drcharleswferguson

Stop Sacrificing Your Blackness

One of the crazy things that I have witnessed in the past few months is the willingness of Black people to deny significant parts of their identity for the environment that we are currently traversing. It is challenging for me to watch people who share my heritage live in denial of a certain level of dignity and divinity—to buy into a supremacist ideology that will spit them out in five seconds or less.

Ever since the death of a podcaster sparked something within people, I have sat back wondering to myself—is this really it? Is this the environment that Jesus Christ died for? Is this the world that many individuals have decided to settle for in the name of a mascot Jesus that definitely ain’t my Jesus?

Maybe the statement must be an observation more than a command: stop sacrificing your Blackness for white approval.

Many white people would take this statement and suggest it is a racist statement. Listen close—whiteness is the condition that lifts flesh to an unrealistic place of dominance over someone or something. It’s not a color—it’s a culture. It’s a power structure that convinces people that they are superior simply because history told them so, and they never questioned the lie.

And what breaks my heart is how many of us have started believing the lie too. Somewhere along the line, we traded in the richness of our heritage for the comfort of assimilation. We began confusing acceptance with affirmation. But the truth is, you can be accepted into a system that never intends to affirm you. You can sit at the table and still be on the menu.

There is something spiritually violent about denying your own reflection just to be liked by those who benefit from your invisibility. It’s like trying to baptize yourself in someone else’s approval while drowning in your own denial.

We can’t keep selling our birthright for social media validation and proximity to whiteness. We can’t keep performing humility while our humanity gets trampled. We can’t keep calling it “unity” when what’s really happening is erasure.

When I look around, I see a generation trying to reconcile faith with a culture that has rewritten Jesus to fit its politics. The “mascot Jesus” being paraded in the public square is not the same Jesus who flipped tables, walked with the marginalized, and challenged empire. That Jesus—the one I know—never asked anyone to sacrifice their Blackness for belonging.

Many people have never looked at the nature of dominance as something that is not a part of the method or the ways of Christ. While some might agree with that sentiment, most people do not recognize how ingrained it is in their psyche, mentality, or theology.

Consider that people will continue to defend the lives of those who propagated hateful rhetoric 99% of the time but managed to craft the 1% for those who refuse to examine the totality of their existence. It makes me understand, in a greater sense, why people are so gung-ho about becoming apologists for this brand of Christianity.

The truth is that following and examining the life of Jesus closely will never require any human defense. This brand of religion has attempted to tell me that my importance will only be embraced when I deny myself. Yet the denial appears to be more about becoming a part of a monolith—which, by nature, is ungodly.

Why would I ever consent to denying the image and likeness that was given to me by God?
Why would I have to give away my uniqueness to make a community feel better about my existence in it?

You know, at this very moment, I finally realize why my anger and frustration with so-called followers has finally hit its fever pitch. I didn’t have to change. I didn’t have to give up my uniqueness. I finally see it.

This horrible virus that persists is the result of a source that knows it can’t thrive or survive in a world of color. In other words, lacking the true knowledge of self as God intends has created hatred for those who see themselves only through God’s eyes.

When you know yourself, no one can condition you.
When you are devoid of a sense of your unique self, you will attach to anything at the risk of forfeiting the God-given blessing of being you.

That price is way too high.

Give me the real Jesus and my identity that is found in Him.
Anything less is cheap, frail, and worthless.

What does it profit to gain the world and lose my soul?
Or what will I give in exchange for my soul?

Absolutely nothing.

Closing Reflection

So from this day forward, I choose freedom over fitting in. I choose truth over tolerance. I choose the Jesus who walks with the wounded and stands with the silenced. I choose to live as one made in the image and likeness of a God who never needed validation from empire.

If that choice costs me access, applause, or approval, so be it. My soul is not for sale, and my Blackness is not up for negotiation. I am who God created me to be—fully, fearfully, wonderfully. And that is more than enough.

Stop sacrificing your Blackness for white approval.
Walk boldly in the divine image that shaped you.
Because the world doesn’t need another imitation of power—
it needs a living reflection of truth.

You Need You Before the World Can Get to You

I am sitting here thinking to myself — why am I so tired?
More than that, I wonder why so many people I know and love are feeling exhausted too.

I gather that many of us are dealing with jobs, circumstances, and environments that challenge our humanity beyond its limits. Yet this season doesn’t feel “normal.” Something deeper seems to be at work.

I hear the voices of many Black preachers across the country openly admitting that it has been exhausting just being Blackin this nation. I’ve listened to caretakers whisper that the burden has become too heavy to carry. And when I look around at the world, it feels as if the masses have no clear direction — pulled between unity, divisiveness, and chaos.

All we know is that we are existing.
That, in itself, is a sad state of affairs.

Too many people are majoring in the “Marshawn Lynch School of Life”:

“I’m here so I don’t get fined.”

