mediated through the person of Christ--that dominant societal categories must be challenged and destroyed, and that it is the Christian's duty to work to liberate the oppressed--gave my life much of the meaning it was lacking.
I particularly found Cone's arguments about the necessity to deconstruct the white categories of "nonviolence" to be particularly persuasive, perhaps one of the best arguments against universal claims about nonviolence I have read.
Cone's categories of whiteness and blackness can be rather inflammatory, so it is important to understand exactly what he means by them as one is reading. I also do not agree with some of his conclusions at the very end of his book regarding the need for all whites to submit themselves to what all blacks deem necessary to liberate oppressed peoples. That said, I found Cone's work to be the greatest work of theology I have ever read.
Cone's theological project of the '60s and '70s culminates here. Coming to it years after Black Theology and Black Power, I was pleasantly surprised by how thoroughly Cone had absorbed the obvious critiques of his work, and how thoughtfully he addressed them. "Doesn't racism oppress both Blacks and Whites?" you might find yourself wondering elsewhere in his early work. This book addresses that. "Is there room for a truly supernatural evil in this essentially liberal cosmology?" Yep, he goes there too. As strong as all the earlier volumes are (A Black Theology of Liberation and The Spirituals and the Blues), this is the one that completes them all by drawing their themes together systematically. Ideally, read all four. If only one, read the first (BTBP), for its irreplaceable, still-needed rhetorical shock. If only two, make it BTBP and this one, for its clarity of thought alongside purpose.
This was a very thought provoking book. Cone believes that since Jesus came to liberate the oppressed, all theology must be evaluated based on what it has to say to the poor and marginalized. Speculative theology that does not liberate is not worthwhile. And so Cone puts black story and suffering in conversation with modern theology, maintaining that the experience of oppression gives the black community unique insight into what God is doing in the world today.
There is much here to make a white reader like myself uncomfortable... But in a good way. I'm finding that this is an issue where I need to listen before I speak.
Dated in some ways (written in the 1970's), but still well worth reading.
This is a "tough" book, especially for whites, but it is one well worth reading and thinking about deeply. Dr. Cone probably over-stated some points, but he probably needed to.
The book is dated in some ways, but the basic points Dr. Cone makes still need to be thought about seriously by us whites in America.
For those who have not read this book, I would recommend that you do--but read it with the intention of understanding and reflecting rather than for the purpose of rebutting what seems unpalatable.
We still disagree on the ethics of violence, as well as a few minor issues, but still, this was a challenging, eye opening read with so many important ideas.
I'm keeping track of some of the cool quotes as I read since I checked this book out from the library and can't underline everything I like.
"The Christian community, therefore, is that community that freely becomes oppressed, because they know that Jesus himself has defined humanity's liberation in the context of what happens to the little ones. Christians join the cause of the oppressed in the fight for justice not because of some philosophical principle of "the Good" or because of a religious feeling of sympathy for people in prison. Sympathy does not change the structures of injustice. The authentic identity of Christians with the poor is found in the claim which the Jesus-encounter lays upon their own life-style, a claim that connects the word "Christian" with the liberation of the poor. Christians fight not for humanity in general but for themselves and out of their love for concrete human beings." (p. 135)
Awesome! A perfect way to summarize my world view.
***
Cone has a entire beautiful section on suffering. While he still doesn't answer concretely enough, "Why does oppression exist if God is against oppression?" (has anyone ever found an answer to such a question?), he does point out some very inspiring things. For example:
"The pain of the oppressed is God's pain, for God takes their suffering as God's own, thereby freeing them from its ultimate control of their lives. The oppressed do not have to worry about suffering because its power over their lives was defeated by God.... This divine event that happened on the cross liberated the oppressed to fight against suffering while not being determined by it." (p. 161)
And:
"The oppressed are called to fight against suffering by becoming God's suffering servants in the world. The vocation is not a passive endurance of injustice but, rather, a political and social praxis of liberation on the world, relieving the suffering of the little ones and proclaiming that God has freed them to struggle for the fulfillment of humanity....Therefore when suffering is inflicted upon the oppressed, it is evil and we must struggle against it. But when suffering arises out of the struggle against suffering, as in the fight against injustice we accept it as a constituent of our calling and thus voluntarily suffer, because there is no freedom independent of the fight for justice."
