“They that walked in darkness sang songs in the olden days—Sorrow Songs—for they were weary at heart … a haunting echo of these weird old songs in which the soul of the black slave spoke to men. Ever since I was a child these songs have stirred me strangely. They came out of the South unknown to me, one by one, and yet at once I knew them as of me and of mine. Then in after years when I came to Nashville I saw the great temple builded of these songs towering over the pale city. To me Jubilee Hall seemed ever made of the songs themselves, and its bricks were red with the blood and dust of toil.”

These are the words of black sociologist, W. E. B. DuBois, from his enduring work The Souls of Black Folk. In them he describes the ability of the African American spiritual to both captivate and comfort its hearer. The music of black Americans from this bygone era almost photographs the intersection between despair and hope. In these lyrics the truth of God’s Word meets the specific needs of a troubled people.

The story of black preaching

Much like the history of black sacred music, the story of black preaching illustrates how preaching can fit every shade of need. There is no circumstance of culture or iteration of society that cannot find within good preaching the balm for all its ills. Preaching is not limited to our imposed confines of provincial preferences, epistemology, or social location. Its effectiveness is not measured by our academic craftiness or linguistic command. Preaching is bigger than that. It operates in two worlds simultaneously. It lifts the soul beyond the circumstances of the body. It meets our most profound needs, whatever they may be. The preaching of black Americans evidences this very idea. That, in part, is why we call it black preaching. If studied, it can help you more effectively reach your people with the gospel in their places of multi-colored circumstances.

Does preaching have pigment or is it colorless? That is a fair question. One of my preaching heroes, a black preacher, once asked me, “What is black preaching?” I almost fell out of my seat when I heard the question. I assumed he knew that it was colorful preaching, a kind of proclamation that exposed the truth of the biblical text illuminated by the specific struggle and nuances of the black experience in America. It is somewhat unique in that black preaching’s subsequent generations innovate within the stream of its historical witness. Then it occurred to me that he assumed something altogether different. His assumption was an assertion that all preaching is the same color or shade. But preaching is not without color. The formulation of homiletics and hermeneutics are not devoid of cultural influence.

The aesthetic of colorful preaching

I am often struck by the language of beauty both in form and intent in the Bible. Much of what we read in Scripture is not propositional bullet points. Often we are invited to enter the narrative of stories and parables or the imagery of poems. The Bible’s culture, liturgy, and history imply that communication between God and men took forms understandable and relatable to humankind. There is an aesthetic beauty to the language of the Bible; one, which I propose, should be reflected in our preaching. Isaiah’s Hebrew, Hosea’s narration, the psalmist’s poetic devices, and the Chronicler’s fallen heroes invite the reader of Scripture into the realm where God meets man.

Perhaps it is appropriate to submit that the human ear appreciates beauty, imagery, and artistry in communication. Since preaching proclaims a biblical text rich in these elements, it should carry a similar beauty. I think the best of black preaching demonstrates this well. If you are looking for specific examples, I would recommend the preaching of Ralph Douglas West, Maurice Watson, Robert Smith, Gardner Taylor, and William Augustus Jones to name a few. In them you will hear some of the richest examples of biblical preaching with aesthetic value.

Another benefit of preaching with aesthetic value is its protection against boredom. It should be a crime for preaching to be flat and without interest. Such preaching does not accurately reflect the intent and content of Scripture. One way to keep preaching from boredom is to enter the sorrow of our listeners. When reading Scripture, we can hear the lament of Jeremiah, the edge of Amos, and the regret of Moses. A hallmark of black preaching is its attentiveness to the plight of its hearers. Who can ignore the blood of the slain on Chicago’s streets? What proclamation of the truth can evade the injustice of voter suppression and food deserts? Or what can we say about the issues of turmoil that affect the marginalized and the least of these in our congregations? We should be found saying something! A brand of preaching that elopes to the safe confines of ivory or ebony towers leaves the famished hungry and the parched thirsty. We, who preach, would do well to enter the sorrowful spaces of those who hear us. Preaching that acknowledges sorrow is sure to connect its hearers with the truth of God’s Word.

Circumstantial relevance of colorful preaching

Colorful preaching has circumstantial relevance. It makes the claim that preaching should say something specific to the particular location of people. Dr. Crawford Loritts used to remind us that preaching does not orbit in the realm of generalities. He would say that it had to be an unambiguous word from God to a particular people at this special moment in history. That grips me when I study the passage for preaching. It prompts me to think of the varied situations of those who will listen. In my sermon preparation, I am asking God how this text is tailored for the varied shades of need in our pews. My encouragement to you is to include some variation of this practice in your own sermon writing.

As we come to the conclusion of African American history month, may we be gripped by the generous contribution of African American preachers. This is not just my heritage; it is also, a gift of American preaching. It is helpful to listen to the best of black preaching, to regularly invite black preachers to fill your pulpit. It is most helpful to garner wisdom from this sacred tradition. Within its innovation you can find some creative ways to inspire and catalyze your own preaching.

Charlie Dates is the senior pastor at the historic Progressive Baptist Church in Chicago, Illinois.