Rap and Religion Black Theology Review

black theology, Vol. 12 No. 1, April, 2014, 80–91 Book Reviews Anthony G. Reddie, SCM Core Text: Black Theology. London: SCM Press, 2012. 231pp. £25. ISBN 978-0-334-04156-6 (pbk). Reviewed by: Dwight N. Hopkins, Professor of Theology, University of Chicago Divinity School. Editor, The Cambridge Companion to Black Theology, and author of Being Human: Race, Culture, and Religion. dhopkins@uchicago.edu Anthony G. Reddie (a Visiting Research Fellow at Aston University, Birmingham, England) is described as the leading representative of Black theology in the United Kingdom. Editor of the influential Black Theology: An International Journal, Reddie has produced thirteen books and more than fifteen articles and essays on Christian education and Black theology. And this current text does not disappoint. Indeed, it continues to deepen his masterful critical command of Black theology and the formal engagement with theology and religious studies. This hefty book has two stated aims. One is to explain and describe the fundamental rationale of the Black theology of liberation discipline. The second task deploys what Reddie terms Transformative Popular Education, to root the discipline in the daily lives of ordinary Black people and their accompanying struggles. In a word, Reddie offers one vital theoretical and practical pathway for Black theology of liberation and all progressiveminded people across the world in the 21st century. Thus, this book not only substantiates the vitality of Black theology, but also points to its further enfleshment among the people for whom the movement was generated originally between 1966 and 1969. And by ‘‘movement,’’ I denote global movement because this publication attests to Reddie’s command of Black theology of liberation in the UK, the USA, Africa, and in the Caribbean. Note his eighteen-page bibliography covering international scholars in various disciplines and across generations, inclusive of womanist thinkers. Throughout the text, Reddie weaves together skillfully theory and practice, the academic and the popular, the local and the international, and power and epistemology. In non-binary fashion, he invites the reader to experience the fluidity of a both/and methodology and way of being in the world. Perhaps one of his most innovative achievements is advancing his trademark way of connecting theology (i.e. God talk) with pedagogy (i.e. transforming the world). Reddie is a master teacher. Chapter 1 sets liberation theologies as the frame for Black theology. This fact serves as a crucial reminder not only for Black peoples, but also for the world. For instance, the first three books on liberation theology were penned by Black people: Black Theology and Black Power (James H. Cone, 1969); A Black Theology of Liberation (James H. Cone, 1970); and Liberation and Reconciliation: A Black Theology (J. Deotis Roberts, 1971). Such historical contextualization corrects the intellectual amnesia of too many in the global struggle of and solidarity among liberation theologians. Moreover, it foregrounds what is at the heart of this book. Ordinary Black people and their churches and religious leaders forged a novel ß W. S. Maney & Son Ltd 2014 DOI 10.1179/1476994813Z.00000000022 BOOK REVIEWS 81 witness of hope called liberation theology, rooted in the Black experience. The thinking, energy, and faith of the ordinary gifted the world with the extraordinary—a rational and passionate (i.e. head and heart) manner in which to name the power of the poor in history as co-laborers with God. Chapter 2 explains Black theology’s nature and purpose to solidify Reddie’s point about Black theology as both liberative practice and an academic discipline. Chapter 3 shows us what Black theology is by way of two distinct models of doing Black theology. One utilizes social theory and cultural and social analyses, and thus places Christianity in a broader cultural context, linking the faith to other theories. The second approach discerns how ordinary Black people understand and practice the faith and, from their grounded perspective, rethink the meaning of the faith. Chapter 4 takes on Christology, or the core dimension which is Jesus in Black theology. Throughout the growing history of Black theology, Reddie argues, Jesus Christ remains central to the discussion and witness of the practitioners of this discipline and movement. Why is that? His response enriches our thinking. Chapter 5 pushes us further with a nuanced debate on the role or lack of role of the Holy Spirit in the writings of Black theologians. How odd that everyday church folk and community people in the broader Black society rely constantly on the presence of the Holy Spirit to help them make a way out of no way. Yet Black theology, Reddie surmises, has been somewhat remiss when theological attention on the Holy Spirit (or pneumatology) and people’s social change has experienced a comparatively lesser systematic treatment in books. (Perhaps Black theology of liberation can, at this juncture, take lessons from womanist authorities on the subject, for instance such spirit-focused scholars as Karen Baker-Fletcher, Stephanie Y. Mitchem, Flora Wilson Bridges, Barbara Holmes, Teresa L. Fry Brown, Yolanda Y. Smith, Traci C. West, and Cheryl Townsend Gilkes). Chapter 6 signifies a proper way that Black people have handled a hermeneutics of suspicion towards reputedly common-sense notions regarding why Blacks are in their harmful predicaments. Such a warped view, Reddie demonstrates, has been unfortunately adopted in too much of White Euro-American Christianity. Such suspicion denotes a perpetual persistence with ‘‘why’’ interrogations of conventional wisdom. The final chapter helps the reader by pulling together the major threads articulated in the previous argument. And, like all good writing, the last chapter gives us something extra, an analysis of the Bible in today’s social ethics. The book