We are two and a half decades into the 21st century, and the Black Church stands where it always has stood in times of social change — at the crossroads between remaining a vital institution for the survival and flourishing of its people or becoming increasingly disconnected from the full range of their needs.
African American pastors and congregations must decide whether to equip people with a faith that thrives inside and outside the walls of the church or one largely confined to church life. We have been here before during the struggles against slavery, segregation and mass incarceration. Once again, we face the erosion of civil rights protections, widening economic inequality and renewed efforts to erase Black history.
Lewis Brogdon
The question is not whether the Black Church still matters. It does.
As C. Eric Lincoln and Lawrence Mamiya observed, it has been the central institution of Black community life, preserving dignity, hope and identity through slavery, segregation and exclusion. Black preaching sustained generations by reminding suffering people to trust God and persevere. That theological tradition carried our people through some of the darkest chapters of American history, and thanks be to God for that.
“What preserved us in one era can become insufficient in another.”
Yet what preserved us in one era can become insufficient in another. The Black Church developed as a safe haven against racial oppression, but safe havens can become isolated havens. Too often congregations and denominational life have become absorbed with internal activities while remaining disconnected from the structural forces shaping Black communities.
The blessing and limitation of a survival faith
Survival theology can unintentionally condition communities to accommodate suffering rather than organize against the systems producing it. The messages of “hold on,” “be patient” and “trust God” can become disconnected from organized efforts to challenge unjust laws, policies and institutions.
In some cases, churches become so focused on helping people endure suffering that they fail to help them confront the structures perpetuating that suffering.
Martin Luther King’s concern was ultimately about relevance. Worship that inspires but fails to equip disciples to engage the realities confronting Black communities leaves people “disappointed at midnight.” The issue is not whether spirituality matters but whether our churches possess the theological range and institutional vision to address both the spiritual and structural dimensions of Black life.
From talking to transformation
The challenge extends beyond the church itself. Many nonprofits, educational institutions, advocacy organizations and social justice networks serving Black communities wrestle with similar limitations. Good intentions, compelling rhetoric and meaningful conversations do not automatically produce measurable change.
The question is not whether we care about justice. The question is whether we have developed the structures, strategies and institutions necessary to advance it.
“One of the great challenges facing racial justice work today is the tendency to confuse activity with effectiveness.”
One of the great challenges facing racial justice work today is the tendency to confuse activity with effectiveness. We live in an era filled with conferences, panels, webinars, speeches, podcasts, public statements and social media activism. There is no shortage of talking. Yet talking and transformation are not the same thing. Awareness and outrage, while important, do not automatically produce structural change.
In previous work, I argued that racial justice efforts often remain trapped in what might be called a “talking apparatus.” Conferences, public forums, webinars and statements create space to discuss racism, but too often they fail to produce measurable outcomes in the lives of Black people. Organizations and institutions can become extremely busy while remaining ineffective. Churches, nonprofits, advocacy organizations and educational institutions are not immune from this pattern.
This challenge requires a shift from reactive activism to organized, outcomes-based engagement. In another resource I wrote titled “Planning After Protesting,” I argued that effective movements move through three stages: Protest, education and advocacy, and finally planning and organization. Protest moments are necessary because they raise awareness, dramatize injustice and create moral pressure. Educational forums also are important because communities must understand the historical and structural roots of injustice. But movements ultimately require planning, coordination, institution-building and measurable goals.
The Black Church historically has excelled at moral proclamation and protest. It has produced prophetic voices capable of challenging the conscience of the nation. What often has been lacking, however, are durable mechanisms capable of translating moral concern into organized public action. Sermons alone are not mechanisms of change. Conferences alone are not mechanisms of change. Social media outrage is not a mechanism of change. Sustainable change requires institutions, networks, advocacy structures, research, strategic planning, policy engagement and coordinated leadership.
Lessons from King’s final vision
The need for stronger mechanisms of change is not a new concern. Many of the very challenges facing Black churches and justice movements today were identified by Martin Luther King Jr. in his final book, Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?
Writing in 1967, King recognized that protest alone would not be sufficient to secure lasting change. The movement had succeeded in exposing injustice and winning important legislative victories, but King understood that a new phase of the struggle required greater organization, political maturity, coalition-building and the development of independent power.
King wrote, “Our nettlesome task is to discover how to organize our strength into compelling power so that the government cannot elude our demands.” He lamented that “our creativity and imagination were not employed in learning how to develop power.” These observations are relevant today. Black churches often have demonstrated extraordinary moral authority and spiritual influence but have devoted far less attention to developing the institutions, networks and collaborative structures necessary to translate that influence into sustained public action.
King was particularly concerned about the lack of organized engagement in the political arena. While he acknowledged the importance of voter participation, he argued the movement’s task was not merely to increase registration and turnout. It also was necessary to develop “a strong voice that is heard in the smoke-filled rooms where party debating and bargaining proceed.” He believed Black communities remained vulnerable because they too often were disorganized, divided and excluded from decision-making processes where policy and priorities were being shaped.
