The Death of Western Christianity


Christians Christians Christians. This post is a very good example of why Christianity is on the decline in America. It is not on the decline due to moral decay, nor due to people straying from the “straight and narrow.” It is on the decline because people have opened their eyes to the Colonial/Crusade/Pharisee-based indoctrination that Westernized Christianity is so diseased with. Christians will point to the bad seeds of a certain group of people, in an attempt to prove that Christians bear more fruit, and the only fruit. Yet it is clear that this is not the case. The reason that Christianity, or Catholicism, is so far spread throughout the world is due to posts like these. The propoganda that people of other cultures or religions are barbaric and need “saving.” It is what soothed the consciences of the slave traders, the crusaders, and the rest of the power hungry, bible thumping, land stealing Christians of the past and present. It’s a sad case of shining false light, for many Christians are sincere in their efforts, and are only doing what they see as best. Nevertheless, there has arrived a time that these Christians fear. The church, as we have seen it, is dying a slow, but needed death.

The current institution, that we falsely label the church, is having its tables turned over, because the true children of light are tired of the many robbers parading as pastors and popes. They are tired of graceless evangelists, who use fear-based conversion tactics, who preach a message of freedom, when they themselves are bound. If you want to truly be as Christ, then feed the poor, forgive someone, pray for your enemies, and uplift someone.

I will end on this note: When you go into a neighborhood, another country, or next door preaching of Jesus with your words, and promises of heaven, and that person rather not hear it, it is not Christ they are denying, it is Christians. As Gandhi stated, “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”




Somewhere we stopped fighting. The comfort of church pews makes one more complacent, mistaking stagnation for peace. Frederick Douglass said, “Once you learn to read you will forever be free,” yet we are still bound. Somewhere we put the books down, and picked up the remote, which is a moat preventing us from reaching our inner Kingdom. Somewhere we decided to conform, allowing greed, perms, and self-righteousness to become the norm. Glorifying the slaves that are loyal to their master, as they falsely rap about freedom with chains around their necks. Pridefully wearing blood-soaked diamonds stolen from their mothers hands. How dare you profit off the death of your own roots! Somewhere we stopped seeking knowledge. Work on the plantation long enough to send our kids to college. False history, deadly pharmaceutical industry, prison-industrial complex, laws that hold no true power. See these degrees ain’t nothing but a hex, inspiring you to climb the social ladder, only to realize that it declines. A world system that defines one as more valuable based off a piece of paper. Somewhere we stopped listening to our spirits, picked up religious indoctrination, which makes us fear God’s true voice when we actually hear it. Did our ancestors die in vain? Somewhere Martin Luther got traded in for hoop dreams, and Malcolm simply ceased to exist! Somewhere young women decided Sara Baartman’s enslavement was worth the payment, and five minutes of fame. Somewhere Willie Lynch succeeded, less melanin meant more heaven sent.

Somewhere we stopped believing in the deceit of these Europeans. Now when you kill one of us, we all start bleeding. Now is not the time to pull the wool back over your eyes. As Mr Heron stated, “The revolution will be live.” 400 years of genocide, it’s time the system died. The final hour has arrived, Ms. Hill, because we’re tired of them killing our prophets, Bobby. It’s time for the mental and physical liberation, Mr. Garvey.

All praises to the Most High, because somewhere.. We are free.



How far can you run before you make it to the edge?
Running from the lies,
Or is it by them I’m being led?
Close to the ledge.
Desiring to fly.
Do these wings lack the strength to carry?
Such a heavy soul!
I shall never know what’s ahead.
There’s a voice in my spirit,
Have I heard this voice before?
“Let the Wind be your strength, by faith you will soar.”
My heart weakly beats.
Am I falling,
or free?



Enemies all around, unaware of how they’ve injured me. But within resides a greater entity. In the world there are more additions than subtractions, trying to deter me from my mission. Like David, I’ve got the chance to kill, but I rather do His will. That’s why mercy is my answer, to the evil thats running rampant like cancer. They’re waiting for me to fall, but don’t they know that they’re beautiful?