began with a definition and history of Black liberation theology connected to ordinary people and the emergence of an academic discipline. The book ends with instructions for how the discipline can be re-energized for the transformative popular education of and practical change for ordinary people. Returning to the notion of Reddie as propagator of transformative education, this becomes most clear and most rewarding when each chapter includes participative exercises that can be utilized among ordinary people or in institutions of theological education. Again, here we detect the double direction of the book; that is to say, the interpenetrating fluidity of the people and the academy. And it is on the question of the ordinary people that I have only one quibble or, rather, a request. Because Reddie is such an intentional embodiment of both the people and the academy, it would help the reader if we had more transcript reportage of the people commented on in the diverse participative exercises in each of the chapters. What exactly did they say? What are more of their verbatim accounts? What accents and textures reflected their presentations of their own voices? Is it possible that their language could give us a sense of humor, anger, and so on in their thought processes? Perhaps this will be answered in Reddie’s next books. We look forward to his next publication. 82 BOOK REVIEWS MarKeva Gwendolyn Hill, Womanism Against Socially-Constructed Matriarchal Images: A Theoretical Model Toward A Therapeutic Goal. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012. 167 pp. $85/£55. ISBN 978-0-230-34065-7 (hbk). Reviewed by: Monique Moultrie, Department of Religious Studies, Georgia State University. mmoultrie@gsu.edu MarKeva Gwendolyn Hill’s Womanism Against Socially-Constructed Matriarchal Images is a concise, informative, and useful expansion to the disciplines of womanism and pastoral care and counseling. As a certified pastoral counselor trained in self-psychology and object relations theory, her work focuses on providing models for healing for African-American women. Thus, she recommends that pastoral counseling utilizes a sociological perspective that deals with the counselee’s cultural context. She seeks to deconstruct socially constructed images of Black matriarchs that stifle Black women’s emotional health as they try to live into these stereotypes. Ultimately, she states that the purpose of her work is to ‘‘develop a theoretical framework to enable the counselor to collude with the African American counselee, forming a therapeutic alliance against the socially constructed images and the role of the African American matriarch’’ (xii). Her first chapter lays out the main stereotypes she is urging readers to reject. Namely, she is concerned with the dominant culture’s view of the Black woman as emasculating her man and defeminizing her daughters, but she is also invested in dismantling the mythical images of the African-American woman as a ‘‘strong, physical, invulnerable, emotionally calloused’’ matriarch (2). Using Hegelian logic, Hill posits that establishing an accurate definition of Black motherhood that dispels these images is a necessary antithesis of this social construction, which then provides space for a synthesis move that preserves a more accurate image of Black women that is useful for the African-American female client and her counselor. Her work details how deeply destructive maintaining these myths is for Black women as she promotes three models of healing through the disciplines of self-psychology, womanism, and a theology of forgiveness. One of the work’s immediate strengths is Hill’s use of multiple disciplines that inform and enhance her healing model. She presents each theoretical move in accessible language using concrete case studies and even a sermon to illustrate her theoretical perspectives. She articulates and reframes Heinz Kohut’s self-psychology, Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s experience with social forgiveness in the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and even Daniel Moynihan, whose Moynihan report seemingly painted a grotesque picture of the Black family with its domineering female leader. By placing seemingly disparate viewpoints into conversation with each other, she provides a theoretical sophistication that gifts the reader with new insight and a new means of viewing the ‘‘unique’’ African-American mother–daughter dyad. Hill marks her theoretical synthesis moments through vivid cases from both her personal life and those of her clients. Her case studies are jarring examples of her theoretical analysis as they offer the reader a more concrete means of understanding some of the nuances of selfpsychology, object relations theory, and liberation theologies. Yet, even with the clarity provided from the case studies, it must be acknowledged that they are extreme instances of mother–daughter dynamics because they represent crisis scenarios where the mother– daughter dynamic has been perhaps irreparably damaged by a particular situation. While the examples from her and her clients’ narratives offer clear illustrations for the reader, one is left to wonder if the theoretical moves she offers are useful in non-crisis circumstances or in conditions that are not as death-dealing as those provided in the text. Hill utilizes the scenarios to illustrate various psychological concepts, but will counselors unfamiliar with the matriarchal images discussed find them useful? As a pastoral counselor, she writes her text to open dialogue between womanists and pastoral counselors and to offer counselors concrete tools for addressing issues that are BOOK REVIEWS 83 culturally specific to African-American women. She successfully accomplishes these goals as she provides numerous detailed paths towards healing and wholeness. A particular asset of the work is her discussion of forgiveness as a healing response. Hill articulates forgiveness