An exquisitely thorough, yet beautifully intimate, Orthodox Christian wading through the waters of the African American religious experience.
We live in a world that is transfixed by the topic of racism and white supremacy – in the last few years alone we have seen global coverage of the death of innocent black people, an increase in violence against the persecution of Asian persons, and Vladimir Putin proudly exclaiming that America’s actions inspired his invasion of Ukraine. Race is clearly not a problem that American Christianity has been able to subdue, but it is clearly a problem that is so deeply engrained that it must be addressed for us to follow the calling of Jesus Christ to love one’s neighbor. While there is some truth that the return to an Eastern Orthodox Christian way of life should be sufficient to making “Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven,” there’s a real sense that we need to understand how that way of life might respond to the struggles of our neighbors here on earth that are experiencing something as highly complex as racial violence. Fr. Paul Abernathy helps the reader walk through those complexities with remarkable clarity in his first book “The Prayer of a Broken Heart:” firstly, by contextualizing the African American religious experience to an Orthodox reader, but also by offering intimate stories and narratives of Orthodox leaders and organizations that have committed themselves to the struggle against the demonic forces of anti-black racism.
What Rev. Abernathy accomplishes in this book is nothing short of remarkable. If he had produced a book that was “merely” an Orthodox theology that explains and condemns the nuances or justifications of anti-black racism, or “merely” produced a detailed history of Orthodox movements against the truly powerful forces of ignorance, or “merely” gathered the narratives of the oppressed so that the reader can see how black life pursues spiritual healing amid ongoing suffering – any of these books would be immensely helpful to understand the neighbor that is affected by the sins of racial pride. Fr. Paul’s book attempts them all, and he excels in achieving those goals. The author uses the narratives of slaves, slave masters, and international visitors to dispel with false myths that the origins of black Christianity was forced upon them by insightfully pointing out how slave masters feared the notion of “Christian slaves” because of their own understanding of the power of prayer, their own religious indifference, and a general anxiety that the gospel’s own radical teachings might motivate a revolution against them. As a student that has studied various struggles of race in America, I was familiar with much of the content matter before sitting down with the text, but I was pleasantly surprised to learn new information to understand these struggles even more thoroughly. That said, the text may have had an academic audience in mind but was written to reach all people – I wouldn’t be surprised if even those that disliked reading, itself, might find themselves flipping through the pages as eagerly as I did.
What “The Prayer of a Broken Heart” seeks to do is trace the history of African spiritual practices as they endure the evolving face of gratuitous racial violence that moved from slave-ships to the problems of the modern-day landscape. The writing style can only be described as tonally loving and gracious: there is a real feeling of heartbreak when one reads about the sins that separates parents from their children and communities from their neighbors, but there is also a profoundly deep desire for reconciliation with all people – as is hoped for in the gospel’s description of unconditional love. Fr. Paul offers wisdom by gathering knowledge on the topic from several different sources. He reflects on his own experiences as a black man living and working in a historically black community, he cites scholars on race and religion, quotes narratives from important time-periods at length, invokes the wisdom of both more recent Orthodox writers and the ancient Church fathers, and returns to the scriptures regularly. If critics suspicious of religious discussions of race require a wisdom that comes from living with (and in) the scriptures to caution against being compromised by sin, then this book is the one to offer it. Conversely, if a critic comes from a perspective that failing to live with (and in) the struggles of black communities may mean the writer is likely to misunderstand the struggle itself, then look no further: the wisdom of this book comes from the same broken heart that it lives with.
Rev. Abernathy works through this redemptive Orthodox trajectory of African American spirituality (and, quickly, black Christianity as it developed in America) through nine chapters. There is a drawing of parallels between the suffering of African slaves and the historic suffering of Orthodox Christians throughout time, and the author uses descriptive (not prescriptive) analysis to show how slave Christianity emerges by supernaturally mirroring both the conditions of the ancient church and the response to live prayerfully, as Christ did. Fr. Paul addresses the cultural criticism that Christianity is “the white man’s religion” in chapter two, demonstrates miraculous occurrences in which black people came to Christ in ways that are reminiscent of the ancient church in chapter three, uses Orthodox understandings of the “Church” to explain the natural self-organizing practices of slaves in chapter four, shows how the musical practices of black people were life-affirming and “kept their eyes watching God” in chapter five, African and Eastern perspectives that contrast Euro-American and Western approaches to better square understandings of Christianity with its ancient origin in chapter six, a seventh chapter dedicated solely to the perverse evolution of racism in America that is both so expansive and so thorough that one can gain an excellent introduction to the socio-political field of racism that marks the black experience today through its writing, chapter eight features callings for healing here in the States, and concludes with a ninth chapter that demonstrates how Orthodoxy can be seen as the fullness of African American spirituality – if only it hears the prayers of the broken hearts in its own neighborhoods as a calling to love our neighbors in diverse and nuanced ways. If there is a criticism of this book, it might be that chapter nine would be better served as the introduction to a sequel book on a similar topic: if the reader has an experience like mine, then they would be clamoring to learn about contemporary Eastern Orthodox ways to materialize an ancient and transcendent faith to serve the people.
Truthfully, the book is written as beautifully as one could hope, on any topic. Nearly every chapter begins with Rev. Abernathy’s personal thoughts, experiences, and interactions with the struggles that his church and ministry engage in his neighborhood, the Hill District, in Pittsburgh. Seamlessly, his prose steps in and out of time by engaging the similar struggles of similar people during different moments in history and connecting them in conversation with major Christian fields of thought. Each chapter returns to the person that he was mentoring, praying with, and/or serving; there’s a real sense that the Christian theme of the chapter is spiritually alive in these engagements. Perhaps that’s what is so remarkable about this book – what sets it apart from other Christian books or books on race is that it feels like an otherworldly presence that is only ever discussed in passing, or theoretically, is very much present in these writings. This book is a witness to a mystical reality – and it is even so generous as to show the reader some of the steps of how it got there.
As an Indigenous Christian that has looked to leaders in the Black Christian tradition for spiritual aid during times where I, myself, was struggling with the racial state of the allegedly Christian church in the West, this book was truly a blessed read. One could only imagine how the Church might move if church leaders (especially Orthodox ones) spoke from the wisdom that this book offers to tend to their flocks; perhaps our imaginations that have long been held hostage by constricting racial struggles would be free to love our neighbors in new ways – so that His will can be done on earth, as it is in heaven.