It helps one to accept suffering, if not understand it.
***
The last few chapters of the book are not as powerful as the first. I feel like Cone shows a divisiveness at the end that is a little off track. For example:
"We cannot afford to let white people interpret the meaning of Scripture for us. Inevitably they will interpret the biblical story according to their racial interests." (p. 188)
I completely agree that a white theologian can probably never understand the depths of the black experience. But words like "inevitably" and "all" and "always" shut out allies and sympathizers. I agree with Cone and his analysis, but he precludes me from joining in the cause.
I agree with him that "oppressors" should be regarded as an enemy. But it is troubling that he applies that label equally to all white people. I suppose I am an oppressor in the sense that I benefit from the racist structures that hold black people down. But I myself want to fight against those structures. Does inadvertently benefiting from privilege disqualify me from fighting for justice?
***
He approaches the answer to some very important questions in his brief discussion of violence:
"We repeat: the question is not what Jesus did, as if his behavior in first-century Palestine were the infallible ethical guide for our actions today. We must ask not what he did, but what he is doing -- and what he did becomes important insofar as it points to his activity today. To use the Jesus of history as an absolute ethical guide for people today is to become enslaved to the past, foreclosing God's eschatological future and its judgment on the present." (p. 204)
And here: "However, even if it could be shown that Jesus was not a revolutionary zealot, that in itself would not be evidence that the risen Christ is not involved in the oppressed's struggle for freedom today. For the resurrected Christ is not bound by first-century possibilities."
I really want to know how liberation theology addresses the question of a Jesus who urged listeners to turn the other cheek to their oppressors, even while I see the other radical aspects of his behavior and teachings. Cone comes close here.
***
He has great things to say about reconciliation and liberation. He cites passages demonstrate Christ's calling to "reconcile us", or "to unite all things in himself." There is certainly a Christian obligation for unity. However, I have always been pained at people who celebrate unity in the face of inequality. It saddens me to hear, "Isn't it great that we can all come worship here, rich and poor, and that our class doesn't matter?" Especially from an LDS perspective, but just in general, I think inequality should never be celebrated. Here's what Cone says about it:
"There could have been no covenant at Sinai without the Exodus from Egypt, no reconciliation without liberation. Liberation is what God does to effect reconciliation, and without the former, the latter is impossible. To be liberated is to be delivered from a state of unfreedom to freedom; it is to have the chains struck off the body and mind so that the creature of God can be who he or she is. Reconciliation is that bestowal of freedom and life with God which takes place on the basis of God's liberating deeds.... To speak of reconciliation apart from God's liberating activity is to ignore the divine basis of the divine-human relationship." (p. 210)
I think this concept has especially potent power in an LDS context.
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What should we do once we are brought into contact with God and freed to fight for liberation?
"There can be no reconciliation with God unless the hungry are fed, the sick are healed, and justice is given to the poor. The justified person is at once the sanctified person, one who knows that his or her freedom is inseparable from the liberation of the weak and the helpless." (p. 214)
I LOVE this!
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I am impressed by his ability to address such a wide range of criticisms in this book. He was under attack by every theologian to his right for this extreme views. And he was criticized by black power radicals and Marxist revolutionaries for accepting what they viewed to be an oppressive religion. Viewed from this vantage point, it is incredible that he was able to come up with an argument that confronted criticisms from every side.
