Black Christ
By Stephanie Dinsae
Christ was African
Christ was African
Christ was African
As I taste those words in my mouth, something doesn’t feel right
How can you say Christ was African when we know he was white?
I mean, there’s no way he could be African
Africans….are Black
Look at that olive…. lack of sin on his
Skin
If he were Black, how could he be the next of kin
No godly figure could be created in such an image
A dark, negative, undeveloped image
Christ could never be African
Those Africans were meant to be enslaved
And for all the people Jesus has saved
Those Africans were never a part of the picture
Unless you’re talkin’ bout the postcards mom and dad used to pass around during Christmas dinner
Them Africans were crucified in pieces of wood hugged by moss
Kinda like the way Jesus Christ was crucified on a piece of wood called the cross
Pause
That’s… mere coincidence
Nothing else similar about those kinda incidents
Because if Jesus were Black, do you know how much trouble we white folk would be in?
Do you know how much damage we’ve caused?
What we’ve done to Africans on the continent and abroad?
My head won’t allow me to process such a thought
If God were created in the image of an African, I would be so distraught
Would be so frightened of God
So taken aback, so surprised
Surprised that a people so low could have originated from a place so high
That God is a Black person resting calmly in the sky
Looking upon us white folk, shaking his head
Watching us look back in dread
Fearing the day we’re finally dead
Because we thought WE were god and let it get to our head
Drowning in sorrow and regret
Wishing we had never set
Out to ruin that continent
To go and play God
When all along, he was playing us
Now into flames we combust
