A Black Theology of Liberation

by James H. Cone

"Any message that is not related to the liberation of the poor in a society is not Christ's message. Any theology that is indifferent to the theme of liberation is not Christian theology."

With the publication of his two early works, Black Theology & Black Power (1969) and A Black Theology of Liberation (1970), James Cone emerged as one of the most creative and provocative theological voices in North America. These books, which offered a searing indictment of white theology and society, introduced a radical reappraisal of the Christian message for our time.

Here, combining the visions of Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, Jr., Cone radically reappraises Christianity from the perspective of the oppressed black community in North America. Forty years later after its first publication, his work retains its original power, enhanced now by reflections on the evolution of his own thinking and of black theology and on the needs of the present moment.

Offers a radical reappraisal of Christianity from the perspective of an oppressed Black North American community.

Genres: Theology, Religion, Christianity, Race, Nonfiction, Spirituality, Social Justice

214 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1970

About the author

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.

Reviews

[Tim · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was the first book I picked up after the Trump win. It’s helped me immensely these past few weeks in trying to articulate some of the internal struggles I’ve been having with this election and the glaring issues that have become much more “visible” (at least to some). Along with that though is a realization that my approach to situations is more – nuanced? – than what it would have been when I first read Cone nearly five years ago. I find myself legitimately trying to see different sides to various issues vs. holding certain concrete convictions. Part of that has come from spending a number of years in the Middle East and realizing that local situations are much more complex than they can appear from a distance. I’m not always successful at this of course, but I recognize the need to attempt this kind of thinking.

But there are some things that leave no room for compromise and nobody is better than Cone at analyzing this need (both then and now) in America. There are three main takeaways that struck me this time around:

- God is always on the side of the oppressed. This is not from a desire to eventually become the oppressor as some have criticized these kinds of theologies, but simply to eliminate oppression.

- “Blackness” is a state of mind and orientation as much as it is a skin color. We all can participate in these kinds of theologies and ways of life depending on whether we are able/willing to fully commit to the stance for justice that is required.

- Liberation theologies don’t claim to have all the answers, and are commendably open to criticism. This is not to suggest for a second that the criticism can come from the oppressors, but from other overlooked oppressed groups. (The example in this anniversary edition was the original’s lack of inclusion of feminist/womanist ideas.) If one is oppressed, all are oppressed.

I’m just now starting to process what the next few years will mean and how I’m to effectively respond as a white American who is concerned for the future of the country. One thing we can say is that Trump’s election has brought a lot of ugly sickness back out in the open. This is likely not true for certain segments of the population as they’ve felt it all along, but certainly for many white people. The language is out in the open. Racism and discrimination can’t be denied. I think personally my struggle is not so much to have definite convictions against injustice as it is to find the most effective strategies to change things. How do you talk to people or act in a way that will change minds and attitudes without compromising or changing one’s effective stance against issues of racism and discrimination? I hope more people read this book. It might have more relevance today than it ever did before. If God and Jesus stood with the poor and subjugated of society, then this kind of thinking is true Christianity.

[Tim Combes · Rating 5 out of 5]

Probably the only meaningful work of theology I've ever read.

Theology was a defining concept of my time as a practicing Christian. There was a time when the differences between Calvinists and Arminians actually felt important. There was a time when I felt like the Bible had one interpretation and I needed to find it.

After leaving the church, it all started to seem really silly. While I still staunchly think Calvinisn is a giant stinky turd of a philosophy, I no longer think Arminianism is much better. And debating the finer points of either seemed like polishing glassware on the Titanic.

So I approached James Cone with an expectation to agree with much of what he said, but without any real expectation for it to impact my spiritual operating system in any real sense. But rather I found in the later chapters the most compelling definition of the gospel and what it could mean to be a Christian that I have encountered thus far in my life.

I was prepared to give this book 4 stars while reading the first four chapters. I appreciated his reasoning and his passion, but was pretty lost about what he was talking about. Cone spends these chapters laying the foundation for his real message, which for fellow theologians was probably necessary, but for a layman like myself was pretty hard to keep up with.

It was when I reached Chapter 5: The Human in Black Theology, that Cone really started to preach to me. "Being human means being against evil by joining sides with those who are the victims of evil. Quite literally it means becoming oppressed with the oppressed, making their cause one's own cause by involving oneself in the liberation struggle. No one is free until all are free."

He goes on to reorient concepts such as sin, freedom, and salvation under the light of a Jesus who is not for all, but for the oppressed.

If this is to be believed, than that confirms my suspicions that my time leading Young Life was tantamount to pissing in the ocean. I was not doing the work of the lord; I was circle jerking how pious I was with a bunch of other whites and feeling like shit every time I touched my wiener. What a waste of four years doing nothing for the real kingdom!

If I were to believe again, Cone would be a foundational teacher in my theological center.

[Cody · Rating 2 out of 5]

James Cone is considered to be the founder of Black Liberation Theology, a variant of the Liberation Theology movement most widely connected with South American theologian Gustavo Gutierrez. Liberation Theology emphasizes those biblical concerns that white European flavored Christianity has often looked over– concerns like justice and liberation for the oppressed and downtrodden (Luke 4:16-21, Matthew 25:31-45, etc.). Though these emphases are quite important, in Liberation movements, they can often drown out other, extremely vital, elements of the Christian faith, as they clearly do in Cone’s Black Liberation Theology.

One major issue for Cone is one of authority. The experience of one group of people (the oppressed) becomes equivalent with universal truth, and not simply an important concern in Christian theology. In other words, Cone makes his own experience the judge of who God is and what God is for. While “white” (a term used by Cone not so much to reflect skin color but an oppressor mentality) Christianity commits this grave error without realizing it, Cone does so with full knowledge. So, for instance, while a conservative “white” theologian would say that his own views and actions *should* be directed by the scripture (whether or not he does in fact direct them by this standard), Cone makes the judgement of the oppressed black community the ultimate truth for them– and if mass violence against whites is decided by the group as the best means to effect their liberation, so be it. Cone explicitly distances himself from the approach of King, identifying more with the violence-prone philosophy of the Nation of Islam as propounded by Malcolm X. If someone criticizes his approach, he seems to assume that they’re doing so as a “white” oppressor and should be ignored– an oppressor has no moral right to question the rightness or wrongness of the actions of the people he is oppressing. This of course ignores the criticisms of violence, even from the oppressed, of black Christians like Martin Luther King Jr., Desmond Tutu, etc. Cone is also unfortunately either unfamiliar with or unconvinced by pacifist Christian claims to be committed to peaceful action, since he equates non-violence with inaction and acquiescence. While he is absolutely correct in seeing liberation as an important theme in the Christian faith, he, like “white” religionists, allows his own experience and emotions to determine what is right and wrong to the point of supporting evil in the interest of what he feels is best for his community. However, what can’t be said of Cone’s position on violence is that it is radical, because it is emphatically not. The political heroes of most white Americans are men who used violence to gain political autonomy. Thus, it is not radical for black men and women to look up to figures like Malcolm X and James Cone who advocate doing the same thing if it seems necessary for freedom and self-determination; it is merely status quo. The problem is that Jesus calls all men and women, regardless of color, to rise above the status quo and the myth of redemptive violence.