I am a little taken aback by the change of tone I perceived in the first 8 chapters of the book compared to the closing chapters. I found the majority of the book to be hopeful and empowered. It was a wondrous, strong proclamation of truth. In the last two chapters, I suddenly felt the context in which he was writing this.... the Civil Rights Movement. I felt a lot more bitterness and exclusivity in the closing pages. I felt the opening chapters were an invitation to the whole world to change their understanding of God and the Christian duty. I, as a white person, even a white radical, was distinctly NOT the audience of the last two chapters. They were written for black people, and seemed a little harsh in their absolute rejection of any sort of white attempt to speak on the issue.
I wonder how much of the bitterness that comes through in the last pages would stand today - I know that, institutionally speaking, racism is far from a problem of the past. But removed from the incredibly charged political context of the 60s and 70s, would his words have the same vitriol?
And, I want to sit him down and ask him, "What do you want me to do? How am I being oppressive simply because of my whiteness?" Because I have never been through the experience of being black, I am open to the idea that I might indeed be carrying on oppressive behaviors or ideas. But his absolute refusal (in the last pages) to open communication with "white people" closes me off to learning about his vision for the future. I refuse to believe that the only way to build a brighter future is for me to shut up and abdicate my responsibility to the community. I much prefer Audre Lorde's vision of the sparking of ideas that can result from difference.
I am absolutely going to someday revisit this book, particularly the first 8 chapters, which I found to be incredibly deep and poignant. I want to digest the ideas, having now been introduced to them. So, anyone reading, this book would be an awesome gift idea for me! :)
EDIT FROM 11/2014 - Wow, rereading my review a few years later I want to cringe at myself quite a bit. Sorry I was all whiny about getting my white feelings hurt. :( I should probably give the closing chapters of this book another shot.
Cone says, “theology has to arise out of an oppressed community as they seek to understand their place in the history of salvation.” The question is—where will that lead white theologians vs black theologians? Rich pastors vs liberation priests? Religion is odd in that it is both universal, in language and practices, but also particular, in language and practices. If we follow the logic from above, the God we all pray to our manifestations of the history we have lived. So the ethics we may or may not derive from Jesus Christ will be different.
Feuerbach and Marx contend that the idea of God is humanity itself projected to infinity. Since ideas are limited to human experience and history, and the bourgeois or ruling class ideas “are nothing more than the ideal expression of the dominant material relationships grasped as ideas,” those ideas are maintained in the status quo. Religion as a tool is oppression. Marx goes on to say that Feuerbach never went to the radical conclusions of his critique of Hegelian idealism. That it is necessary to overthrow the existing state of things. Of our perceptions or formulations of God. Thus a radical and liberatory view of God from the working class is an expression of the working class’s viewpoint.
If we follow this logic, white theology and black theology are fundamentally different. Black theology was developed through the enslaved assertions of Jesus Christ as the liberator of the oppressed. As that of traditional American white theology is rooted (and spoke for) in enslavers and the ruling class. Is not Black theology a step in overthrowing the existing perception of God? There was no time for philosophical or abstract theological debate about the nature of atonement rather it was lived with their religion concretely through history, the enslaved looking for their liberation in the great liberator.
To contend with parts of the book, while Cone’s analysis is profound and this is considered his magnum opus, I find it lacking compared to the shorter “Black Theology of Liberation.” He finds Marx to be inspiring in terms of liberation but lacking because it’s from a “white” perspective. I think this is not only reductive towards race but it also ignores all the additions by Black Marxists like Jones, Davis, etc. Cone, especially in the last chapter, emphasize the divide on racial lines as tantamount to the divide on class lines and I think that’s a product of the times and a lack of class analysis. I will say I like his chapter about violence. He separates his ethos from that of MLK’s, who he describes as following liberal theology of liberation, by saying violence/nonviolence is not decided by the oppressors. We do not look to the past as a WWJD, but rather, as Cone says “[Jesus’] actions were not as much examples as they were signs of God’s eschatological future and the divine will to liberate all people from slavery and oppression.” When we confront any discourse of violence, as a Catholic, I question whether the actions of the oppressed or the oppressors, are consistent with God’s work in history?
