The Black Male Handbook: A Blueprint for Life

1
Creating A Spiritual Foundation
By Lasana Omar Hotep
I had a dream I could buy my way to heaven When I awoke, I spent that on a necklace
-- Kanye West
"Can't Tell Me Nothing"
Among the running jokes in the Black communities: the amusement and amazement we share watching a recording artist who makes music about violence, sex, and drugs receiving an award on television and saying, "I want to thank God." The contradiction seems glaringly obvious. How could a person who glamorizes greed, misogyny, and violence be religious or spiritual? We are all sitting there at home wondering, "How can the same person whose lifestyle and artistic expression emphasizes hatred, materialism, and raw intimidation, be standing there onstage wearing a diamond-encrusted crucifix?"
Actually, this phenomenon provides an important insight into the complexity of Black male spirituality. The disconnection between what this individual practices and what he preaches (or believes) is not difficult to recognize. But recognizing a man who, regardless of his flaws, yearns to experience the unconditional love that only a higher power can supply may be more challenging. The source of this apparent contradiction can be traced to the way in which many of us are first introduced to religion and spirituality.
We are encouraged to worship from early in our development. But few of us are introduced to the concept of character development as an expression of spirituality. Some of us have become so focused on our particular religion that we lose sight of achieving spirituality. Religion is the set of rituals and practices used to recognize, worship, and seek communion with God. Spirituality is the manifestation of this divine connection in one's daily life. Think of religion as the vehicle and spirituality the destination. The destination is the ability to see aspects of God in our lives and to exhibit this awareness as we interact with our environment.
Although it may be easy for us to detect the contradiction in what a musician on an awards show does and says, it is often difficult to recognize it in our own lives. I first became aware of my personal contradictions at age fifteen. I was a fiery, up-and-coming Black Nationalist who thought he could change the conditions of Black life by overpowering people with Black facts. Iremember recounting a ciphering (informal discussion) session that I had in the school cafeteria to one of my mentors. I was excited to explain to him how I had "blasted" all the brothers and sisters with my knowledge, and how stupid I made them look. He simply asked me, "What do we call each other?" I replied, "Brother and Sister." My mentor then asked me whether my actions seemed truly "brotherly." Without further discussion, I got the point. Just intellectualizing or articulating a concept wasn't enough. I also had to demonstrate it in my behavior. There it was staring me in the face: I was talking about being a "brother" but living out the life of a sarcastic smart-ass. It's not enough to talk the talk, you've got to walk the walk. From that point on I've used the same test as a measure for self-criticism and for my evaluation of society -- especially religion.
I was not raised in a religious household. Growing up between Los Angeles and Long Beach, California, my family attended church primarily on two occasions: funerals and Easter. Unfortunately I attended my fair share of funerals. During the 1980s, Los Angeles was becoming the gangbanging and drug-slinging capital of the world. I had a father, uncle, aunt, and cousins involved in street life and they exposed me to some of the worst that the world has to offer.
Having these people in my life helped me to understand how young entertainers could embrace a lifestyle reflecting hatred while simultaneously professing a love for God. My family members were neither monsters nor soulless, uncaring people. They may have been into the streets neck deep, but they still wanted to be loved unconditionally. The love they received from family members was conditional and usually peppered with destructive criticism. But even in the midst of a destructive lifestyle, they turned to God for unconditional love.
But even as brothers seek this divine unconditional love, they who experience all the ugliness in the world still have issues with God. This is why so many Black males are absent from the church. Numerous articles, books, and community forums are held to address this matter. Truth is, some of these brothers are angry with God. Some are wondering where God was when they suffered abuse as little boys, or when they were mistreated as teenagers, or even now, when they are dismissed as shiftless adults -- regardless of their personal struggles and/or successes.