Seizing on that point, one major problem with Cone’s view of violent revolution is that when oppressed people rise up through violence, they become the oppressor– co-opting the tools of oppression and dehumanization. “Blacks” become “white” through the use of violence. Cone seems unaware of (doubtful) or unaffected by the history of the Bolshevik, Cuban, or French revolutions, wherein the oppressed quickly became the oppressors and became twofold more a child of hell than their oppressors. His view also reshapes Nat Turner, the slave who claimed to have been directed by God to murder white women and children, into an unqualified hero. Cone’s system re-establishes and re-affirms oppression– it does not end it.

For Cone, God is black and the devil is white, because God supports the oppressed and the devil supports the oppressor. But in so closely identifying God with blackness, the actions of those in the black community are now above being questioned, just like the actions of white enslavers were, according to them, above being questioned because they aligned themselves with God and those whom they oppressed with the devil.

What Cone is really trying to get at is that since Jesus supports the cause of the oppressed, the oppressor must so distance himself from his oppressor identity that he becomes indistinguishable from the oppressed– willing to suffer along with them– if he is to be Christ-like. In other words, the “white” must become “black.” Cone says that God can’t be colorless where people suffer for their color. So, where blacks suffer God is black. Taking this logic, which is indeed rooted in Scripture, where the poor suffer, God is poor. Where babies are killed in the womb, God is an aborted baby. Where gay people are bullied, God is gay. It is our obligation to identify with the downtrodden, because that’s what Jesus did. Paul, quoting a hymn of the church about Jesus, puts it this way:
“In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:
‘Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross!'”
–Philippians 2:5-8

Jesus not only gives up his power to express love to the powerless by identifying with them, He also takes on their sin and suffers with and for them. This is the essence of the gospel, and it often gets lost when we translate it into our daily lives. For Cone, this important truth gets lost in the banner of black militantism and the cycle of violence. For so many American Christians, it gets lost when they reduce the political nature of Christianity to scolding those whose private expression of morality doesn’t line up with theirs. We refuse to identify with sinners (which is a category we all fit into) in love.

[Julio The Fox · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Christ on the Cross is every minority, rebel, and outcast who has ever been mistreated. Christ rises through us, taking up his mantle of good news of "deliverance to the captives". Reverend James Cone is the voice of the ghetto, ship yard, housing project and unemployment line. Either Jesus is for us, a living symbol of living faith, or Christianity is bankrupt. A sin such as racism can and is institutionalized. So are poverty, exclusion, prejudice and every form of hatred. To be a Christian is to transform the world the way He did. This last edition of A BLACK THEOLOGY OF LIBERATION, completed just before Rev. Cone's death, contains revised passages on female and gay liberation. On homosexuality and the reaction of his many of his fellow clergy: "Love the sinner and hate the sin? Jesus never said that!" You do not have to share Rev. Cone's Christianity, or any religion, to listen to this timeless Jeremiad.

[Ryan Ward · Rating 5 out of 5]

Incendiary. Cone pulls no punches. His thesis is that a theology that doesn't deal directly with white oppression of blacks in America is not a theology worth considering. A God who doesn't stand with and for oppressed blacks against white oppressors must be killed. A Jesus who is not black and for black liberation is not Christ.

Cone refuses to accept theology as a strictly academic discipline, arguing at every step that the only measure of worth for a black theology is whether it dismantles racist societal and political structures and frees blacks from oppression by whatever means necessary. The tone of this work is angry, and rightfully so. Cone systematically dismantles traditional theology for its white supremacist worldviews, and builds his theology from the ground up, refusing to accept criticism from white theologians. His writing is aflame with righteous fire, his theology clearly explicated. Racism is his main concern, and for him, a theology that doesn't deal substantively with the very real problem and effects of racism in black lives is not Christian. He has been criticized for shallow theology, among other issues, most of which he addresses in the preface to this new edition, some 20 years after the initial publication. This edition also has commentaries by some leading theologians as to the ongoing significance, challenges, and opportunities of black theology and Cone's original ideas. This book serves more as a shot across the bow than as a deep and nuanced theological exploration. But what a shot!

Confronting and uncomfortable, but less so for Cone's merciless evisceration of racism and white Christian enabling than for the ugly mirror it holds up to society, Christianity, and white oppression.

[M Christopher · Rating 4 out of 5]

A highly influential work of Black Theology and precursor to the better known Latin American Theology of Liberation movement. Cone was still a very young and very angry man when he initially wrote this classic in 1969 and it shows. This Twentieth Anniversary Edition includes both a preface written in 1986 and an afterword written in 1990. In the preface, Cone moderates some of his more inflammatory language as regards White Christians in relationship with Black Christians but, rightly, maintains his insistence that theology must take account of the oppressed if it is to be at all true. In the afterword, he reflects upon the input from six theologians, Black, White, Asian, and Latino, who had likewise reflected upon the original work. Here, he admits his ongoing failure to take appropriate note of sexism but argues for the equality of importance of racism, sexism, and classism in evaluating theology.

"Angry young man" rhetoric aside, this is a clear and compelling look at how theology functions in the real world. Every Christian theologian, regardless of nationality, race, gender, or class, owes Cone a debt of gratitude in setting this high bar for how to join theology and ethic. I believe I will refer back to this work in the future as the struggle for justice continues all over the world. I believe that preaching must address the issues held up by Cone. If Christians are not engaged in making the world better for the oppressed, we are far from the path of Jesus.

[Harrison Adams]

I don't know how to rate this book. I need more time to digest it. It advocates for political violence in the name of Christ and is unnecessarily alienating -- dehumanizing, even, of wide swaths of Christianity. On one level, it seems that these ideas simply do not deserve my respect or attention. The tone, too, is hateful through and through. Is it ever acceptable for a Christian to speak about people like this? Maybe, I guess, but that would be difficult for me to accept. However, as Cone points out, God does not hesitate to call out evil and take a stance against it.

I did pull some good things out of the book. It’s helping me learn a new language of discourse, and one that continues to have a lot of power in our society. Once I'm more conversant, maybe I'll be able to engage with the ideas better without being so offended.

For now, I can't quite get over his equating of the authority of scripture and the experience of the black community, his idea that non-violence is a racist theology devised to uphold systems of oppression, his rejection of theology not immediately concerned with the same subjects as he is as unchristian, etc. I need to have a few conversations with friends who may see things differently, and at the very least, I might profit from this book through increased empathy.

[Daniel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Where do I start? This is a book I've needed in my life and I am angry at myself for not seeking this out 20 years ago. It is necessary at this point in my life and for that I give thanks.

Cone's work is terrifying and beautiful. It grates at me at times because I need to check my "whiteness". It is beautiful to the point of making me weep. To be the Church is to set the captive free. That is so much more than "saving their soul." It is to work toward liberation and always have our eyes on those needing to be set free.

It is also to oppose the systems of injustice.

Cone does not let up the entire way through this book. The only gospel is a "black gospel" and that is the gospel that will truly set people free.

