This book maps the various allusions to and interpretations and citations of Psalm 68:31 - a largely Protestant and Anglophone phenomenon - in black American letters, to show how it was read and to trace the readings it produced.

In The Black Republic, Brandon R. Byrd explores the ambivalent attitudes that African American leaders in the post-Civil War era held toward Haiti, the first and only black republic in the Western Hemisphere. Following emancipation, African American leaders of all kinds—politicians, journalists, ministers, writers, educators, artists, and diplomats—identified new and urgent connections with Haiti, a nation long understood as an example of black self-determination. They celebrated not only its diplomatic recognition by the United States but also the renewed relevance of the Haitian Revolution. While a number of African American leaders defended the sovereignty of a black republic whose fate they saw as intertwined with their own, others expressed concern over Haiti's fitness as a model black republic, scrutinizing whether the nation truly reflected the "civilized" progress of the black race. Influenced by the imperialist rhetoric of their day, many African Americans across the political spectrum espoused a politics of racial uplift, taking responsibility for the "improvement" of Haitian education, politics, culture, and society. They considered Haiti an uncertain experiment in black self-governance: it might succeed and vindicate the capabilities of African Americans demanding their own right to self-determination or it might fail and condemn the black diasporic population to second-class status for the foreseeable future. When the United States military occupied Haiti in 1915, it created a crisis for W. E. B. Du Bois and other black activists and intellectuals who had long grappled with the meaning of Haitian independence. The resulting demand for and idea of a liberated Haiti became a cornerstone of the anticapitalist, anticolonial, and antiracist radical black internationalism that flourished between World War I and World War II. Spanning the Reconstruction, post-Reconstruction, and Jim Crow eras, The Black Republic recovers a crucial and overlooked chapter of African American internationalism and political thought.

"Taking up the reading of a poignant passage of scriptures as analytical wedge, this work is an impressive study of the complexity of the history of African American identity formation and orientation to the world."--Vincent L. Wimbush, author of The Bible and African Americans: A Brief History "Sound, theoretically sophisticated, and yields brilliant readings of the text, The Ethiopian Prophecy in Black American Letters will stand the test of time."--Katherine Clay Bassard, author of Transforming Scriptures: African American Women Writers and the Bible For centuries, Psalm 68:31 "Princes shall come forth out of Egypt; Ethiopia shall soon stretch forth her hands unto God," also known as the Ethiopian prophecy, has served as a pivotal and seminal text for those of African descent in the Americas. Originally, it was taken to mean that the slavery of African Americans was akin to the slavery of the Hebrews in Egypt, and thus it became an articulation of the emancipation struggle. However, it has also been used as an impetus for missionary work in Africa, as an inspirational backbone for the civil rights movement, and as a call for a separate black identity during the twentieth century. Utilizing examples from Richard Allen, Maria W. Stewart, Kate Drumgoold, Phillis Wheatley, Martin Delany, W.E.B. DuBois, Marcus Garvey, and Ralph Ellison, Kay reveals the wide variety of ways this verse has been interpreted and conceptualized in African American history and letters for more than two hundred years. Roy Kay teaches college preparatory English at DeLaSalle High School in Minnesota. He was assistant professor at the University of Saint Thomas, Macalester College, and the University of Utah. A volume in the series The History of African American Religions

When God Lost Her Tongue explores historical consciousness as captured through the Black feminist imagination that re-centers the perspectives of Black women in the African Diaspora, and revisits how Black women’s transatlantic histories are re-imagined and politicized in our contemporary moment. Connecting select historical case studies – from the Caribbean, the African continent, North America, and Europe – while also examining the retelling of these histories in the work of present-day writers and artists, Janell Hobson utilizes a Black feminist lens to rescue the narratives of African-descended women, which have been marginalized, erased, forgotten, and/or mis-remembered. African goddesses crossing the Atlantic with captive Africans. Women leaders igniting the Haitian Revolution. Unnamed Black women in European paintings. African women on different sides of the "door of no return" during the era of the transatlantic slave trade. Even ubiquitous "Black queens" heralded and signified in a Beyoncé music video or a Janelle Monáe lyric. And then there are those whose names we will never forget, like the iconic Harriet Tubman. This critical interdisciplinary intervention will be key reading for students and researchers studying African American women, Black feminisms, feminist methodologies, Africana studies, and women and gender studies.

Was the stripping and exposure of Jesus a form of sexual abuse? If so, why does such a reading of Jesus’ suffering matter? The combined impact of the #MeToo movement and a further wave of global revelations on church sexual abuse have given renewed significance to recent work naming Jesus as a victim of sexual abuse. Timely and provocative "When did we see you naked?" presents the arguments for reading Christ as an abuse victim, as well as exploring how the position might be critiqued, and what implications and applications it might offer to the Church.