as a necessary step in dealing with the reality that Black women are not meant to conform to the socially constructed images of matriarchy nor should they feel guilty or ashamed for rejecting these norms. Self-forgiveness and forgiveness of Black mothers who failed to meet those constructed norms is a means to redress the damage done by these stereotypes. Equally relevant is her addition of a theology of forgiveness to Kohutian theory because she advocates for a process of forgiveness that exposes shame and guilt and works toward liberating those oppressed by negative self-worth and dysfunctional relationships. Concomitant with the benefits of forgiveness as a healing paradigm, Hill offers the discipline of womanism as a means of translating the unique African-American mother– daughter relationship to counselors. Her work repetitively states that Black women must be moved from ‘‘matriarchy to womanism’’ because womanism allows Black women to deconstruct myths/oppression and redefine themselves and their people (57). However, Hill’s discussion of this move to womanism could be more richly described, given that one of the goals of her work is to create a bridge between womanism and pastoral counselors. For instance, she could rely more on actual womanist pastoral theologians/counselors such as Marsha Foster Boyd, Carroll Watkins Ali, Linda Hollies, Phillis Sheppard, Stephanie Crumpton, et al. who are already doing this work. More significantly, the promise Hill discusses from womanist methodology lies within the historical articulation of the discipline and not within the contemporary shifts in the field. She does not cite any womanist work beyond 2002, thus ignoring a groundswell of critical nuances in the discipline. A nuance that would have been helpful in Hill’s work is the return of third-wave womanists to Alice Walker’s womanist definition. For example, in Walker’s definition she describes two separate discussions between a mother and daughter. These imaginary conversations reflect that ‘‘what our mamas told us appears to be a sacred language between mother and daughter’’ (18), which is the backdrop for many of the book’s chapters. Utilizing more theoretical moves from later womanist works amplifies the benefits of womanism as a tool for pastoral counseling. Even though she does not discuss womanist Emilie Townes’ work on the cultural production of stereotypes as moral evil, Hill’s book serves as a wonderful complement to Townes. Hill’s exploration has significant implications for pastoral counseling and several other disciplines. Despite its few challenges and relative brevity, this text will well serve the academy and the practice of counseling. George Yancy, ed., Christology and Whiteness: What Would Jesus Do? London and New York: Routledge, 2012. 224pp. £24.99/$39.95. ISBN 978-0-415-69998-3 (pbk). Reviewed by: Anthony Reddie, Visiting Fellow, Aston University. a.reddie@aston.ac.uk The great James Cone, the ‘‘Founding Father’’ of Black liberation theology, has opined that ‘‘Theology’s great sin is that of silence in the face of ‘White Supremacy’.’’1 Cone has charged the White theological establishment with the sins of omission and commission in their lack 1 See James H. Cone, ‘‘Theology’s Great Sin: Silence in the Face of White Supremacy,’’ Black Theology: An International Journal 2, no. 2 (July 2004): 139–52. 84 BOOK REVIEWS of attention to the underlying theories and concomitant practices of ‘‘White supremacy’’ and privilege, which have been shaped by the superstructure that is Christian theological thought. It must be stated, however, that even in the midst of such an arid White theological field, as it pertains to critiquing Whiteness, there are some notable exceptions.2 The critical issue for me has not simply been the relative paucity of theological writing by White scholars that have sought to critique and deconstruct ‘‘Whiteness.’’ Rather, my concern has been the comparative lack of sustained engagement between White and Black scholars in addressing the ‘‘elephant in the room’’ that is ‘‘White privilege’’—until now that is! This text is an important marker as it brings together Black and White scholars in the joint enterprise of critiquing and deconstructing the often tacit and invisible marker that is Whiteness. Like all edited texts, the essays on display are somewhat varied in scope and, one has to say, quality, but taken as a whole, what we have here is a commendable piece of work that shines a penetrating light on the shadowy crevices of the White theological room. The conceptual framing of the book is that of Christology as it pertains to Whiteness. In particular, the strap line of the text provides the operative, generative theme, namely ‘‘What would Jesus do?’’ The book commences with a deeply insightful and penetrating introduction by George Yancy, who utilizes his own subjective experiences of worshipping in a White majority church as his point of departure in the attempt to shed light on the seemingly invisible contours of the shadowy figure that is Whiteness. Yancy outlines the central challenge of simply trying to mark Whiteness conceptually, given the often presumed ‘‘neutrality’’ and invisibility of its existence within the fabric of modernity and postmodernity. Yancy states, ‘‘I think about how whiteness, within this congregation, would, by implication be named and marked as a problem’’ (4). The editor’s introduction is an invitation for Black religious scholars to mine their own experiential, narrative insights as a way into analyzing the phenomenon of feeling oneself to be a problem when sitting within the critical gaze of tacit White normality. The truth is, ‘‘we’ve all been there.’’ We have all felt the piercing moments of critical concern when we have wondered ‘‘is it me, or is there something odd about this setting?’’ These feelings are intensified when we are the minority presence, as the contours of the socio-cultural milieu continue oblivious to our presence, trapped in their own selfconstructed world of White normality. The thirteen chapters that constitute the book include essays by Karen Teel (‘‘What Wouldn’t Jesus Do?’’), Laurie Cassidy (‘‘Grotesque Un/Knowing of Suffering’’), Cheryl Townsend Gilkes (‘‘Jesus Must Go Through Samaria’’), Moni MacIntyre (‘‘The Black Church and Whiteness’’), Jennifer Harvey (‘‘What Would Zacchaeus Do?’’), Rosemary Radford Ruether (‘‘Is Christ White?’’), Traci West (‘‘When a White Man-God is the Truth and the Way for Black Christians’’), Josiah Young (‘‘Who Belongs to Christ?’’), James Perkinson (‘‘Upstart Messiahs, Renegade Samaritans, and Temple Exorcisms’’), William David Hart (‘‘Jesus, Whiteness and the Disinherited’’), Anthony Pinn (‘‘Looking Like Me?: Jesus Images, Christology, and the Limitations of Theological Blackness’’), Shawn Copeland (‘‘The (Black) Jesus of Detroit’’), and Victor Anderson (‘‘The Mimesis of Salvation and Dissimilitude in the Scandalous Gospel of Jesus’’). All the chapters are connected with Christological explorations of ‘‘race,’’ racism, and the corruptions of White privilege. Some of the best essays are those that seek to address the central themes of Whiteness and power as outlined by the editor. Jennifer Harvey’s essay is of particular import as it addresses the generative theme of ‘‘What Would Jesus Do?’’ head on, but offers a critical semantic riposte, namely, asking what Zacchaeus would do. Harvey switches the gaze from Jesus to Zacchaeus because ‘‘Simply put, identifying with the divine 2 Two such texts that spring to mind are James W. Perkinson, White Theology: Outing Supremacy in Modernity (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004) and Alexander Mikulich and Laurie M. Cassidy, eds, Interrupting White Privilege: Catholic Theologians Break The Silence (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2007). BOOK REVIEWS 85 is about the last thing that a white person whose life is embedded in white-supremacist structures should be doing’’ (95). In a similar vein, Ruether’s essay offers a panoramic gaze on the development of Whiteness and its captivity of Christology in order to render the normalcy of its constructed identity as superior to other peoples of color. Ruether states, ‘‘By the late seventeenth century, the term ‘White’ replaces ‘Christian’ and ‘English’ to define the European settlers and differentiate them from ‘others’’’ (103). Ruether’s essay is perhaps the only work whose purview extends beyond the United States. In what is an overwhelmingly excellent text, one of my perennial criticisms of this (and indeed other similarly praiseworthy work) is the latent American exceptionalism that seeks to make normative its particular contextuality. As a contextual theologian myself, I have no problem with any work that seeks to explore the complexities of its formative milieu, so long as it states this as the basic intent of its modus operandi. Failure to do so renders its epistemological insights no less tendentiously grating than White theological work that often fails to name its contextual particularity and so purports to be universal. The issues at play in this fine work are features that find expression across the world. Whiteness and Christology are concerns that find echoes in Latin America, the Caribbean, Europe, Africa, and Asia. From a Black theology-related perspective, the book is at its best when the Black contributors are concerned less with addressing issues of Whiteness (à la Harvey, Cassidy, Ruether, Perkinson, et al.) but, rather, are deconstructing the presumptions that underpin Black Christian faith. Anthony Pinn’s essay is, perhaps, the most explicit in critiquing the limitations of predicating the quest of African-Americans for a fuller, more nuanced humanity solely on Jesus. Pinn also critiques the unhelpful binaries of ‘‘Black’’ (Jesus) and ‘‘White’’ (Jesus) that seem to pervade this whole project, reminding us of Victor Anderson’s charge of reifying a form of Blackness that becomes nothing less than the co-dependent offspring of Whiteness (169–79). Pinn’s critique of the utility of Christology finds echoes in the essay by William David Hart. Hart is also critical of the use of binaries such as ‘‘Black’’ and ‘‘White.’’ His essay sheds light on the fractured relationships between differing ethnic and cultural groups in the US such as BlackAmericans (this is his terminology) and Latinos and sees this as symptomatic of the complexities of ‘‘race’’ that extend beyond these binaries. Hart compares the complex dynamics between ‘‘Whites,’’ ‘‘Blacks,’’ and ‘‘Latinos’’ in the US as analogous to the ructions and disputes between the Romans, Jews, and Samaritans in firstcentury Judea (156–58). The chapter that exerted the greatest impact upon me was that provided by Traci West. West’s essay identifies the internalization of White Euro-American theological norms, by African-Americans, as militating against a comprehensive, liberative, Christological ethic for contemporary Black Church praxis. West states, ‘‘For a liberative Christology, historical references serve as a catalyst for crafting contemporary theo-ethics, but must do so without endorsing a trans-historical trans-mission of static, Christological ideas’’ (116). I read West’s plea for a wholesale re-evaluation of the Christological motifs adopted by Black Christians as a challenge to construct alternative paradigms that do not replicate or reify the oppressive constructs created by White hegemony (114–27). West’s proposal that Black Christians construe ‘‘The Blood of Christ’’ as menstrual blood is an important marker for a non-violent Christological motif that speaks to the habitual pain and embodied reality of the ‘‘least of these’’—namely, marginalized Black women, within the religio-political realities of the US. In conclusion, then, this is an excellent, creative resource that will disrupt and unsettle the visible, seemingly normative contours of Christology, coupled with the often invisible phenomenon of Whiteness. This book is an important milestone in the wholesale quest for a liberative Christology that is truly good news for all and not just some! 86 BOOK REVIEWS Ebony A. Utley, Rap and Religion: Understanding the Gangsta’s God. Santa Barbara, CA: Praeger, 2012. 