Racism's Trump Card: The Apocryphal Jesus

Christianity emerged within the Roman Empire, taking root in Judea before expanding across the empire through the infrastructure provided by Roman rule. Its spread was facilitated by imperial support, particularly after Emperor Constantine's conversion. By 380 CE, Emperor Theodosius I had issued the Edict of Thessalonica, making Christianity the official religion of the empire. Over time, Christianity supplanted pagan traditions and became deeply intertwined with political and military campaigns, particularly during the Crusades and the age of European colonial expansion.

Christianity served as a justification for European colonialism, including the exploitation and subjugation of African nations. Under the guise of spreading Christian doctrine, European powers such as Britain, France, and the Netherlands sought to "civilize" indigenous populations. This often meant forced conversion and the erasure of traditional beliefs and cultural identities. Missionaries and colonial administrators imposed European customs, seized native lands, and employed coercion and violence to suppress indigenous ways of life.

The ideology of colonialism in Africa was built on the "Three C's": Civilization, Christianity, and Commerce. The mission was not just to introduce European governance and economic systems but also to use religion as a tool for control. The long-term effects of this forced assimilation persist today, leaving many African and African-descended communities struggling with cultural alienation, economic disenfranchisement, and generational trauma.

One of the most enduring consequences of this religious indoctrination is the financial devotion of Black Americans to the Church. Research indicates that 51% of Black churchgoers either tithe—giving 10% of their income—or regularly contribute to their congregation. Given that the median Black household income in 2022 was approximately $52,000 per year, even a modest contribution of 2.5% amounts to around $108 per month per household. When applied across millions of churchgoers, this translates to an estimated $1.75 billion to $2.63 billion per month, or between $21 billion and $32 billion annually.

Now, imagine if even a fraction of this wealth was redirected into Black communities rather than church coffers. This financial infusion could revolutionize economic conditions, funding education, businesses, housing, and healthcare. It would eliminate much of the need for government aid, which historically has been misallocated to benefit White Americans over African Americans. The Homestead Act, for example, disproportionately granted land to White families while denying Black Americans the same opportunities for generational wealth.

This is why Jesus and Christianity remain racism’s trump card—no pun intended. Black Americans have been conditioned since birth to believe that an apocryphal figure demands 10% of their earnings. They are further bound by scriptures such as Genesis 2:17, which warns against seeking knowledge beyond religious doctrine. This belief system echoes the tactics of slave owners, who forbade enslaved people from reading to maintain their subjugation.

Fast forward to the 21st century, and figures like Donald Trump capitalize on this same mindset. During his campaign, he famously declared, "I love the uneducated," acknowledging that ignorance is the handmaiden of tyranny.

A populace steeped in faith-based submission is easier to control, ensuring that resources are funneled into religious institutions rather than community development.

Tithing, once a mandatory tax in various societies, is now a voluntary—though often coerced—donation. In Black churches, it is supplemented by offerings, frequently referred to as "Love Offerings," which fund building projects, debt reduction, or missionary work. Yet, despite billions flowing into religious institutions, the Black community sees little tangible return on investment. The church continues to flourish while economic conditions for Black Americans remain stagnant.

If the 35 million Black Christians in the United States redirected just half of their estimated $25 billion in annual donations—$12.5 billion—into their communities, they could build self-sustaining infrastructures. Schools, businesses, and healthcare facilities could thrive, eliminating reliance on a government that has historically marginalized them. Meanwhile, White America resists aiding Black communities not out of malice alone, but also because much of the funding intended for lower-income families is redirected to poor White Americans, who outnumber African Americans at least three to one.

The sobering reality is that as long as the majority of Black Americans continue to believe in a literal Jesus—an invention of Western mythology—they will remain ensnared by the very system that oppresses them. These devout believers must awaken to the economic manipulation at play and cease the billion-dollar hemorrhaging into institutions that do nothing to improve their daily lives.

The church has failed to uplift the Black community in any meaningful way, proving itself to be an instrument of control rather than liberation.

In conclusion, Christianity, as it has been taught to Black Americans, functions as a mechanism of economic and intellectual subjugation. The financial contributions made to the church yield no return on investment, perpetuating cycles of poverty and dependence. Until Black Americans recognize that Jesus is racism's trump card, they will continue to invest in a system that extracts their wealth and power while offering nothing in return. The path forward requires breaking free from religious conditioning and redirecting resources to build a future grounded in self-sufficiency and empowerment.