During the early twentieth century, millions of southern blacks moved north to escape the violent racism of the Jim Crow South and to find employment in urban centers. They transplanted not only themselves but also their culture; in the midst of this tumultuous demographic transition emerged a new social institution, the storefront sanctified church. Saved and Sanctified focuses on one such Philadelphia church that was started above a horse stable, was founded by a woman born sixteen years after the Emancipation Proclamation, and is still active today. "The Church," as it is known to its members, offers a unique perspective on an under-studied aspect of African American religious institutions. Through painstaking historical and ethnographic research, Deidre Helen Crumbley illuminates the crucial role these oftentimes controversial churches played in the spiritual life of the African American community during and after the Great Migration. She provides a new perspective on women and their leadership roles, examines the loose or nonexistent relationship these Pentecostal churches have with existing denominations, and dispels common prejudices about those who attend storefront churches. Skillfully interweaving personal vignettes from her own experience as a member, along with life stories of founding members, Crumbley provides new insights into the importance of grassroots religion and community-based houses of worship.

"In Before Modernism: Inventing American Lyric, Virginia Jackson argues that in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, Black poetics, in antagonism with White poetics, produced the conditions for the invention of modern American poetry. This is not a history of American poetry that begins with the Puritans and stretches to the present, or that jumps from the British Romantics to Walt Whitman, or that restricts the influence of African American poetry to a separate tradition; instead, this book emphasizes the many ways in which early Black poets invented what Phillis Wheatley Peters called "the deep design" of American lyric. Through readings of the poetics of Wheatley Peters, George Moses Horton, James Monroe Whitfield, and Frances Ellen Watkins Harper-as well as the poetics of now-neglected but once-popular White poets William Cullen Bryant and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow-Jackson suggests that Black poetics inspired the direction that American poetics has taken for the last two centuries. Thus this book represents not only a new history but a new theory of American poetry. Over the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, as an idea of poetry based on genres of poems (ballads, elegies, odes, hymns, drinking songs, epistles, etc.) gave way to an idea of poetry based on genres of people (Black, White, male, female, Indigenous, etc.), almost all poetry became lyric poetry. Like everything else in America, what we now think lyric is can be traced back to the twisted paths that have determined what we now think people are and can be. This book tells that story, the story of American lyric"--

Chosen peoples demonstrates how biblical themes, ideas and metaphors shaped racial, national and imperial identities in the long nineteenth century. Even as radical new ideas challenged the historicity of the Bible, biblical notions of lineage, descent and inheritance continued to inform understandings of race, nation and empire. European settler movements portrayed ‘new’ territories across the seas as lands of Canaan, but if many colonised and conquered peoples resisted the imposition of biblical narratives, they also appropriated biblical tropes to their own ends. These innovative case-studies throw new light on familiar areas such as slavery, colonialism and the missionary project, while forging exciting cross-comparisons between race, identity and the politics of biblical translation and interpretation in South Africa, Egypt, Australia, America and Ireland.

Highlighting Bethune’s global activism and her connections throughout the African diaspora This book examines the Pan-Africanism of Mary McLeod Bethune through her work, which internationalized the scope of Black women’s organizations to create solidarity among Africans throughout the diaspora. Broadening the familiar view of Bethune as an advocate for racial and gender equality within the United States, Ashley Preston argues that Bethune consistently sought to unify African descendants around the world with her writings, through travel, and as an advisor. Preston shows how Bethune’s early involvement with Black women’s organizations created personal connections across Cuba, Haiti, India, and Africa and shaped her global vision. Bethune founded and led the National Council of Negro Women, which strengthened coalitions with women across the diaspora to address issues in their local communities. Bethune served as director of the Division of Negro Affairs for the Franklin D. Roosevelt administration and later as associate consultant for the United Nations alongside W.E.B. DuBois and Walter White, using her influence to address diversity in the military, decolonization, suffrage, and imperialism. Mary McLeod Bethune the Pan-Africanist provides a fuller, more accurate understanding of Bethune’s work, illustrating the perspective and activism behind Bethune’s much-quoted words: “For I am my mother’s daughter, and the drums of Africa still beat in my heart.” Publication of this work made possible by a Sustaining the Humanities through the American Rescue Plan grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Hell Without Fires examines the spiritual and earthly results of conversion to Christianity for African-American antebellum writers. Using autobiographical narratives, the book shows how black writers transformed the earthly hell of slavery into a "New Jerusalem," a place they could call home. Yolanda Pierce insists that for African Americans, accounts of spiritual conversion revealed "personal transformations with far-reaching community effects. A personal experience of an individual's relationship with God is transformed into the possibility of liberating an entire community." The process of conversion could result in miraculous literacy, "callings" to preach, a renewed resistance to the slave condition, defiance of racist and sexist conventions, and communal uplift. These stories by five of the earliest antebellum spiritual writers--George White, John Jea, David Smith, Solomon Bayley, and Zilpha Elaw--create a new religious language that merges Christian scripture with distinct retellings of biblical stories, with enslaved people of African descent at their center. Showing the ways their language exploits the levels of meaning of words like master, slavery, sin, and flesh, Pierce argues that the narratives address the needs of those who attempted to transform a foreign god and religion into a personal and collective system of beliefs. The earthly "hell without fires"--one of the writer's characterizations of everyday life for those living in slavery--could become a place where an individual could be both black and Christian, and religion could offer bodily and psychological healing. Pierce presents a complex and subtle assessment of the language of conversion in the context of slavery. Her work will be important to those interested in the topics of slave religion and spiritual autobiography and to scholars of African American and early American literature and religion.