190pp. $37. ISBN 978-0-313-37668-9 (hbk). Reviewed by: Mike A. Royal, National Director of TLG The Education Charity, MA in Black Theology, University of Birmingham, United Kingdom. mike.royal@tlg.org.uk Though I appreciate the lyrical and artistic genius of Hip Hop and have been deliberate in creating space for its expression by young people in an ecclesiastical context, the British Jazz Funk genre is my preferred locale, in terms of musical expression. However, if we take seriously the critical need to develop a praxis that relevantly engages with this generation, then we must take seriously the theological reinterpretation mediated through Hip Hop. Utley’s systemic approach enables the reader to explore paradoxical juxtapositions, irresolvable contradictions, race, gender, and commercial oppression and seeming emancipation, which are distinctives of the Hip Hop genre. Utley allows the moral malaise, while not the focus of this book, to provide an ambivalent backdrop. Many perceive Hip Hop culture and Rap music as being self-indulgent and morally repugnant. But an artist can glamorize homicide, narcotic abuse, and misogyny, and yet juxtapose Jesus both as companion and the source of their success, all in the same track. Utley explores this intersection through the locus of a supreme monotheistic God, manifested in two figures: God ‘‘out there’’ when the gangsta perceives a vast distance between humanity and God, and God ‘‘down here’’ that journeys with human beings in every vicissitude of life. The muted response of a God ‘‘out there,’’ petitioned to bring meaning to ‘‘what’s going on,’’ is in stark contrast to the God ‘‘down here’’ where the gangsta so blurs the lines, that God ‘‘down here’’ and the gangsta are sometimes the same person! The book begins by examining how the gangsta boldly approaches God with their predicaments, pain, and anger with a sense of ‘‘that’s just the way it is.’’ The numerous examples and the forms these ‘‘petitions’’ take draw you into a world where survival without the gangsta God is nigh impossible. The book asks you to reflect on whether the God ‘‘up there’’ in heaven and the God ‘‘in here’’ that resides in the heart, preached from pulpits of the church, can cut it for the gangsta’s journey! Utley explores how women rappers lyrically construct God ‘‘out there’’ as a replacement father figure and God ‘‘down here’’ as a daddy lover figure who morphs into a lover God figure manifested in the person of their male partners who are problematic by virtue of the demands of domination and submission they place on women. Utley, drawing heavily on the influence of theologian Anthony Pinn, draws out the worrying redemptive suffering themes from a womanist perspective. Utley’s exploration of female artists who have appropriated Psalm 27 within their lyrical content is clever, considered, thought provoking, and revealing. While the book as a whole deals sympathetically with Rap artists, Utley is predictably tough on sisters like Lauryn Hill. Utley moves on to explore the relevance of Jesus for the gangsta. The writer analyzes how rappers identify with Jesus ‘‘down here’’ as a companion, riding in the back of a Cadillac, a crucified martyr who understands the oppressed plight of the Black man, and as a commodity expressed on lavish crosses worn by the artists. Utley, in a pen stroke of genius, describes it as ‘‘Hanging out with Jesus, hanging on a cross as Jesus and hanging Jesus pieces around their necks’’ (67)! For the gangsta, a Black Jesus offers assistance but not systemic change. Utley’s vivid exploration of this depiction of Christ is a challenge to every practitioner working at the pastoral and popular level to raise their game and consider the systemic impact of sin on the gangsta over the personal impact of sin, which is so often the focus of the pastor! In the chapter ‘‘Dealing with the Devil,’’ Utley invites the reader to redefine what we mean by blasphemy. The devil is often manifested to the gangsta as tempter, but mediates the gangsta environment through the trickster/badman motif. The theme is further explored in BOOK REVIEWS 87 the penultimate chapter, ‘‘Godly Power.’’ Utley states that, ‘‘As God ‘down here’ black men gain power over white supremacy through self-deification’’ (93) as the gangsta resists oppression and existing hierarchies and regulates intimate relationships. Once again this thorough, provoking exploration allows this reader to compare and contrast a similar appropriation of Godly power in a church context. Rap and Religion is a compelling read. It will provoke the reader to examine their attitude to a genre that arguably has hegemony in popular culture. Utley vividly describes some of the video footage referred to, enabling the reader to follow the line of academic argument. But there are times when you will simply need to ‘‘YouTube’’ a track. Utley enables the reader to recognize that the Hip Hop genre has reinterpreted a Jesus with a strong survival/ elevation ethic as opposed to a liberation ethic, helping the gangsta ‘‘to make it through’’ and embrace success. An outstanding book and a must-read for every academic and practitioner serious about engaging popular culture in an urban context. Velma E. Love, Divining the Self: A Study in Yoruba Myth and Human Consciousness. University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2012. 