Enough of sitting comfortably and wondering if God actually exists! Enough of my white angst because I didn't understand something at church, or I am mad they didn't meet MY needs! Enough!

It is time to believe the gospel and work to set people free. It is time to believe the gospel and set my face against oppressive systems. I am grateful for this work of James Cone.

[Deborah Brunt · Rating 5 out of 5]

It has been a month since I picked up this book and started to read. It has weighed heavily on my heart. So heavily. Cone with laser-pointed clarity defines Jesus and Christian theology from his lived experience of black oppression. He passionately and courageously speaks out against oppression. It induces an awful struggle within me. The struggle of this inherited world, the inherited narratives, the struggle in my own body and mind between the indigenous colonised and the white supremacist Christian oppressive coloniser.

It’s an overwhelming book. You cannot read it without being profoundly moved. It fills me with both the shame and hope that is humanity. A necessary and important work in liberation theology.

[Bracey · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’ve had a longing to understand how the beliefs of BLM, the Black church in America, and Black Liberation Theology all intersected. In James Cone’s Black Liberation Theology (The Fortieth Anniversary Edition) I encountered a black approach to the Liberation Theology which to me was made popular originally in South America by Gustavo Gutierrez. My understanding of Liberation Theology stems from the fact that I was born in Chile and experienced the attempts there to see this theological prism imposed upon the faithful. The spectrum desired by Liberation Theologians to be lived out by South American Christians was for the Bible to show them that their white European Christian counterparts had vastly obscured key issues such as social justice, exploitation, and liberation of the poor and oppressed. Though the Scriptures address and deal with the poor in many places, for example (Luke 4:16-21, Matthew 25:31-45, etc.,) Liberation Theology seeks to provide an answer as to how to remedy the issue of oppression, exploitation and poverty. As I said, though the poor have always had a pivotal place in the Scriptures, in Liberation movements, these points are often drowned out and important elements of the Christian faith are deemphasized. This is especially true as the new approach is intertwined with Marxism.

In A Black Theology of Liberation, Cone makes it clear that God is always on the side of the blacks who are oppressed. This is because ‘true’ theology is never to be interpreted outside of the context of one’s (in this case black folks) community. “This is so because God is revealed in Jesus as a God whose righteousness is inseparable from the weak and helpless in human society. The goal of black theology is to interpret God’s activity as related to the oppressed black community.” Pg. 5. So as we learn that Israel was oppressed during the Egyptian captivity, the plight of the black community can also be seen through a similar lens of oppression and liberation. Cone says that this is the way God is introduced to use in the Scriptures, “God is revealed as the God of the oppressed, involved in their history, liberating them from human bondage.” Pg. 2.

Cone is also quick to reject a variety of approaches to theology. For example a white approach to doing theology is anathema to Cone. He says, “In passing, it may be worthwhile to point out that whites are in no position whatever to question the legitimacy of black theology. Questions like ‘Do you think theology is black?’ or ‘What about others who suffer?’ are the product of minds incapable of black thinking. It is not surprising that those who reject blackness in theology are usually whites who do not question the blue-eyed white Christ.” Pg. 8. Cone goes on to make a clear delineation of good and evil within the context of black and white people; “It is hard to believe that whites are worried about black theology on account of its alleged alienation of other sufferers. Oppressors are not genuinely concerned about any oppressed group. It would seem rather that white rejection of black theology stems from a recognition of the revolutionary implications in its very name: a reaction of whiteness, an unwillingness to live under it, and an identification of whiteness with evil and blackness with good.” Pg. 8-9.

The Calvinistic approach, according to Cone, is also unfit for black theology. The reason being is that truth for Cone is defined by the black experience which only a black person can live. Truth in this sense is subjective! Note what Cone says regarding truth: “In the struggle for truth in a revolutionary age, there can be no principles of truth, no absolutes, not even God. For we realize that, though the reality of God must be the presupposition of theology (the very name implies this – theos and logos), we cannot speak of God at the expense of the oppressed.” Pg. 19. Again, in keeping with the subjective and relativistic ethical basis of black theology, Cone says; “we can say that the definition of truth for the black thinker arises from a passionate encounter with black reality. Though that truth may be described religiously as God, it is not the God of white religion but the God of black existence. There is no way to speak of this objectively; truth is not objective. It is subjective, a personal experience of the ultimate in the midst of degradation. Passion is the only appropriate response to this truth.” Pg. 21. One wonders, given Cone’s relativistic definition of truth, if it (truth) is subjective then anything he says is rendered meaningless because it can change at any moment. Without objective truth nothing can be really true and this assertion is simply impossible. The only things that becomes true is what you assert and this can be done in a variety of ways, especially through force backed by one’s experience. Perhaps if Cone wishes to be consistent he must say, ‘nothing is objectively true – including my own relativistic position. So you are free to accept my view or reject it.’ Cone’s ethical relativism misses on a crucial test of internal consistency. The idea that ‘something can be true for one person but false for another’ fails to meet its own criterion for truth. Think about it, if while a worldview can be intelligibly and logically consistent yet still be false, no worldview can be true if it contradicts itself and this is precisely where Cone is headed right from the onset.

Cone is not done with Calvin but alludes to three evils that are problematic for blacks, “Other Protestant reformers, especially Calvin and Wesley, did little to make Christianity a religion for the politically oppressed in society. Though no one can be responsible for everything that is done in their name, one may be suspicious of the easy affinity among Calvinism, capitalism, and slave trading.” Pg. 35. Cone’s definition of truth runs contrary to what Calvin teaches regarding truth. John Calvin in his commentary on Titus, says that “All truth is from God; and consequently, if wicked men have said anything that is true and just, we ought not to reject it; for it has come from God. Besides, all things are of God; and, therefore, why should it not be lawful to dedicate to his glory everything that can properly be employed for such a purpose?” (See Calvin’s Commentaries on – Titus 1:12) Calvin asserts a similar idea in his Institutes, “Therefore, in reading profane authors, the admirable light of truth displayed in them should remind us, that the human mind, however much fallen and perverted from its original integrity, is still adorned and invested with admirable gifts from its Creator. If we reflect that the Spirit of God is the only fountain of truth, we will be careful, as we would avoid offering insult to him, not to reject or condemn truth wherever it appears. (II.2.15).” Calvin’s statement is consistent with all ‘Calvinistic’ and reformed theology because if something is true, it is because it is something that has been revealed by God, or because it is an accurate understanding of the nature of something created by God, or because it is an accurate description of something decreed by God. In other words, a God-centered view of truth demands that we affirm that all truth is God’s truth. That which is true is true because God said it, created it, or decreed it. This is Calvin and Cone rejects this and much more which I can’t touch on because of the length of my review.

