ELECTRIFYING BLACK MINISTER LAMENTS SHOCKING SHORTCOMINGS OF OUR BLACK CULTURE

BLACK MINISTER LAMENTS SHOCKING SHORTCOMINGS OF OUR BLACK CULTURE

VERNE STRICKLAND Wilmington NC  August 22, 2014

When I first heard this electrifying black minister – James David Manning -- I was astounded. Never before have I witnessed a man of the cloth, an African-American trailblazer, speak with such power, using such candid terms as this, regarding  the failures and lassitude of his own people.

There is no guile here. No bitterness. I sense only a deep disappointment as he tries to shame black people in the world to get the hell going. It is a stunning lament that he shares. I don’t see a hateful man maligning his own people. He is speaking words with great shock value. I marvel at his strength and courage. He holds nothing back. I want to hear more  of his sermons and learn more about him.

·        James David Manning is chief pastor at the ATLAH World Missionary Church on 123rd Street in New York City, NY. Rev. Manning grew up in Red Springs, North Carolina, born to an African American family, and has been at ATLAH since 1981. ATLAH is an acronym which stands for All The Land Anointed Holy, which is Manning's name for Harlem 

        Biographical information provided courtesy of Dale Dutcher of Cary NC.

Transcript of Rev. James David Manning’s sermon and commentary on the African American culture:

“What’s wrong with you? You’re crazy – crazy! Black people – let me tell you something. If you never hear me again, they can kill me tomorrow. But let me tell you something. You need to look into the mind of a black man. I don’t  care who he is – he could be a doctor, he could be a great scientist – but he got no sense! You talk to him. You talk to a black man. He doesn’t  understand the world. He’s never built anything.

“The most the black people have ever done – they did it here in America but with white people’s help. When they were in Africa, they didn’t do nothing. When black people had Africa – that big continent over there – they never built one boat that was seaworthy – not one. There is not one monument in all of Africa. I know you’re talking about Africa. Egypt is not Africa.

“There were no great cities that were built – even before the first colonization of white people. Coming to the shores of Africa on the slave ships, black men did nothing – no sewer facilities, no houses above one level, and none of them made of stone, all of them were made out of grass and wood.

Before the white man ever got to Africa, the worst thing that could happen to South Africa was they gave it to Nelson Mandela and black folk. That was a great nation, not withstanding Apartheid. It was wrong, we all knew it was wrong. I’m against it, there should have been some other revolution though to get over Nelson Mandela.

Disease and crime is running wild in Johannesburg, killing one another over there. They are dying of sickness, the government is mismanaged, the people who ran it are now leaving because black folks don’t know how to run no nation. They don’t know how. And we have to admit it. I know you don’t like it. But you have to stop shucking and jiving. We got a problem!

"Nigeria is producing oil every year – yet the children over there are hungry and pot-bellied and walking barefoot. We have a problem! You talk about the Hutus and the Tutsis – look what’s going on in Zimbabwe now with Mugabi. We got a problem, black folk. Forget about Zimbabwe and South Africa and Nigeria – look at what you people have done in Harlem – you can’t even hold on to Harlem!

"We got a problem – black people don’t understand the world. What’s wrong with the black man’s mind? There’s something wrong with his mind.  You can get mad with me all you want, you can say what you want to, but you can’t prove me wrong. I don’t say this because I hate black folk, I say it because I love you enough to tell the truth. Now the only thing that is going to help us get out of this fix is going to be God."

Video:    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iUohFqmGDwk

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ONCE A POET You Better Bury Me or Have Me Smoked to Cinders

Verne Strickland

ONCE A POET  August 18, 2014

You better bury me or have

me  smoked to cinders

in some gutbucket crematorium

because when you leave

this earth I don’t want to be

around to see it

I would be socked and stoned and busted up

To hear the echoes of  your singin

And be grievin deep

Oh world without end

Amen

So hang in there and

outlast me I beg of you

and live a good life long enuf

to see me gone

I have checked your holy tracks

From  boyhood in the South

To NYNY

Where you said you

Could be yourself and were

And made me proud

So thence and hence

To Monet’s gardens

Where God spoke to you

Now in sweet slumberin hills you

Grow in grace and

Keep your little flock with love

And play your steel for God

And Mr. Graham

Attaboy my son

For that is how I’d have you be and best

Of all I know God feels the same

Talk the talk and walk  the walk

And run the run

And feed on grits and caviar

Make a joyful noise and

Come unto His gates with thanksgiving and

Into His courts with praise

While stickin always with the KJV