In honor of Black History Month…

At this juncture in American history, it appears that there is a rather publicly internal identity crisis occurring. But what is perhaps most ironic about this so-called “crisis” is that depending on whose perspective of America, as an American citizen, is polled, one may willfully, myself included, concede that perhaps this “crisis” has been occurring since America’s inception almost 300 years ago.

Richard A. Horsley accurately portrays much of this identity crisis in the book In the Shadow of Empire: Reclaiming the Bible as a History of Faithful Resistance. In America, the historical premise of our existence on this land, this North American land, this Western land, is akin to that of the Israelites and their own exodus out of oppressive Egypt; British people looking to exert their own sense of self-determination after living under an imperial force felt compelled to set out and forge their own journey to Canaan. But this New Israel could not so easily forget about the Old Egypt it left behind an ocean away. If Rome, excuse me, England, was all these Pilgrims had ever known inclusive of ideology, sociopolitics, culture and religiosity, charting a new destiny, manifest under the guise of a divine ruler, could only be fully accomplished by attempting not to fully recreate the ills of England (that is why they left) on these new shores (and by default, create new ills?) while simultaneously assimilating people to the good of this New England as a hybrid of the old, i.e., Vice Presidential Christmas cards with quotes such as “And if a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without His notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without His aid?”(1) And thus, the seeds of empire were sown and soon to be reaped.

As a person with a heritage that is continent specific yet location ambiguous at best, except for the visible remnants, made by a complex organ, of a country and tribe that I do not know, I cannot help but believe that America is an empire, always has been. And that realization, in and of itself, hearkens to the histories of both the Israelites and the Romans. What I mean is the Israelites, and the Romans for that matter, felt a God-/god-given compulsion to conquer land and possessions that were predestined, divinely or otherwise, for themselves, preexisting tenants and all. So along with my Native American contemporaries, some of whom happen to have the same Cherokee blood running through them that Arthur Garfield McCrary, my great-great grandfather, did, and my African parentage whose names may have dialectical issues I have yet to undertake (for lack of knowledge knowing which ones), I am a twofold Canaanite. And yet, my life has been riddled with the urging to choose whether the new world taste of Israel or Rome could quench the ancient savory of Canaan’s manna.

I guess my palate still has some work to do.

(1)Joerg Rieger and others, Empire and the Christian Tradition (Fortress Press, 2008), 11.