But Cone makes some interesting, and I’m being charitable, statements which led me to question a lot of what he said and make immediate conclusions about him and his beliefs. For starters, Cone is as racist as the white racists he excoriates. Why? Because he takes the same approach white racists have taken toward blacks. I’ll let Cone speak for himself, “Blacks know better. They know that whites have only one purpose: the destruction of everything which is not white.” P12. Cone goes on to say that Liberation theologies don’t claim to have all the answers and are open to criticism but insofar as the critiques don’t come from the oppressors, in other words, whites. “White racist theologians are in no position to criticize anything regarding black theology. “White racist theologians are in charge of defining the nature of the gospel and of the discipline for explicating it! How strange! They who are responsible for the evil of racism also want to tell its victims whether bigotry is a legitimate subject matter of systematic theology.” Pg. XVIII in Preface to the 1986 Edition. In this regard Cone is very clear in saying that the oppressor is the white man. Yes, if this comes across as racist, it’s because it is. Cone doesn’t seem to show a desire for forgiveness, redemption or reconciliation between blacks and whites.

When Cone discusses the implications of God in black theology in chapter four he does so through the prism of revolution, which leads me to say a few remarks that are worth noting. Cone says that “because whiteness by its very nature is against blackness, the black prophet is a prophet of national doom. He proclaims the end of the ‘American Way,’ for God has stirred the soul of the black community, and now that community will stop at nothing to claim the freedom that is three hundred and fifty years overdue. The black prophet is a rebel with a cause, the cause of over twenty-five million American blacks and all oppressed person everywhere.” Pg. 59. If somehow you are hearing Fight the Power, the lyrics of Public Enemy in your mind, it’s because they embody in their music the theology of black liberation and the unmistakable Malcolm X ethics of achieving the goal of the struggle ‘By any means necessary.’ Chuck D’s lyrics are inarguably a powerful Cone-ian statement, a manifesto for the reignition of a mass movement for the liberation of African-Americans and black power for the new generation.

Early on in this review I charged Cone with racism precisely because of his use of terms like “whitey,” which appear to be throughout the book and are in reality veiled calls to violence by blacks against whites. I’ve already mentioned that whites being the oppressor according to Cone are not in a moral position to critique the constructs of black theology. The standard, however, which I employ is the Scriptures themselves. If Cone asserts that there is no absolute truth as he does, and I propose using the revelation of God which is absolute we clash and it is precisely this ethic that Cone utilizes when at times he calls for violence. Cone says, “Christians must fight against evil, for not to fight, not to do everything they can to ease their neighbor’s pain, is to deny the resurrection.” Pg. 149. “To be a disciple of the black Christ is to become black with him. Looting, burning, or the destruction of white property are not primary concerns. Such matters can only be decided by the oppressed themselves who are seeking to develop their images of the black Christ….Nat Turner had no scruples on this issue; and blacks today are beginning to see themselves in a new image. We believe in the manifestation of the black Christ, and our encounter with him defines our values. This means that blacks are free to do what they have to in order to affirm their humanity.” Pg. 130. So if circumstances call for looting & burning to affirm black humanity, does everyone else (White, Latino, Hispanic, Asian, etc.) allow it to happen? Or do we just watch? Is this not violence? Did we not see this very violence throughout the cities of the US in 2020? I saw it and experienced it in person right here where I live in NYC. So how does one interpret these passages in Cone’s work? There is a clear call for black violence against whites. At times Cone seems seriously to endorse immediate violence, and at other times he seems to suggest that violence is more of a possibility than a necessity but a real option that cannot be left off the table. An astute observer of theology and the bible can see that there is a problem with this ‘endorsed’ violent revolution. The fact that it does not represent Christ at all should be telling because when oppressed people rise up through violence, they invariably become the oppressor. Do we need to visit what is currently happening in South Africa? Former oppressors, whites, are being killed and raped and destroyed. The oppressors are in essence grabbing the tools of oppression and dehumanization. Do we not hear these days that one time apologies are not enough? In fact, we now hear talk of reparations and redistribution of land, etc,. In essence, to use the imagery Cone utilizes, ‘blacks’ become ‘white’ through the use of violence. Perhaps one needs to ask Cone, if he is aware about the Bolshevik, Ottoman, Cuban, and / or French revolutions? If Cone is aware of them, as I believe he is, he did not did understand them, as he clearly doesn't understand Nat Turner-- turning him into some kind of saint. The irony in all of this is that a practical outworking of Cone's theology is one wherein it reestablishes and reaffirms the very oppression it seeks to denounce and destroy. Whatever one can say about Cone’s vision about oppression it is this, his black theology does not end oppression, it perpetuates it.

According to Cone, however, he does not see the flip side (that he perpetuates more oppression) of the thesis he posits. He only sees that the liberation of blacks is the goal of black theology and it is so not from a desire to eventually see backs become oppressors, as some have criticized, but solely because eliminating oppression is the gospel. Yes, you read that correctly! If you are coming from a conservative orthodox Christian perspective, Cone is redefining the meaning of the gospel. Romans 1:16 is no longer the gospel which is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes… In it (the gospel) the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith. In case you are saying to yourself that Cone seems like a revolutionary you would be right. In fact, he goes on to say that his, “style of doing theology was influenced more by Malcom X than by Martin Luther King, Jr.” Pg. XIX in Preface to the 1986 Edition.

I’ve been processing the black/white dynamic for many years now and I’ve lived in predominantly black neighborhoods and have seen injustices both against them by blacks/whites/Hispanics/Latinos and from them toward me (a Hispanic/Latino) and others including whites, Asians and others. What does this mean? Apart from the redemption I experienced in and through the person of Jesus I could not make sense of my own experience in a redemptive fashion. I have been the subject of brutal attacks, being ‘jumped’ by many blacks at one time, being called ‘a cracker’ or other racists names. Even though I was born in Latin America this still happened to me. Was I angry? You bet! But the same thing happened to me when I spent time in a predominantly white neighborhood. What did this te

[Luke Wagner · Rating 4 out of 5]

James Cone's magnum opus, "A Black Theology of Liberation," is required reading for anyone interested in African-American expressions of Christianity and theology. Written in the political, social, and cultural climate of the Black Power movement, following the important Civil Rights era, Cone lays down a systematic theology that focuses on race, liberation, and justice--specifically in how Christianity relates to the freedom struggle of Black persons in the U.S. In speaking of "a" Black theology, it seems to me that Cone leaves it open for other Black theologies and philosophies to speak to the situation of the mid-20th century and the current situation that we face today. In the same way that Martin, Malcolm, Hampton, and Baldwin all lent their respective voices to their contemporary struggle against racism in America, so Cone's voice should and must be included in that conversation then and the ongoing conversation today.

My fundamental disagreement with Cone lies in his "by any means necessary" approach to the freedom and liberation struggle. This, at times, leads Cone to inch closer and closer to sanctioning violence against oppressors. I find this to be quite at odds with the posture and mission of Jesus, whose non-violence and peace-making seem to be central to his ministry on behalf of the "oppressed of the land." Jesus' commitment to die for his enemies is not a wimpish response, nor an endorsement of the evil systems of the world. Rather, Jesus' death is the means by which God can restore all things and cast down "the ruler of this world" from his throne. God vindicates the self-sacrificial, enemy-loving, non-violent ministry of Jesus by raising him from the dead.