160pp. $52.95. ISBN 978-0271-05405-6 (hbk). Reviewed by: Michael D. Royster, Prairie View A&M University, WR Banks 234, Texas. mdroyster@pvamu.edu As part of the Signifying Scripture book series, Velma Love’s Divining the Self builds on one of her previous works entitled ‘‘The Bible and Contemporary African American Culture: Hermeneutical Forays, Observations, and Impressions,’’ a chapter in African Americans and the Bible: Sacred Texts and Social Textures edited by Vincent L. Wimbush. Instead of presenting a Biblical interpretation through communal immersion (as opposed to merely using traditional textual hermeneutics) , the author accomplishes the same end with the oracles of Ifa of traditional Yoruba spirituality within the context of the African Diaspora in the United States. The book’s content is derived from interviews, participant observation, and ethnography. Early in the text, Love presents scriptural literalism as epistemologically flawed, especially as applied to non-Western concepts. The primary data which supports the book’s content derives from direct involvement with a traditional Yoruba spirituality community in New York, and a village in South Carolina. Love discusses how Santeria functioned as a means for enslaved Cubans to preserve aspects of their African cultural heritage through an enculturation process which included elements of Roman Catholicism and its accompanying folkways. Furthermore, Love references ‘‘the Blues’’ as comparable to ‘‘Negro Spirituals’’ as typified with metaphors which function as a means of communication and survival for those who endure widespread oppression. With both claims combined, this contributes to dispelling the myth that traditional African culture appears to have withstood the perils of slavery and colonialism in the Roman Catholic dominion of Latin America more so than in the post-puritanical North America. Throughout the text, the author elaborates on the significance of divination and the role that it plays in people’s lives. For example, Love explains the connection between common Orisha attributes and the wave of social movements such as the ‘‘Black Power’’ movement of the 1960s and the 1970s in the US. A primary function of divination rests in the individual’s exploration of the depths of the dimensions of ‘‘the self.’’ The author stresses that only priests have been authorized to interpret the configuration of the cowries, but furthermore such interpretations have been contextualized. In addition, the author relates 88 BOOK REVIEWS the significance of the Ifa with Black feminism through presenting how three common feminine orishas, Oshun, Yemonja, and Oya, function as distinct manifestations of different life phases. In Chapter six, Love draws parallels between the feminine orishas and physical forces and human activity. The author furthermore presents the concept of men with feminine orishas, and how men have left the priesthood in order to avoid potential widespread stigmatization attributed to having a norm defying cross-gendered aspect of their personalities publically known. However, the author does not raise the issue of women with male orishas. The book, however, does not focus on specific dogmatic beliefs or creeds, but rather on applications in daily life. The book presents the practical aspects of the various orishas. Traditional Yoruba spirituality as a religion does not emphasize active proselytizing as a key feature in the way that Christianity and Islam do; yet, it embraces new initiates as a means of strengthening the community. The text emphasizes that traditional Yoruba spirituality embraces community more so than individualism. In one of the author’s findings, a significant proportion of the initiates were introduced to the Yoruba tradition through the arts, specifically drumming and dance. In chapter four, Love raises the issue of cultural significance in the establishment of the Oyotunji Village in South Carolina as a means of triumph over one of the consequences of the Middle Passage. Unlike Santeria, which partially masks its African elements behind Roman Catholic saints and relics, the Oyotunji Village signifies the total recovery of the forbidden, and a culture that suffered intended eradication. The author references Anthony Pinn’s address towards scholarship regarding AfricanAmerican Christianity as ‘‘normative,’’ such that Christianity becomes the standardized means for evaluating the diverse and complex forms of religious expression. Owing to such social marginalization, ‘‘the Orisha tradition has often been practiced in concealment’’ (70), which further complicated the author’s tasks of gathering relatively scarce historical documents. Love’s exemplary ethnographic research could benefit from a further elaboration on accounts of social pressures which discourage initiates from overt expressions of their spirituality as a marginalized group. According to Stephen Prothero, traditional Yoruba spirituality and its various forms rank sixth among the leading ‘‘rival eight’’ religions (3) worldwide in terms of numerical representation of affiliation. Yet, courses in World Religions typically cover the three Abrahamic faiths along with Hinduism and Buddhism, and omit Latin America and the entire continent of Africa. Nevertheless, the book, as one of the few books that focuses on the practices and experiences of traditional Yoruba spirituality in the context of the US, challenges conventional epistemology in favor of a means of knowledge through an active approach towards textual understanding. Therefore, Divining the Self would serve as an important primer for studies of indigenous spiritual movements and their primarily African-American adaptations. Dwight N. Hopkins and Edward P. Antonio, eds, The Cambridge Companion to Black Theology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. 