Many times I have stumbled, journeying through this jungle. Resenting every rock, and storm that’s come my way. Until I realized it is You who creates all the paths that I take. Every scrape, every bruise, preparing me to be used. Every hurt, and barren desert, creating a thirst that can only be quenched by Living Water. For Dead Seas cant deliver enough lost scrolls to help find You. To my spirit you speak, with a voice so powerfully gentle, I find strength where I am weak. Though I fall, you remind me that I’m beautiful.

A love so unique, arms so outstretched, I have no choice but to run into Your chest. A grace so deep, faithfulness so wide, no matter where I turn it is within You that I reside. You’ve given clear vision to these eyes, that I may see my enemies, as You see me. Beautiful, so beautiful.

Flowers longing to be watered. Birds with dreams to fly. Weeping souls, desiring to live and not die. Children trapped in adult bodies, still broken from the pain of their youth. Misunderstood outcasts, wondering if they have a purpose, any use.

Oh God, if they only knew You. That in Your image they were molded, that their existence makes them chosen, to behold the Son that has risen, to cast out darkness, and remove us from this prison. To bring Truth to our hearts, that are so often deceived to believe that we have to work to receive the love of a self- sufficient Being.

Beautiful, yeah you, you’re beautiful.

The One


How can one call himself a child of God, if he never forgives one who has caused him harm? And how many times do we have to fail, before we realize the stones we throw only condemn ourselves? Grace is a river with an undending flow, but most serve a god who will dam those who can’t swim. Drowning in flaws, the lifevest of perfection only weighs one down. A gift isn’t a gift unless it is given. When one finally stops swimming, is fully surrendered, only then is he completely immersed in mercy that no curse can reverse. For who in perfect health calls a doctor, and who that is righteous needs God? Can a lame man walk, can a mute man talk, can the deaf hear? Can one who lacks, make himself whole? No. Thats what makes the Savior so beautiful. For while we were without light, he became our shining glory. Where the story seemed to be coming to a close, he opened the curtains. Who is He that gives victory to His enemies? Who is He that washes filthy feet? What earthly king ever crowned a slave? What earthly god ever gave without first being paid? None! Beloved, that is what makes Jesus, the One.

70 times 7


If I ever leave you puzzled, or seem distant

I’m just journeying my soul, looking for the missing pieces

Memories of where I first lost them, never cease to exist when

Recent pain make me re-live the time we turned the T.V off

Read an alligator book

Daddy was leaving

Or when

My first boyfriend ignored me in public

Our relationship wasn’t worthy to be displayed

Or when

Blood betrayed and laid with the first person I truly adored

When promises were broken

Hurtful words spoken

Each negative moment chipped away a part of me

Until negativity became apart of me

Masked in nonchalance, I couldn’t care more

No, really, I couldn’t have cared more

It reached its greatest depth

It’s what built the walls

Until one day, I heard a hammer

Someone trying to break through

This Being pierced a hole through my fortress

By it’s Light, I was consumed

All these lashings were preparing me

To be more like You

So my cheek will turn 70 times 7

Their burdens I will help carry

Their evil repaid with good

So if I ever leave you puzzled, or seem distant

I’m just journeying my soul

Remembering that Love, was the only peace missing


As I view the dark clouds being carried in by the wind

I wonder what distant lands they traversed

Which fish lost some of its home

Who’s shade they provided from the sun’s rays

How pure they must have been in the beginning

Before existence filled them with unasked for duties

How heavy they look now, filled with burdens

Grumbling, it seems, as they enter in

Their strength must have shattered, or pride laid to the side

As their burdens begin to fall

What a gift their tears are, to all who catch them

Such a sacrifice, to carry pain, in order to give


“But ask the beasts, and they will teach you; the birds of the heavens, and they will tell you; or the bushes of the earth, and they will teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you. Who among all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? In his hand is the life of every living thing and the breath of all mankind.” – Job 12:7-10