Yet, while I disagree with some of Cone's starting points and conclusions, I overwhelmingly applaud the task that he chose to take up. He did not allow his commitment to theology distance himself from the concrete struggles of the Black community, but actually sought to consider what the gospel could mean for the Black person living in America. For Cone, blackness is much more than skin tone and much more about identity as the "oppressed of the land." It is an existential reality; thus, Cone contends that Jesus himself was Black. Obviously, Jesus was Jewish by birth; by choosing to exist as a Jewish person under the dominance of the Roman Empire, however, Jesus chose to align himself closely with the "oppressed of the land." His message and mission were for the poor. Likewise, the Church's message and missions must be for the poor and the oppressed. If it is not, perhaps we have lost sight of the mission of Jesus and the in-breaking of the Kingdom of God.

[Grason Poling · Rating 4 out of 5]

(4.5/5)
A Black Theology of Liberation is a distillation of raw emotion and a tightly-developed theology. In compelling terms, Cone tells the Black Christian community to take the Gospel and life of Jesus specifically to heart with action. Their long-suffering, perpetuated by the implicit and explicit racism of white America and the particularly nagging silence and apathy of white Christians, is *exactly* why Jesus offers liberation.
Cone offers effectively no comfort for white readers, and to a greater degree, white Christian readers (for our stagnation is great). It’s a call to see all the depth of our clinging and to open our hands to what this new understanding of the gospel offers for us and to join in the liberation effort.

[Sean Watkins · Rating 4 out of 5]

Incredible read. Though 45 years old and definitely speaking to a heavy racially charged time, Dr. Cone affirms the Black (descendant of slave) experience in America with a prophetic voice. He brings new light in what the meaning and application of the gospel means for the least of these.
That the book still affirms--in some ways--the plight of Black people in America means there is still more to do...even 45 years later.

[Gage Fowlkes · Rating 1 out of 5]

*James Cone be like: yOuR rATiNG pRoVes mY pOinT*

Seriously though, this is one of the most hate filled things written in the name of Jesus I’ve ever read. Really giving 15th century Spain. I think it was historian Peter Brown who characterized Spain’s slide into the Inquisition as a persistent conflation of racial purity with theological purity. It’s like they say, history never repeats itself, but it frequently rhymes.

[Matthew Richey · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very interesting and insightful book from a very different context and arriving upon very different conclusions that my own. This book did help me understand a certain perspective much better and provided much to think about. If you decide to read it and are offended or upset by the first chapter or so, keep reading. His ideas deserve a hearing.

[George Trudeau · Rating 4 out of 5]

On one hand, I learned a lot from this book because it answered my questions from Cone's seminal work Black Theology and Black Power which leads me to give it a 4. On the other hand, the application of what Cone is proposing is so bad I want to give it a 2. BTBP was a wrecking ball of a book where he sets out to revolutionize the white theological power structure. This means that precision is not an expectation. In this book, Cone wants to sketch out his system more clearly. Does he succeed in providing a solution of white Christianity? No. The biggest issue for Cone is in trying to decolonize Christ in an effort to assert Christ's blackness, Cone adopts a European epistemology based on Bultmon, Barth, Brunner, Bonhoeffer, and others. Ironically, Cone's epistemology is fairly white.

Moreover, Cone is so fixated on white supremacy, he actually allows white supremacy to define his theology. I am reminded of James Baldwin's critique of the whiteness of Christianity in his book The Fire Next Time. Baldwin, in passing, remarked that the new testament was written by white men. In trying to protest white supremacy so much, it becomes the lens by which he saw the new testament which was actually written by first century, middle eastern Jews. Cone is cynical towards exegesis because whitey does it, he is cynical towards eschatology because whitey does it, and cynical toward a universal Christ because whitey does it. in adopting a strong theology of protest, he allows the thing he is protesting to define his worldview. I wish that Cone was take his cynicism to it's logical conclusion that European american academia is also part of the white power structure and that we need to recover the Christ of the first century to deal with our issues of race in America and throughout the post colonial world. Robert's liberation theology makes a point of highlighting black and global perspectives that actually gets to Jesus's heart for a global people.

Roberts comes at black Theology as a restoration project. Black people have been doing a distinctive theology that needs to be formalized. Cone's black Theology is a revolutionary project that seeks to deconstruct. For this reason I prefer Roberts because his system can actually stand on its own without a system to protest.

Last thing I'll say, is Cone's anthropology is defined too much by sin and the fallen state and not by God's original design. Someone like Roberts speaks of the need for a black Theology rooted in creation. Black is good because God is the creator of black skin. Freedom too is rooted in how God has designed us. In this sense, Roberts is going for the denotative definition of black. Cone equivocates the word black, sometimes means black skin but other times meaning the connotations associated with black. He also draws too much of a connection with black and oppression making sin and injustice something essential to being black rather than accidental due to the fall. By essentializing oppression, Cone also defines freedom as protest of oppression. Cone has set up a dualistic system where black is defined by what is against whiteness, salvation is protest from injustice, and any hope for correcting Christian theology must come from the European academic tradition. The dualism must coexist for it to stand.

[Kathryn · Rating 5 out of 5]

The version I read had an intro and post script to the various editions throughout the 50 years since it was first published and it was cool to see both the author and other scholars around responding over time to this book.

Its certainly not an easy read; it is full of very justified rage and condemnation. At points he quite literally calls whiteness evil, and says God must be for blackness and against whiteness. He also makes it abundantly clear that whiteness is a state, and calls white people to "become black" so obviously he isn't simply saying to be a person with white skin is to be evil. But there is still enough racism and white supremacy today that it's not hard to hear why he expreses what he does, much less imagining how much worse it was at the time of his writing.

To white Christians that have a hard time hearing messages like this one, consider Moses, the Israelite slaves, and the Egyptians. So when you find a statement you want to revolt against, reframe it and just consider, if you'd accept such a line about Pharoah and Egypt, knowing full well that God does not hate all Egypt for the rest of history. If you can find it in yourself to hear a line like God must have been for the Israelite and against the Egyptians (at the time) then take a vary hard look at why such a line about whites and blacks in this country makes you more uncomfortable.

[Lily Kennedy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Had to read this one slowly because of the depth of conviction I experienced from Cone's arguments.

This quote is a prime example: “According to black theology, it is blasphemy to say that God loves white oppressors unless that love is interpreted as God’s wrathful activity against them and everything that whiteness stands for in American society.” (70)

A Black Theology of Liberation is a gospel that is truly "good news" for blacks who have only known white Christians to weaponize their religion as a mechanism of oppression. Theology on the side of the oppressed has soul, hope, movement, fire, and passion, because Cone is convinced that "The kingdom of God is for the helpless, because they have no security in this world." (117)

His Eschatology is action-oriented: Christians speak of the future from the conviction that "the present reality of things cannot be God's intention for humanity" and thus, "eschatology is related to action and change." (139) Christians must do everything they can for their neighbor's pain, because not to do so is to deny the resurrection (140).

I conclude this book feeling equipped to continue to difficult work of learning to "hate whiteness" and "become black", because "to be a disciple of the black Christ is to become black with him" (123). Our God is not impartial, He is perfectly just, which means that He takes sides, and he is on the side of oppressed blacks.