The Economic Paradox of Black Church Contributions

In the United States, Black Christians play a significant role in organized religion, both in terms of faith and financial support. With an estimated 35 million Black Christians, their contributions to churches amount to billions of dollars annually. However, this immense financial commitment raises an important question: What is the return on investment (ROI) for these contributions, particularly in communities that continue to struggle economically?

Black Americans are among the most religious demographic groups in the country, with approximately 79% identifying as Christian. Church attendance rates are also high, with over 60% attending religious services at least once a month. This deep-rooted faith tradition has translated into substantial financial giving, as Black churchgoers are known to donate consistently and generously to their places of worship.

Research suggests that 51% of Black churchgoers either tithe—giving 10% of their income—or regularly contribute to their church. Given that the median Black household income in 2022 was approximately $52,000 per year ($4,333 per month), even a modest contribution of 2.5% of income amounts to $108 per month per household. When scaled across the millions who give, these contributions total an estimated $1.75 billion to $2.63 billion per month, or between $21 billion and $32 billion annually.

Despite these staggering figures, the economic conditions in many Black communities remain dire. High unemployment rates, underfunded schools, and a lack of wealth accumulation continue to plague predominantly Black neighborhoods. This raises a troubling paradox: While Black churches receive billions in contributions, these funds do not appear to translate into substantial economic empowerment for the communities that sustain them.

Historically, Black churches have served as more than just places of worship; they have been centers for civil rights activism, social services, and education. However, in modern times, the extent to which churches directly reinvest in their congregants' economic well-being is less clear. While some churches do provide scholarships, food pantries, and community programs, these efforts often pale in comparison to the financial contributions received.

A closer examination of church expenditures suggests that a significant portion of these funds goes toward maintaining church operations, salaries for clergy, and infrastructure costs. Megachurches, in particular, command vast sums of money, yet the wealth generated does not always trickle down to improve the economic conditions of their congregants. Instead, many churchgoers continue to struggle with financial instability while their churches flourish financially.

If the core purpose of tithing and church donations is to uplift the faithful, then a fundamental question must be asked: Are Black churches providing an adequate ROI to their communities? Unlike investments in education, businesses, or homeownership—which create long-term wealth—church giving, as it currently stands, often yields no tangible economic return for the average congregant.

This is not to say that faith-based giving should be entirely transactional. Many people donate out of a sense of spiritual duty, community support, or tradition. However, when such significant sums are at stake, it is reasonable to examine whether these contributions are being maximized to create lasting economic benefits for Black Americans.

Consider what could be achieved if even a fraction of this money were redirected toward community-owned businesses, credit unions, or investment funds designed to build Black wealth. Imagine the impact of collective economic strategies that prioritize financial literacy, homeownership programs, and business development initiatives. Such an approach could break cycles of poverty and create generational wealth in a way that church donations alone have failed to do.

The challenge, then, is not in the act of giving itself but in ensuring that giving serves a higher purpose beyond sustaining church institutions. Financial contributions to religious organizations should not come at the cost of individual and communal economic progress. Faith and financial prosperity should not be mutually exclusive; rather, they should work in tandem to uplift communities holistically.

Black churches remain vital cultural and spiritual institutions, but the time has come for a reassessment of their financial stewardship. If these religious organizations genuinely seek to serve their congregants, they must prioritize economic empowerment as a core mission. Whether through church-sponsored business grants, homeownership initiatives, or cooperative investment strategies, there must be a shift toward creating tangible economic returns on the billions of dollars flowing through Black religious institutions each year.

As Black Christians continue their tradition of faith and giving, they must also demand accountability and strategic reinvestment. The future of Black economic prosperity may very well depend on whether the Black church embraces this challenge or continues to operate under a financial model that benefits institutions more than individuals. Only through intentional and transformative financial strategies can the billions in church contributions translate into real economic progress for the communities that need it most.

Investing in the Future of Black Excellence

The United States, despite its global prominence, faces numerous challenges that threaten its future stability. Among these issues is the persistent economic inequality, the decline of the social contract, and the increasingly divisive political landscape. But in the face of these challenges, there is a clear and promising path forward for Black Americans: investing in Africa. A shift towards African investment offers an opportunity for both financial success and the reclamation of a historical legacy of power and prosperity.