350 pp. £19.99/$ 30.99. ISBN 978-0-521-70569-1 (pbk). Reviewed by: Frederick L. Ware, Howard University School of Divinity, Washington, DC 20016, USA. flware@howard.edu The Cambridge Companion to Black Theology is a collection of essays, edited by Dwight Hopkins and Edward Antonio, that ‘‘[presents] a systematic exposition of the key doctrines BOOK REVIEWS 89 of black theology as a discipline’’ and ‘‘[delves] into the forms of black theology indigenous to [various] countries’’ (xiii). In addition to the editors’ own essays, the collection contains essays from twenty distinguished scholars, mostly males, in the field of Black theology. The essays’ combined emphasis is on the articulation of the methodology and basic categories of Black theology. Wherever Black theology is read and taught, especially in academic courses, the editors are confident that the Cambridge Companion to Black Theology can serve as a supplement to the many excellent constructive works in Black theology and the bestselling two-volume anthology of historical documents in Black theology edited by James H. Cone and Gayraud S. Wilmore (xiv). The Cambridge Companion to Black Theology is divided into three parts. The essays in Part I review and assess the history and social factors that gave rise to Black theology as well as the events and innovations within the field of Black theology that explain (or will promote) its growth and development. In Dwight Hopkins’ essay (chapter 1), he offers an overview of the history of Black theology and identifies five features common to Black theologies from around the world. Those common features are: (1) the recognition of liberation as the norm, (2) an examination of social reality and religious belief from the experience of Black people, (3) focus on issues affecting the poor, (4) communication to a large audience, that is, to the church and beyond the church, and (5) treatment of Blackness as a social construct (16–17). Gayraud Wilmore’s essay (chapter 2), focusing on the US, describes the rise of Black churches and Black theology in relation to the phenomenon of Black religion. According to Wilmore, Black religion is rooted in African traditional religions and characterized by the complementary themes of survival, elevation, and liberation (20–21, 23, 27–28). In chapter 3, in view of the fact that there are multiple forms of liberation theology, Edward Antonio raises the question: ‘‘In what way is black theology related to liberation theology?’’ (35). Antonio’s answer is that Black theology is related to liberation theology by virtue of its analysis of oppression, emphasis on liberation, and commitment to justice, equality, and human fulfillment (41–42). In chapter 4, Linda Thomas argues for the use of social science methodologies in Black theology. According to Thomas, the holistic approach of womanist theology, as she illustrates in her work, already invites this kind of integration of theology and the social sciences (48–49). Delores Williams, in chapter 5, she describes the methodology of womanist theology and identifies its similarities with Black theology. According to Williams the three poles at which womanist theology and Black theology are similar or different are: the Bible and Black liberation (the Exodus Story versus the Hagar Story), the Black experience (a singular narrative of Black experience versus a plurality of narratives that recognizes Black women’s experience), and the task of theology (the movement from academy to church versus the movement from the lived theology in the Black community to its articulation in the academy) (65–71). The essays in Part II clarify the ideas and doctrinal categories basic to Black theology. The topics covered in Part II are God, Christology, Pneumatology, Theological Anthropology, Sin, Theodicy, the Doctrine of Scripture, Church and Ministry, and Eschatology. In Dennis Wiley’s essay (chapter 6), he discusses three aspects of and the attending critical issues surrounding Black people’s belief that God takes sides in human struggles, that God is a liberator, and that God is Black (79–88). In chapter 7, Julian Kunnie depicts Jesus as healer of the earth and the oppressed (105). Kunnie locates Jesus in Coptic Christianity which he claims is influenced by ancient Egyptian beliefs revolving around Horus the Savior-Child born from Osiris (the Resurrected Redeemer) and Isis (Holy Mother), with the three of them forming a Trinity (94–97). In chapter 8, Garth Baker-Fletcher examines the pneumatologies of James Cone, J. Deotis Roberts, Dwight Hopkins, and Karen Baker-Fletcher. In Riggins Earl’s essay (chapter 9), focusing on theological anthropology (namely the concept of human purpose), Earl addresses the question: What does Jesus’ command of self-denial say about the self-worth of the oppressed who are already, in one sense, denied full expression 90 BOOK REVIEWS of self? (126). According to Earl, whether the oppressed choose or reject the option, Jesus has acknowledged them as free moral agents, which is something that their oppressors have not done (138). James Cone, in chapter 10, argues that racism is a sin that has resulted in both the physical and spiritual death of millions of people (144). Cone speculates on the reasons for which Whites avoid talk about racism and offers ways for them to break their silence on racism (153–54). In Allan Boesak’s essay (chapter 11), noting that the question of suffering and God’s goodness is present in the Black experience everywhere in the world, he identifies and describes two important features of theodicy in Black theology: (1) the belief that sinful humans, not God, are the cause of Black suffering, and (2) the emergence of the theodicy question from Black people’s experience of ‘‘encounter’’ with God rather than from a philosophical or theoretical framework (161–62). According to Boesak, Black theologians seeking to address the theodicy question must move beyond their preoccupation with the sinful acts of White racism to now confront the atrocities and inhumanity that Black people are committing against each other (164–65). In chapter 12, Michael Brown argues that the Bible is and should remain an important source for Black theology. With increased acumen in critical methodologies for biblical interpretation, Black theologians may advance their project of recovering the full