[John Richardson · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm not certain that I was Rev. Dr. Cone's target audience, but somehow it speaks to me and hits me in all the ways he probably would have wanted it to hit a white man. He pulls few punches, he addresses just about every domain in systematic theology, and draws on a comprehensive array of sources to make this beautiful appeal for his community. It is, for good and ill, timely and just as relevant fifty plus years on.

[Jon · Rating 4 out of 5]

James H. Cone’s A Black Theology of Liberation shows how Christianity supports Black freedom and justice, emphasizing that God sides with the oppressed. Cone argues, "God’s liberation of the oppressed is the primary theme of Jesus’s gospel," making faith a call to action.

This book challenges readers to see religion as a tool for justice, not just personal salvation. Cone’s ideas are bold and thought-provoking, making you rethink the role of faith in fighting racism. His passion is clear, but the strong tone might feel overwhelming to some readers. Still, the message is vital: true faith should inspire change and dignity for everyone. For anyone interested in justice or theology, this is an inspiring and necessary read.

[Ethan · Rating 4 out of 5]

A black theology composed in 1970 in light of what the civil rights movement had and had not yet accomplished and in conversation with Continental theology.

The emphasis of said theology is liberation. The author understands everything in the Gospel and theology in terms of God's liberation of oppressed people. He understands the plight of the oppressed in terms of the Black experience. To this end he speaks of God as Black, Jesus as Black, and the people of God as having the Black experience.

One is supposed to strenuously make plain that one does not fully agree with Cone's theology. But Cone expects as much, especially from anyone of a European background. He would find such people too entrenched in their oppressor status to be able to fully understand or agree. In a later introduction he confesses his previous ignorance of the plight of other oppressed persons in different parts of the world and the need for their liberation.

So even Cone understands his work in a very specific context, and this is also borne out by his conversation with mid-century German Continental theology. It would have been interesting to see Cone engage with more of the "3rd wave" of Jesus studies, but his conversation with the theology of the day is still compelling.

So of course one will not entirely agree with Cone. But you should read him and grapple with what he is saying. You need to let him challenge you and cause great discomfort. Sure, attempting to dismiss parts of Scripture which do not align with the liberation project goes beyond what is seemly, but how many times have we suppressed the strong emphasis on liberation in Scripture? And so on with all of what Cone is doing.

Recommended for consideration.

[Matthew Stanley · Rating 4 out of 5]

In his 'A Black Theology of Liberation,' James Cone shows the relevance of the Gospel to the Black Community (and White Community!) in America (and, by extrapolation, the West as a whole). In this text, Cone wants us to see that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is expressed in the historical struggle of oppressed peoples for liberation. This is what the Gospel means in our current historical context. Cone wants to challenge the ways that we as whites have constructed a picture of Jesus and a narrative of God's activity in the world which fails to challenge instances of oppression and those structures of stability in our lives. I think it would be best to articulate the layers of Cone's thought by looking at various ways he wants to challenge the reader. I will comment on this later in the review, but I believe that Cone's work cannot always be read on "face-value." This means that, at times, Cone employs intentionally shocking language, forgoes nuance, and makes use of black slang in order to incite the reader to a reaction which will cause them to reflect.

(1) In this book, Cone seeks to challenge the flattened out picture of Jesus and His Kingdom that has dominated in American Christianity. For example, Cone says that God is not "for" everyone in the same sense. Particularly as Americans, we have an emphasis on equality and 'fairness' which causes us to emphasize the universality of Jesus' love. While Cone does not want to disregard the insight that Jesus' love is for all, he wants to recover the inherent nuance in Jesus' love. Jesus does not love oppressors and the oppressed equally. Jesus loves the oppressed by identifying with them and liberating them. Jesus loves the oppressors by judging them and calling them to repentance. Jesus' love to the white, according to Cone, is the call of the Kingdom to repent of one's acting in complicity with practices and structures of oppression. What was particularly illuminating for me is that this too constitutes liberation! The one who lives within a plastic world built on the backs of the oppression of others has succeeded only in oppressing themselves and enslaving themselves to their own idol. Thus, the freedom of the black is also the freedom of the white. But, for the white, this liberation will sting mightily because it will mean a loss of comfort and stability. As long as blacks continue to be trapped in their current situation, whites will continue to lead a vapid existence which relies on consumerism, political power, and inwardness to numb their emptiness. Only through the upset of the arrangement where whites define their existence as the powerful and righteous ones and blacks as the non-white, as the dangerous, the non-being, can both groups experience liberation.

(2) Cone wants us to see the numerous passages in the Old Testament which describe God's commitment to the poor and oppressed not as anomalous, ambiguous, or irrelevant today. Cone points to the Exodus as the primary event of salvation in the Old Testament (a fact attested to by the Psalms) and how this event expresses God's commitment to the enslaved and their liberation. Israel began as the single man Abraham, and then became an enslaved people group. God's commitment to them expressed itself in liberation. Then, when they were given the land to live in, God provided for the poor through the laws in the Torah. Throughout Israel's history, God continues to identify himself not simply as being for Israel, but as being for the poor and the oppressed of Israel. The kings, money lenders, land lords, and religious leaders came under fire from God because they used their power for their own advantage instead of for the benefit of others. It was on account of such behavior that God destroyed Israel and sent her into exile.

(3) Cone wants to remind us that Jesus was not white. Not historically and not theologically. For Cone, being black means being identified with the oppressed. It means to be entangled in the historical experience of suffering at the hands of another. By this metric then, Jesus is most certainly black. Jesus was born into a poor family in a backwater of Israel, an ethnic group who were ruled by an oppressive empire that taxed them heavily and stripped them of their national identity. This is the reality of who Jesus was and thus who Jesus is. Throughout his life, Jesus sided with the outcasts and marginalized of society and rebuked those who exercised their power in an abusive manner. Jesus did not preach a Gospel of 'love and acceptance,' he proclaimed the coming of the Kingdom of God, which includes both judgment and liberation.

(4) Because this is who Jesus was, Cone wants us to see that this is who he still is. Thus, Cone identifies the current struggle of blacks for freedom in this nation as a concrete manifestation of the Kingdom of God. Wherever there is oppression and their is a consequent struggle for freedom, God is on the side of the oppressed. He never sanctions or condones the activities of the oppressors. Cone rails against a blind 'Divine Providence' which simply serves to justify the way things are. "Well, that's what happened and this is how it is. It's the will of the Lord." No, the will of the Lord is the liberation of all people. That much is made clear in the person of Jesus Christ. That much is clear in Scripture, the place where God reveals His will to us. The Kingdom is not a force of stagnation which affirms the status quo, but rather the proclamation of the Kingdom of God is the most disruptive and radical reality in the world. Through a return to the words of Scripture and the historical reality of Jesus' ministry, Cone confronts us with ways that we have watered down the Gospel, used it as a tool to maintain power, or made it into an individualistic quietism that makes us feel good about ourselves while not actually doing anything.