The long held questions are, Is God all-powerful? And is God good? If we assume that God is, why allow oppression? If you are all-powerful? Why not stop it. We have seen how the belief in God/Yahweh/Allah as the liberator of the oppressed in countless examples from Harriet Tubman, Hamas, John Brown. My response is short, we can view Jesus and the God of the Exodus as inspirations for liberation, but liberation from oppression is in the hands of us and us alone.
I've been wanting to listen to this for a while now, as standpoint epistemology and liberation theology have been "hot topics" and subjects of debate recently. I could sympathize with Cone's call for justice for the oppressed, especially when he related it to fighting against "powers and principalities," and his views that God deeply loves the downtrodden. However, as another reviewer has said, his presuppositions totally overshadow and dismiss his ability to come to the Word of God with any semblance of integrity. Cone's theology is ultimately, man-centered and prideful. Standpoint epistemology just cannot stand up to what God has revealed through Scripture or any sort of academic analysis, as Cone himself admits (though he somehow twists to be justification as using human experience as proof.) His viewpoints on oppressed people and how they are justified before God simply because of their status as oppressed is totally contrary to the gospel and what Jesus revealed about his purpose. "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ's, then you are Abraham's offspring, heirs according to promise." ~Galatians 3:28. It has been clearly revealed that Jesus came to save ANYONE who would believe he was the Messiah. There are no "favorites", if you will, designated by class, race or sex. Cone believes that a people's status as oppressed or oppressor is immutable, even across generations, which is frankly a ridiculous claim. According to this belief, once a group qualifies as oppressed, they get God's favor and are deemed righteous forever, which is how he views his place as a Black American. And as a "white" person (and really, what is that? just like black and brown can be from so many different backgrounds?) , my way to be forgiven or justified by God is very narrow, because I am of the oppressor group, so I'm pretty much, well, going to hell.
I'll end my review by just saying that this way of seeing God's character and personhood is dangerous, and seems to only lead to bitterness and pride. There are, of course, ways that the Church has failed to provide for and lift up the poor and needy, and as Christians we should be in prayer seeking the Spirit's guidance in where we may serve those hurting. But this kind of theology that Cone holds up as the way to salvation is a counterfeit and ugly representation of God's redemption story. This kind of theology further divides and causes harm to God's people. The following are quotes by Jon Harris, from his book "Christianity & Social Justice", that I found to be relevant to standpoint epistemology in particular.
"If people first need to possess knowledge exclusively based on external factors, such as nationality and gender, in order to understand God's world and word, revelation is no longer clear and efficient."
"The political advantage in harnessing oppressed perspectives, instead of appealing to science, logic and evidence, is that most people think it impolite to contradict a personal story. This means social justice advocates can circumvent reasonable debate while shaming their opposition for alleged personal prejudice."
"Throughout the Bible, there are numerous examples of people learning from others based upon their wisdom, virtue and authority. Yet, lived experience resulting from social location is never presented as the basis for any of these qualities."
I'm on a liberation theology binge now. I'm sorry for bringing up school into every single review I type out now, but I am legitimately going to study it beyond surface level for a project I'm doing at the end of the semester and I'm very glad that I've finally gotten around to reading the theories that I preach. About a month ago, I read The Cross and the Lynching Tree, which was another work of James Cone centered on black Christianity; however, the book was more historical than theological, and though I'm not as well versed in theology as I delude myself into thinking I am, I wanted to read more of Cone's theological reasoning on the Gospel. And, thus, I borrowed this book.
I won't go on too much about God of the Oppressed, because I'm not black. I am extremely unfamiliar with black culture, and I don't plan on visiting the United States or any other place I could encounter it any time soon. But I will tell you one thing: I'm incredibly glad I read it. I've always been a big advocate for reinterpreting Scripture in a light that brings back attention to God's active role in liberation, and for minorities reclaiming a religion that has often been used to oppress them, but I've had so many foggy areas of my perception of liberation theology cleared up because of Cone.
