In Black Suffering, James Henry Harris explores the nexus of injustices, privations, and pains that contribute to the daily suffering seen and felt in the lives of Black folks. This suffering is so normalized in American life that it often goes unnoticed, unseen, and even--more often--purposely ignored. The reality of Black suffering is both omnipresent and complicated--both a reaction to and a result of the reality of white supremacy, its psychological and historical legacy, and its many insidious and fractured expressions within contemporary culture. Because Black suffering is so wholly disregarded, it must be named, discussed, and analyzed.
Black Suffering articulates suffering as an everyday reality of Black life. Harris names suffering's many manifestations, both in history and in the present moment, and provides a unique portrait of the ways Black suffering has been understood by others. Drawing on decades of personal experience as a pastor, theologian, and educator, Harris gives voice to suffering's practical impact on church leaders as they seek to forge a path forward to address this huge and troubling issue. Black Suffering is both a mixtape and a call to consciousness, a work that identifies Black suffering, shines a light on the insidious normalization of the phenomenon, and begins a larger conversation about correcting the historical weight of suffering carried by Black people.
The book combines elements of memoir, philosophy, historical analysis, literary criticism, sermonic discourse, and even creative nonfiction to present a "remix" of the suffering experienced daily by Black people.
Rev. Dr. James Henry Harris is the Distinguished Professor and Chair of Homiletics and Practical Theology and Research Scholar in Religion at the School of Theology, Virginia Union University and pastor of Second Baptist Church (West End) both in Richmond, VA. Source: https://www.vuu.edu/theology/faculty-...
I remember the conversation clearly. It was the first quarter of my seminary career. The class was American Protestant Theology. We were charged with making a presentation of our research paper to the class. I don't remember what I presented, but my African American colleague presented on Black theology, specifically the work of James Cone. He made the point that unless one is black, one cannot truly understand the black experience. In my naivete, I wanted to push back. I might be white, but surely I can understand black theology, at least intellectually. Over the course of time, I've learned that an intellectual grasp of theology is not the same thing as truly understanding the experience of another.
I offer this autobiographical statement as a prelude to offering a review of James Henry Harris' Black Suffering: Silent Pain, Hidden Hope. Writing as a white male who has not experienced life as he has lived it, I must attend to his words with humility and respect. Harris is a pastor and professor. He uses a combination of short stories, sermons, and autobiographical elements to share the reality of Black suffering. If you are White, like me, you will be uncomfortable. You may want to push back. However, it is best to listen so that a degree of understanding may be gained. But as one discovers, Harris notes that folks in the Black and Brown communities don't necessarily want to hear about their suffering either. Nevertheless, Harris, who is a preacher himself, offers to us what he calls a "mixtape" of Black suffering.
Harris envisions this book as a call to consciousness. It is, he suggests, "a call to wake up from our slumber and challenge the world to take its feet off the necks, backs, and rib cages of black folk." (p. 7). As we move through the book we hear descriptions of black suffering, including lynchings. We encounter stories of those who have suffered. We also hear about those who have engaged in raising of the consciousness of people Black and White, including W.E.B. Du Bois, Nat Turner, Toni Morrison, and James Cone. While much of the book focuses on suffering and oppression, there is hope here as well. That hope is found, in the black church, if it faces the realities of life as it is currently lived.
One of the messages heard in this book is Harris's concern that many in the black church do not wish to hear messages about social justice. They just want to come and worship, and thus escape the realities of the world outside. For Harris, this is not an option. Thus, preaching becomes for him silent suffering. For those of us who serve progressive white churches, it is important that we hear this. We may enjoy being prophetic, as we preach to choirs of agreement, it is important to note that we preach largely to audiences that do not suffer in this way. Social justice is a cause to embrace, but not one that affects one's daily life.
Hope is found in the liberating message of Jesus, who faced the lynching tree. Thus, Harris writes in his concluding paragraph, that "Just as Jesus exposed the truth and disrupted the norms of the oppressive and unjust status quo of first-century Palestine, Black people must continue to struggle against suffering in order to disrupt the same oppressive and unjust cultural structures in America." (p. 234).
As I read the book, I wanted to say, I may be white, but I don't hate Black folks. I'm a good guy, but Harris reminds me that I benefit from Black suffering. It's hard to hear, but it's necessary so that we might move beyond the current cultural dynamics that plague our nation.