I understand that sentiment. I get it.

That’s why this isn’t going to be an overly introspective piece.
I just want you to know — we’re in this together.
Yes, all of us.

Do whatever it takes to keep yourself settled.
Because the only constant in this current equation is that life is going to continue to change.
It will keep moving, shifting, and stretching us.

Still, we must remember: God has made us uniquely equipped to address the unrest of this life.

So hear me when I say—
Preserve your soul.
Keep your mind.
Reserve your existence for the grateful.
Separate yourself from the entitled.
Sleep when you need to.
Reinvest in your own advancement.

Why?
Because you need you before the world can get to you.

Peace...

Christianity, Empire, and the Loss of Uniqueness

I am concerned. Deeply concerned.

First, I’m watching people buy into the lie that Christianity and empire belong together—that somehow following Jesus is compatible with maintaining the power structures of American society. At the same time, I see people I love and respect losing their capacity to understand why others are outraged by the rhetoric (or silence) shaping this country.

I sit in this world as a Black man who loves God and follows Jesus. I serve as a leader in a predominately white denomination. I rest my hat on the conviction that I am called to ministry. And yet, I remain bewildered by the idea that logic, reason, and decency are often treated as if they must remain separate from authentic faith.

But maybe I should be used to this by now.

From preschool to the 10th grade, I attended private “Christian schools.” The goal was always to set myself up with the best education possible. I excelled academically. I was well-liked. I did my best to get along with everyone—and for the most part, I succeeded. But I knew I would never truly fit the mold those environments expected.

The truth is those institutions offered what they called “Christian education,” but what they taught didn’t fully reflect the principles Christ taught and lived. I was taught history from books written to redirect the truth. I heard narratives that erased my people’s story rather than acknowledge the tragedy of this nation. I wasn’t as vocal then as I am now, but I felt the pressure to mute my true voice, to conform, to blend in.

Leaving those institutions changed everything. At East High School, a public school, I found an incubator for my identity as a preacher, leader, scholar, and man. Ironically, it was there—outside the walls of so-called “Christian education”—that I discovered my uniqueness had a place in the world.

Why? Because I was constantly surrounded by believers who demanded my best, but who also showed grace. They celebrated my uniqueness instead of demeaning it. They encouraged me to live out my convictions, not just pay lip service. They gave me space to be both faithful and authentic without requiring me to erase anyone else’s story in the process.

A public school gave me more grounding in spirituality and faith than a “Christian school” ever did.

That realization stays with me as I watch this society slip back into a season where “faith” is a buzzword rather than a true practice of embracing humanity in all its forms. And it’s not just the church. This nation also treats faith like a slogan, uniqueness like a threat, and justice like a bargaining chip.

Here’s the tension: the Church—the body of Christ—embraces the uniqueness of God’s creation. But the church as an institution struggles to walk out the principles of Christ, too often latching onto political platforms and power structures that couldn’t care less about His kingdom. And likewise, society claims to uphold liberty and equality while writing policies and creating cultures that suppress both.

The Apostle Paul wrote in Romans 12:1–2:

“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

Authentic faith demands nonconformity. Authentic citizenship demands truth-telling. Both require refusing to be squeezed into the molds of empire, silence, or status quo.

And in that spirit, I hear the words of Robert Jones, Jr.:

“We can disagree and still love each other unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist.”

This is where we are. Too often, the institutional church dismisses the uniqueness of God’s creation in the name of keeping peace. Too often, society itself props up empire rather than dismantling it. Both settle for comfort over transformation.

But Jesus never called us to be monolithic believers. And justice never thrives in a monolithic society. Christ lifted up the least, the last, the lost, and the downtrodden. He called people into the fullness of who they were created to be. He pushed people to live authentically, courageously, and faithfully—not to shrink themselves for the sake of the status quo.

I wonder: if we truly paid attention to the teachings of Jesus, would we be in this situation today? If we stopped trying to tell the Teacher that He is wrong, and instead examined what He actually taught, maybe the Church would look different. Maybe society would look different. Maybe we would look different.

Until then, I will continue to believe that authentic faith is not about empire, not about silence, not about conformity. It is about uniqueness. It is about courage. And it is about following Jesus—even when the world tells you to mute your voice.

A Call to Action

For the Church: Refuse cheap alliances with platforms that profit from fear, division, or silence. Recover the radical dignity of Christ, who lifted the least and challenged the powerful.
For Society: Stop treating liberty and equality as slogans and begin embodying them in policy, education, and everyday interactions. Hold systems accountable when they suppress humanity.
For Each of Us: Renew your mind (Romans 12:2). Resist conformity to empire. Speak truth even when it costs. Protect the uniqueness of your neighbor as fiercely as you protect your own.

Because transformation—in both church and society—will only happen when people of courage decide that God’s truth is more important than empire’s comfort.