This was an incredibly valuable book to read. It's helped me understand some aspects of the racial oppression present in American society that I've only heard about thanks to the Internet, which I'm very grateful for, and it's made me understand just what exactly about the Gospel is so liberating and how black folks and other minorities can reclaim the Bible for their own means. Everything Cone said here was relevant to me both as a student of literary interpretation and as a guy growing in my faith and learning the political implications of working for the Kingdom of God, and as uncomfortable as the harsh realities in God of the Oppressed may be, it was necessary for me to read. Cone is probably way outside the horizon of most people's theological imaginations, which is why people dismiss him as being a heretic, but he's no Arius for emphasizing God's concern for the weak.
I only wish there was a book for trans theology in the same way as God of the Oppressed is a seminal introduction to black theology, but this is a must-read for everybody of faith, and everybody concerned with the white, Christian framework much of the West uses to lead the lambs of God to slaughter; it states very important things about theology and how we do it, and it gives us very clear instructions on how to go forward. It's not exactly a book written for everybody, but it's a book that so many people need to hear about. If I, some random Filipino guy, view it as a part of a major turning point in my theological journey, then there's no reason why anybody interested in theology who claims not to comply to the powers of racism in the world should not pick it up.
Where there were a lot of good points and perspectives, the premise was nothing more than anti-white rhetoric and propaganda. The author is just as guilty of perpetuating racism as the "white Christians" he is opposing. I took many notes on the false teachings, misinterpretations and biased accusations made by the author. The collection of these abbreviated observations would fill a course guide. To address this book successfully and thoroughly, I would have to write a book of my own. I have no interest in doing so. I would like to leave all who have read this book and either liked or loved it with some food for thought, consideration and recommendation. Reading Manning Johnson's "Color, Communism and Common Sense" before reading this book gives some great perspective on what drove this author to create such a work. I would also like to point out that the interpretation for the liberation of the oppressed is not about race, wealth, social or political standing. The meaning for the liberation of the oppressed was the liberation from sin not from servitude. I know the author hit on this briefly, but ignored the facts that Jesus was not hanging out with the financially poor or the slaves. Jesus dined with bankers and tax collectors. Jesus liberated the poor in spirit. Jesus freed those who were oppressed by sin and demonic possession. I recommend you leave your bias aside and read your Bible with a clear and open mind. If you read the scriptures with prejudice in your heart, you have already missed the message. Although very educated, the author wrote a very flawed and misguided book. If you believe that there is such a thing as "black theology" and "white theology", try reading this book from the "white perspective". If you can't or won't do it, your nothing more than the hypocrite that you accuse the "white Christians" of being. God bless. 🙏✝️
This book is brilliant. It is often referred to as a systematic presentation of Black liberation theology and I can't agree more. Cone carefully builds up an argument for an understanding of God as a God of the Oppressed. This influences every aspect of theology. However, his theology seems to place a particular emphasis on epistemology, Christology, and eschatology. One critique I've heard regarding his theology is the narrowness that his writing treats theology. I think this critique paradoxically both misrepresents his theology while also pointing to some of the shortcomings of his theology. In terms of the accuracy of the critique, Cone has come into a lot of criticism from womanist theologians for not taking care to understand the struggle of black women. In this sense, his theology can often fail to note the intersectional nature of oppression. I think this shortcoming appears most clearly in his ethics and possibly his Christology (though both aspects have a lot to commend themselves). Where I think the criticism misses the mark is that Cone's dialectic leaves open the theological imagination to a more intersectional understanding of oppression, which I think is apparent in his epistemology.
But his work on theological epistemology, Christology, and eschatology alone make this book an important read. He presents a revolutionary approach that makes his ethics compelling and challenges Christians to re-evaluate their theological and ethical priorities. Finally, I think he puts in a lot of leg work to rehabilitate the image of black religiosity from caricatures of pie-in-the-sky wishful thinking. From a religious studies standpoint that is well worth the time of reading this book.