There are many more insights in this text that are worthy of note. I do not intend to go into all of them here. I simply want to raise a critique which troubles me about Cone's work. While Cone does supply clarification in various places throughout the text, his work also lends itself to a very anthropological reading of religion. Cone himself confesses the deity of Christ, the historical reality of Jesus, the authority of the Scriptures, and the reality of God's coming Kingdom, but throughout the text he also employs language that lends itself to being twisted in the direction of God and religion simply being a useful postulate for to achieve societal goods. He speaks of Jesus' liberation as allowing the oppressed to see that their impulse for liberation is the same as Jesus' and that he is the power for them to achieve liberation "on their own terms." Throughout the text, Cone also speaks of how if God or Jesus aren't for the liberation of blacks, they are of no use and ought to be discard. My concern then is that, while he makes much of Jesus identification with the oppressed, he seems to overlook how Jesus coming to the oppressed is itself also an act of overturning and judgment. For instance, in the case of the Exodus, God was not the internal principle or hope which drove the Israelites on as they fought for liberty. No, God came in and crushed the Egyptians and brought about things His way. This liberation is in direct opposition to Moses' foolish attempt to free the people through killing the Egyptian taskmaster. Even in the Exodus, some Israelites did not make it out of Egypt because they did not obey God. On the evening of Passover, one had to obey the Lord in order to be passed over and not become an object of judgment. In the case of Jesus, yes, we absolutely have a Jesus who comes to the oppressed Jews, but he frees them through the weakness of the cross and explicitly repudiates his disciple's notions that he has come to free them through armed rebellion. Cone draws on images of armed rebellion throughout and encourages blacks to commit violence against whites. On the one hand, I do not want to disqualify such acts of violence outright because clearly (1) Jesus took violent action against oppressors and (2) white people have a history of taking violent action against their oppressors (that was the foundation of America, right?) and we hail that behavior as heroic. So, we should miss Cone's point that whites have appropriated to themselves violent tactics and have constructed a national mythos built on violent revolution, but I am also disturbed by Cone's overlooking the fact that Jesus' coming is not a simple identification with the oppressed, in the sense that Jesus embraces the terms of the oppressed. Jesus' coming is always a simultaneous judgment and liberation, such that even our notions of liberation may require judgment. We only get to resurrection life by passing through the bloody door of the cross, and that includes even the oppressed (the Israelites had to put blood on their doors too!). This does not justify white behavior and it does not excuse the status quo. It's simply the case that Cone overlooks ways in which the black community itself may be enslaved to their own peculiar sets of idols and sins which Jesus is asking them to give up too. I am not qualified to comment more extensively on those things, not being black myself. But, it seems obvious to me from Scripture that Jesus never unequivocally affirms any one particular group. Jesus doesn't get on our team; we get on Jesus' team. That always means dying to ourselves and giving something up. I don't know what that will look like for a black individual. But I know it needs to happen for everyone one of us as we approach the cross. More to Cone's point though, this book has helped me see what that dying to self and letting go might look like in my life. I highly recommend wrestling with this text. You will be confronted afresh with the reality of Jesus and the proclamation of his Gospel. You will be shaped to be a more effective disciple, and you will be SENT.

[Sarah Mullen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Honestly, had to read this for my big theological synopses paper assignment (lmk if you want a copy to read what I wrote lmao) but it was SO. FREAKING. GOOD. really harrowing reality check for anyone who (rightfully so) believes that God’s redemptive plan for the world is social justice oriented. JUST CAN’T SAY ENOUGH GOOD THINGS ABOUT IT.

[Adaugo Orma · Rating 5 out of 5]

Besides the Bible, the book is the closest physical representation of my own faith. As a Black woman who has often contemplated God in the context of Black suffering, liberation theology has been the only thing that reconciled this for me. Chapter 3 especially.
This is a book that, like the Bible, is meant to be reread and the looked at through the historical context it was written in. Cone recognizes in the prologue that his original work doesn't address the marginalization of other groups within the Black community, notably women. I appreciated this preface. I also appreciated that the jargon was kept to a minimum and that it felt like it was written for a Black audience.

[Jonny · Rating 5 out of 5]

Best book I've read in a long time. Incisive, sadly relevant, and crucial to listen to.

[Steven H · Rating 5 out of 5]

THE SUCCESSOR TO CONE’S “BLACK THEOLOGY & BLACK POWER”

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 original 1969 254-page hardcover edition.]

He wrote in the Preface of this 1970 book, “It is my contention that Christianity is essentially a religion of liberation. The function of theology is that of analyzing the meaning of that liberation for the oppressed community so they can know that their struggle for political, social, and economic justice is consistent with the gospel of Jesus Christ. Any message that is not related to the liberation of the poor in the society is not Christ’s message. Any theology that is indifferent to the theme of liberation is not Christian theology. In a society where men are oppressed because they are black, Christian theology must become Black Theology, a theology that is unreservedly identified with the goals of the oppressed community and seeking to interpret the divine character of their struggle for liberation…

“It will be evident, therefore, that this book is written primarily for the black community and not for white people. Whites may read it and to some degree render an intellectual analysis of it, but an authentic understanding is dependent on the blackness of their existence in the world. There will be no peace in America until white people begin to hate their whiteness, asking from the depths of their being” ‘How can we become black?’… until then, it is the task of the Christian theologian to do theology in the light of the concreteness of human oppression as expressed in color, and to interpret for the oppressed the meaning of God’s liberation in their community.” (Pg. 11-12)

He begins the first chapter with the statement, “Christian theology is a theology of liberation. It is a rational study of the being of God in the world in light of the existential situation of an oppressed community, relating the forces of liberation to the essence of the gospel, which is Jesus Christ. This means that its sole reason for existence is to put into ordered speech the meaning of God’s activity in the world, so that the community of the oppressed will recognize that their inner thrust for liberation is not only consistent with the gospel but IS the gospel of Jesus Christ. There can be no Christian theology which is not identified unreservedly with those who are humiliated and abused. In fact, theology ceases to be a theology of the gospel when it fails to arise out of the community of the oppressed… the God who revealed himself in Jesus Christ … is the God OF and FOR those who labor and are heavy laden.” (Pg. 17-18)

He explains, “The appearance of Black Theology on the American scene then is due exclusively to the failure of white religionists to relate the gospel of Jesus to the pain of being black in a white racist society. It arises from the need of black people to liberate themselves from white oppressors. Black Theology is a theology of liberation because it is a theology which arises from an identification with the oppressed blacks of America, seeking to interpret the gospel of Christ in the light of the black condition. It believes that the liberation of black people IS God’s liberation.” (Pg. 23)

He states, “Blackness… stands for all victims of oppression who realize that their humanity is inseparable from man’s liberation from whiteness… we may see blackness as the most adequate symbol for pointing to the dimensions of divine antiquity in America. And insofar as this country is seeking to make whiteness the dominating power throughout the world, whiteness is the symbol for the Antichrist… Black Theology seeks to analyze the satanic nature of whiteness and by doing so to prepare all nonwhites for revolutionary action.” (Pg. 28-29)

He observes, “That white America has issued the death warrant for being black is evident in the white brutality inflicted on black people. Though whites may pretend that it is not so, the… masters always pretend that they are not masters, insisting that they are only doing what is the best for the society as a whole, including the slaves. This is, of course, the standard rhetoric of an oppressive society. The blacks know better. They know that whites have only one purpose: the destruction of everything which is not white.” (Pg. 35)