Historically, Africa has always been a land of immense potential. From the ancient empires of Egypt and Mali to the great cities of Timbuktu and Ghana, Africa has been home to some of the most prosperous and influential societies the world has ever known. These civilizations were not only wealthy but also cultural hubs, centers of learning, and powerful political states that shaped global trade and thought. The wealth of Africa was, and still is, immeasurable.

One of the most renowned figures in African history is Mansa Musa, the emperor of the Mali Empire in the 14th century. Mansa Musa's reign is often regarded as one of the richest in history, largely due to the vast gold reserves in Mali. His famous pilgrimage to Mecca in 1324 left a lasting impression on the world. It is said that Mansa Musa distributed so much gold along his journey that he destabilized the economies of several regions. His wealth, however, was not merely a product of gold, but also of an interconnected trade system that spanned much of Africa, Europe, and Asia. The city of Timbuktu, which was part of the Mali Empire, was an intellectual and commercial hub. It housed one of the most prestigious universities of the time, attracting scholars from around the world.

Today, Africa, with its rich history and potential, stands poised for a similar renaissance. If Black Americans were to redirect their investments towards the continent, it could catalyze a transformation of monumental proportions. The wealth of Africa, once again, could become a driving force for its advancement. The correlation between Black Americans, Africa’s rich history, and a new vision for the future is not just about wealth; it is about reclaiming a place of power and influence on the global stage.

The idea of severing ties with the United States is not one of abandonment, but one of reclaiming autonomy. Black Americans have long been at the forefront of shaping the cultural and economic landscape of the U.S. From sports to entertainment, fashion to technology, Black Americans have been the driving force behind industries that generate billions in revenue annually. However, the exploitation of Black talent in these sectors often benefits others, not the Black community itself. By investing in Africa, Black Americans could secure a stake in a rapidly developing continent with vast resources and untapped potential. This would lead to a new era of prosperity for Black people worldwide.

Black athletes, musicians, and entertainers—who have already made monumental contributions to American culture—could establish their own institutions, independent of U.S. control. Creating their own leagues, teams, and platforms would allow them to control their economic destinies and contribute directly to the economies of African nations. The creation of these independent entities would not only empower individuals but also uplift entire communities across the continent, redistributing wealth and influence.

The investment in Africa would go beyond entertainment and sports. It would extend into education, infrastructure, healthcare, and technology. Africa’s growing youth population, combined with its vast natural resources, offers endless possibilities for development. By partnering with African nations, Black Americans could contribute to the creation of industries that benefit both African countries and the diaspora, fostering economic independence and reducing reliance on external powers.

Furthermore, the political implications of this shift are significant. By fostering stronger ties with Africa, Black Americans could work to help stabilize African governments, build stronger economic frameworks, and invest in sustainable development. Africa’s natural resources are abundant, and with the proper investment, they could be harnessed to create self-sustaining economies. This would reduce the historical dependency on foreign powers and empower African nations to thrive independently. The United States, once a global superpower, may find itself relegated to a secondary position as Africa rises to claim its rightful place on the world stage.

Military and strategic alliances between Black Americans and African nations could also prove to be transformative. Veterans, as well as civilians with military experience, could provide invaluable support to African nations seeking to secure their sovereignty and strengthen their defense capabilities. With shared values and goals, the relationship between the African diaspora and African nations could evolve into a powerful, united front in global geopolitics.

The potential for Africa’s renaissance is immense. If Black Americans were to collectively redirect their resources, skills, and influence towards Africa, it would not just be a personal financial boon, but a step toward reversing centuries of exploitation and marginalization. Africa, with its rich history, vibrant cultures, and growing economic potential, stands ready for a new era. The comparison to the reign of Mansa Musa is not far-fetched—it is an achievable vision.

In conclusion, investing in Africa is more than a financial opportunity. It represents a return to the roots of Black excellence, a chance to build upon the legacies of figures like Mansa Musa and cities like Timbuktu. By severing ties with a system that has historically undermined Black wealth and potential, Black Americans could help propel Africa to new heights of prosperity and global influence. The time to invest in Africa is now. The continent is ready for a revival, and Black Americans have the power to lead this transformation. Together, we can build a future where Africa, once again, leads the world.