Equally important, King emphasized coalition-building and what he called political maturity. He understood that lasting change requires strategic partnerships, organized leadership and the ability to navigate institutions of power without becoming dependent upon them. “We shall have to master the art of political alliances,” he insisted.
“King’s concern was not partisan politics but organized influence.”
King’s concern was not partisan politics but organized influence. He recognized that symbolic gestures and periodic mobilizations, while important, are insufficient without durable structures capable of sustaining engagement over the long term.
Much of what King identified as unfinished work remains unfinished today. The challenge before the Black Church is not merely to inspire people, educate congregations or mobilize protests. It is to build the mechanisms, institutions, partnerships and leadership networks necessary to transform moral concern into organized public witness and measurable social change.
From Moses to Nehemiah
For generations, Moses has functioned as one of the dominant leadership models within the Black freedom tradition. Moses confronts Pharaoh, speaks truth to power and leads oppressed people toward liberation. This remains an essential model of prophetic leadership. Yet the present moment requires the Black Church to recover another biblical model alongside Moses: Nehemiah.
Nehemiah was not merely a prophet of lamentation. He was a planner, organizer and builder. He recognized Jerusalem could not be restored without rebuilding the walls and infrastructure necessary for communal flourishing. He moved from prayer to planning, from lament to institution-building.
The Black Church now needs Nehemiah leadership. We need leaders capable not only of diagnosing problems but also building mechanisms of change. We need pastors, scholars, organizers, policy thinkers, researchers, advocates and denominational leaders who can help coordinate long-term efforts around issues such as voting rights, criminal justice reform, health care disparities, economic inequality, education, environmental justice and community development. Such leadership requires structures that connect churches, denominational leaders, scholars, advocates and community partners around common concerns and shared action.
This is one of the reasons the Black Church needs a coordinated advocacy presence in Washington, D.C.
A national advocacy office
The proposal for a national Black church advocacy office is not about partisan politics or electoral campaigning. It is about organized public witness. Other religious traditions maintain advocacy offices, policy networks and coordinated structures that monitor legislation, educate constituents, engage lawmakers and advocate around issues impacting their communities. The Black Church, despite its historic role in American public life, lacks comparable coordinated infrastructure across denominational and theological lines.
“A national advocacy office could serve as a collaborative mechanism that helps Black churches move from fragmented engagement to coordinated action.”
A national advocacy office could serve as a collaborative mechanism that helps Black churches move from fragmented engagement to coordinated action. Such an office could provide policy briefings, legislative updates, advocacy training, research support and opportunities for denominational leaders and pastors to engage lawmakers directly. It could organize annual advocacy summits in Washington where leaders gather to discuss pressing issues, strengthen partnerships and advocate for policies impacting Black communities.
Equally important, such an initiative could help cultivate measurable outcomes and long-term planning. One of the weaknesses in much contemporary justice work is the absence of clear goals, accountability structures and coordinated reporting mechanisms. The Black Church possesses enormous moral energy and institutional reach, but far less coordination around specific public outcomes. A national advocacy initiative could help facilitate broader collaboration among denominations, churches, nonprofit organizations, HBCUs, scholars, community leaders and advocacy organizations committed to the flourishing of Black communities.
Such an effort also would require difficult institutional reflection within Black churches and denominations themselves. If advocacy, justice formation and coordinated public witness are truly priorities, then leaders may need to reconsider how denominational time, energy, gatherings and resources are structured.
It is difficult to build sustained advocacy infrastructure when calendars, conferences and organizational cultures leave little room for this kind of long-term strategic work. Public witness requires not only moral conviction, but institutional commitment and coordination.
The beginning of a conversation
The Black Church helped generations survive oppression. The challenge before us now is whether we will build the structures necessary to confront and transform it. The question facing Black church leaders today is whether we will remain content with protest and proclamation alone or embrace the harder work of organization, coordination and institution-building.
This article is intended to begin, not end, an important conversation. Earlier this year, I began exploring these ideas with Samuel Tolbert, president of the National Baptist Convention of America International, and that conversation since has expanded to include denominational leaders, bishops, pastors and advocacy partners across several Black church traditions. A preliminary survey has revealed significant interest in exploring a more coordinated approach to Black church public witness, leadership collaboration, advocacy and policy engagement.
In the months ahead, JustFaith Ministries, the NBCA and other denominational partners will continue exploring the possibility of a collaborative national initiative to strengthen the Black Church’s capacity for coordinated public witness. I invite denominational leaders, pastors, scholars, advocacy organizations and others committed to the flourishing of Black communities to join this conversation.
The challenges before us are too great for fragmented efforts. If the Black Church is to help shape the next chapter of American public life, we must discern together what faithful, coordinated and sustained public witness requires in this generation.
Lewis Brogdon serves as executive director of JustFaith Ministries.