humanity of Jesus and the significance of the Incarnation for liberation. In Jeremiah Wright’s and Cyprian Davis’ essays (chapters 13 and 14), they show that there is no monolithic Black theology but rather two overlapping and sometimes conflicting Black theologies in the academy and church (184). According to Wright, the Black theology in Black Protestant churches that is mainly oral, praxis-driven, and centered on the themes of liberation, transformation, and reconciliation has been ignored or, if recognized, unappreciated by Black theologians in the academy (193–95). Davis shows a vibrant tradition of prophetic social consciousness and liberation thought and praxis in Black Catholic churches and organizations in the United States (205–208). J. Deotis Roberts, in chapter 15, takes an autobiographical approach to explain the topic of eschatology in Black theology. Roberts shows how God’s revelation of the end towards which God is creating and moving the universe (inclusive of human beings) has inspired him to value life (his and that of others) and to work for the liberation and reconciliation of persons in the community (214–18). The essays in Part III examine the construction of Black theology in various contexts from around the world. In Mokgethi Motlhabi’s essay (chapter 16), he describes the stages in the history of Black theology in South Africa and addresses the question of the relation of South African Black theology to African theology. In chapter 17, Anthony Reddie describes the emergence of Black theology from the experience of Blacks who migrated from Africa and the Caribbean islands to Britain between 1948 and 1965. Reddie goes further to discuss the contexts and challenges from which Black theology in Britain is being done: (1) from Blackled Pentecostal churches and (2) from Black caucuses within White historical churches (i.e. Anglican, Methodist, and Reformed). Walter Passos, in chapter 18, describes the emergence of Black theology in Brazil. According to Passos, the major obstacle to Black theology in Brazil is the fundamentalism and materialism of Pentecostal churches which can be overcome if Black theologians in Brazil will find inspiration in the ancient Black civilizations that flourished before the age of Black peoples’ contact with White Europeans (251–52, 254). In Raúl Suárez Ramos’ essay (chapter 19), he tells the story of his involvement in the Black theological movement in Cuba. He describes the racism of North American Protestant churches that established missions in Cuba and the support of African-American theologians for critique of this religiously sanctioned racism in Cuba (258–62). In chapter 20, Noel Erskine describes the rise of Black theology in Jamaica from the teachings of Marcus Garvey and the Jah (God) Movement of Rastafarianism. In chapter 21, Ann Pattel-Gray describes the rise of Black theology, known also as Aboriginal theology, in Australia. In addition to providing a brief history about this BOOK REVIEWS 91 movement in Australia, Pattel-Gray details the methodology of Aboriginal theology (285– 95). In Edward Antonio’s essay (chapter 22), he argues that Western modernity is inseparable from European imperialism and thus construes Black theology as a form of postcolonial theology (299). In the concluding essay (chapter 23), James Evans identifies three areas of challenge and opportunity for Black theology: (1) the relation of Black theology to other academic disciplines, especially the natural sciences, (2) theological interpretation of new religious movements, mainly Pentecostal and Charismatic, among Black peoples around the world, and (3) the reach of American imperialism around the world (310, 311, 313, 317). In spite of the several good essays, The Cambridge Companion to Black Theology exhibits three weaknesses. First, there is a conspicuous absence of female scholars. Only three of the twenty-two contributors are female. This under-representation of women reinforces the dichotomy and rivalry between Black theology (as a male enterprise) and womanist theology (as female enterprise). This exclusion of women may be intentional. There is already a Cambridge Companion to Feminist Theology. Maybe there are plans for a Cambridge Companion to Womanist Theology. If so, the two volumes on Black theology and womanist theology will be a valuable resource for systematic theology from a Black perspective. Second, the essays are mostly historical and autobiographical. Two essays in Part I are devoted to historical overview. Still, this history is repeated in several of the essays. The exclusion of this repetition and more focus on conceptual analysis and articulation of methodology would have strengthened the book. Third, in spite of the reasonable organization of the book, it lacks balance. There is uneven treatment of the topics. Some essays are more rigorous than others. There are two strengths of The Cambridge Companion to Black Theology. First, the book demonstrates clearly that Black theology is not a single-issue or single-topic enterprise. Various topics are presented and examined. The book is a good supplement for Black theology courses or other courses in religious studies and theology that may be improved by time and attention given to how Black people have dealt with (or would approach) some of the topics in systematic theology. Second, the book shows the several contexts of Black theology in various places in the world. The similarities and differences in these Black contextual theologies in no way underestimate the challenges of Black solidarity, that is, of mobilizing Black persons for resistance to oppression. The book is an essential resource for promoting awareness of Black theology as a global theology as well as facilitating dialogue between the several Black contextual theologies. Copyright of Black Theology: An International Journal is the property of Maney Publishing and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use.