He notes, “Black Theology rejects the tendency of classical Christianity to appeal to divine providence. To suggest that black suffering is consistent with the knowledge and will of God and that in the end everything will happen for the good of those who love God is unacceptable to black people. The eschatological promise of heaven is insufficient to account for the earthly pain of black suffering. We cannot accept a God who inflicts or tolerates black suffering for some inscrutable purpose.” (Pg. 44) Later, he adds, “It is not that Black Theology denies the importance of God’s revelation in Christ; but black people want to know what Christ means when they are confronted with the brutality of white racism.” (Pg. 54) He concludes, “Black Theology is only concerned with that tradition of Christianity which is usable in the black liberation struggle.” (Pg. 74)

He says, “For too long Christ has been portrayed as a blue-eyed honky. Black theologians are right: we need to dehonkify him and thus make him relevant to the black condition.” (Pg. 61) Later, he adds, “The norm of Black Theology, which identifies revelation as a manifestation of the Black Christ, says that he is those very black men whom white society shoots and kills. The contemporary Christ is in the black ghetto, making decisions about white existence and black liberation.” (Pg. 80)

He argues, “That the God-language of white religion has been used to create a docile spirit among black people while whites aggressively attacked them is beyond question. But that does not mean that we cannot kill the white God, so that the God of black people can make his presence known in the black-white encounter. The white God is an idol… and we black people must perform the iconoclastic task of smashing false images.” (Pg. 114)

He observes, “In contrast to this racist view of God, Black Theology proclaims his blackness. People who want to know what God it and what he is doing must know who black people are and what they are doing. This does not mean lending a helping hand to the poor and unfortunate blacks of the society. It does not mean joining the war on poverty! Such acts are sin offerings that represent a white way of assuring themselves that they are basically a ‘good’ people. Knowing God means being on the side of the oppressed, become ONE with them and participating in the goal of liberation. We must become black with God!” (Pg. 124)

He summarizes, “As pointed out in the previous chapter, God is black. Secondly, Black theology is suspicious of people who appeal to a universal, ideal humanity. The oppressors are ardent lovers of humanity.” (Pg. 156) Later, he adds, “What need have we for a white Christ when we are not white but black? If Christ is white and not black, he is an oppressor, and we must kill him. The appearance of Black Theology means that the black community is now ready to do something about the white Christ, so that he cannot get in the way of our revolution.” (Pg. 199) He notes, “The kingdom of God is a BLACK happening. It is black people saying No to [whites], retreating into caucuses and advancing into white confrontation.” (Pg. 220)

He states, “In a society that defines blackness as evil and whiteness as good, the theological significance of Jesus is found in the possibility of human liberation through blackness. Jesus is the Black Christ!” (Pg. 215) He continues, “But some whites will ask, Does Black Theology believe that Christ was REALLY black? It seems to me that the LITERAL color of Jesus is irrelevant, as are the different shades of blackness in America… ‘Light’ blacks are oppressed just as much as ‘black’ blacks. But as it happens, [Jesus] was not white in any sense of the word, literally or theologically. Therefore, the Reverend Cleage is not too far wrong when he describes Jesus as a black Jew; and he is certainly on solid theological grounds when he describes him as the Black Messiah.” (Pg. 218)

He laments, “Unfortunately black churches are also guilty of prostituting the name of God’s church. Having originally come into being because they knew that political involvement in societal liberation of black people was equivalent with the gospel, it is a sad fact that they all but lost their reason for being in subsequent decades… the black denominational churches seem to be content with things as they are, getting fat off their brothers’ misery… the black churches satisfy themselves with white solutions to earthly injustice. That is why people interested in justice in this world so often scorn the black church, saying that it is only a second-rate oppressor.” (Pg. 236-237)

He concludes, “With this view, heaven is no longer analyzed the way it used to be. Heaven cannot mean accepting injustice of the present because we know we have a home over yonder. Home is where we have been placed NOW, and to believe in heaven is to refuse to accept hell on earth. This is one dimension of the future that cannot be sacrificed.” (Pg. 247)

The book is definitely one of the “must read” books for anyone seriously studying Black Theology.

[Kelly Sauskojus · Rating 5 out of 5]

hard to imagine that this won't be the greatest and most transformative work of theology I read this year

[Matt McCullough · Rating 4 out of 5]

Even in 2021, still one of the great texts on theology, even though I haven't read that many. Some of the language may seem hard to digest, especially if you're not a theologian. The essays included in the book highlight some of the evolution of Dr. Cone's thoughts and the broad impact of his work. Definitely a must read.

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

By spring of 1969, James Cone had two substantial works under his belt: a dissertation on Karl Barth, and the mad-as-hell instant classic Black Theology and Black Power. This book, written that summer, represents Cone's first attempt to combine both those threads of his training and interest. The result is a very distinct work from BTBP: Cone has lost none of his fire, but has organized its expression around reference to the state of the art in mid-twentieth-century European Protestant theology. Its straightforward march through the doctrines and ticking off of the big German names might be stereotypical if the stakes were any lower. As it stands, BToL has a logic all its own, standing as a true Barthian counterpart to the Karl Rahner-isms of A Theology of Liberation.

Those theological points of reference, with a few exceptions, have gone out of fashion enough to leave this book feeling somewhat dated. If BTBP feels dated today, by contrast, it is because White America has succeeded in forgetting the Watts and Detroit and Newark riots, for which we should hardly be proud. Cone's liberal heritage is nevertheless inseparable from his considerable achievement here. Take his ontological account of symbolic or spiritual blackness. To define blackness by skin color, for Cone's purposes, is obviously impossible, given the long social history of plantation rape, intermarriage, and one-drop laws. The dichotomy between Black and White, in Cone, only weakly describes bodies: More strictly, it describes identification with and existential struggle alongside the oppressed, poor, and marginalized. The abstraction of bodies into ethical states is a classic liberal move, but here repurposed for radicals.

My slightly lower rating for this book than for BTBP reflects less on its objective merits (the two really form one thought) than on the earlier book's uniquely shattering impact. I know several people whose conversion was effected through BTBP; this one lacks that distinction. But if this book did change your life, please let me know. I'd love to hear those stories.

[Maxwell Stewart · Rating 5 out of 5]

James H. Cone asks a lot of his readership in this monumental book. Not because he writes densely or makes his theological interpretations inaccessible to non-academics. In fact, this book is such a challenge to readers for quite the opposite reason: it plainly demands that as Christians, especially White Christians, we interrogate, deny, and shed the powers and privileges of Whiteness in order to fulfill the liberating message of the Gospel. With incisive analysis, Cone dismantles the bloodthirsty White Christianity of American imperialism and honestly exposes the liberating Word of God that has been perverted by oppressors for centuries. There is an excess of theological genius for those who are looking for eye-opening exegesis, and a similar ferocity of righteousness that will appeal to those who are committed to the work of liberation in their communities. Truly, the genius of this book is that it argues against the separation of theology and community and demands that the theologian sees the image of Jesus they are so committed to in that community.