This page was created by Charlie Serigne.  The last update was by David Squires.

Keys to the Archive: A Lesson Before Dying

Religion

By Charlie Serigne

Christianity and the Colonization of Africa

Christianity, especially as practiced in Europe, had a large influence on the colonization of Africa and the enslavement of Africans. As Walter Rodney writes in his book How Europe Underdeveloped Africa, “Christian missionaries were as much part of the colonizing forces as were the explorers, traders and soldiers” (252). While Rodney’s work focuses on Europe’s role in delaying development in Africa, he explains how Europe transferred many of its capitalist, not to mention Christian, institutions to North America. Those institutions took hold in what became the United States more fully than in most other European colonies, contributing to the genocide of the indigenous population and the exploitation of millions of enslaved Africans (86).
Kate Geneva Cannon opens her article "Christian Imperialism and the Transatlantic Slave Trade" by reminding the reader that religion was the key factor in convincing Prince Henry of Portugal to conduct the ruthless and violent expeditions to Africa. Prince Henry, Cannon writes, understood “conversion and enslavement as interchangeable terms, experiencing no cognitive dissonance in using Christianity as a civilizing agent for making converts into slaves” (128). Justification for that imperial Christian project emerged from the idea that Christ’s return was imminent, Cannon shows, providing Europeans with false justification for the commodification of over twelve million Africans taken to the Americas (129). In no uncertain terms, religion was a tool of oppression and colonization during the scramble for Africa. The effects are still felt today.

Religion and Black Community

Christianity played a major role in colonization, but it also became a source of comfort and community for enslaved people in America. Spirituality created a collective pride and solidarity that defied the indoctrination of slave owners, creating larger ideological goals for Black communities (Marable 248).  Religion, while communal, also provided enslaved people with individualism, so much so that enslavers began combating Black faith with racist interpretations of the Bible in an effort to maintain Christianity's ideological utility in justifying slavery. Historians have shown, perhaps unsurprisingly, "Blacks did not believe that their enslavement was preordained, nor did they accept the Ole Massa's notion that a godly slave was obedient, loyal, and hardworking” (Marable 255).

In particular, Black enslaved people identified with certain aspects of Christianity through biblical stories such as Exodus, a story that hinges on a people being led out of slavery and into a land promised to them by God. As Albert Raboteau explains, "by appropriating the stories of the Bible, especially that of Exodus, to their own story, black Christians articulated their sense of peoplehood” (34). Because God plays an active role within the Bible, particularly in constant intervention in human history through empowering the oppressed, enslaved people were able to find hope within their faith that God would deliver them out of slavery, a hope that "encouraged confidence that change was possible in this world, not just in the next, and so enabled black people to hope, and when possible, to act" (Raboteau 34). Christ in particular is a personal God, as his persecution at the hands of an oppressive majority resembled the Black experience in America (Marable 256). After her analysis of the role of Christian imperialism on slavery, Cannon remarks that it is imperative for Black Christians to reimagine Christianity in order to reclaim it from the white Christians who enslaved their ancestors (134). Such a reimagining can occur by reframing key biblical figures such as Jesus, Mary, and John the Baptist as figures of liberty and justice.

Preachers in Gaines’s Fiction & Catholicism in A Lesson Before Dying


The relationship between religion and community in much of Gaines’ writing is negative. (See A Gathering of Old Men, for example.) Most of Gaines’ religious leaders are morally poor, manipulative preachers who seek some financial or reputational gain through their role in their communities. However, Reverend Ambrose subverts this trend as a minister with a genuine care and knowledge for his people. While serving his community, Reverend Ambrose has witnessed the positive effects of organized religion on his congregation. He encourages connection with God above all, knowing the benefits of faith and service. With A Lesson, “Gaines has remade his weak, self-indulgent preacher into a tenacious, devoted servant who can truly minister to the community’s needs” (Nash 348). Writing Reverend Ambrose as an effective preacher, Gaines recognizes the church’s use as a useful institution for the community rather than simply as a tool for white oppression.

A key moment of religious content in the novel takes place as Grant plans and presents the Christmas program. We get the sense that it is a big event for the community because everyone shows up, this year in honor of Jefferson. Grant notes, "Many people who had never attended a Christmas or graduation program came to the church that night" (143). During the program, Grant’s students reenact the birth of Christ, reimagining themselves in the role of biblical figures such as Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, and the three wisemen. Conceptually, this aligns with Cannon’s emphasis on the necessity for Black Christians to reconceptualize Christianity in order to reclaim it from its bloody history. Additionally, this is a moment where we see the gap close between Reverend Ambrose and Grant. Here the church school, which normally alternates between roles, comes together as a single entity. While Grant is in charge of running the program, he invites Reverend Ambrose to start the event with a prayer (146). Even as the gap between the two community leaders closes somewhat, readers can see how their religious differences cause tension. Reverend Ambrose indirectly refers to Grant during the prayer, saying, "No matter how educated a man was... he, too, was locked in a cold, dark cell of ignorance if he did not know God in the pardon of his sins" (146). Essentially, Reverend Ambrose calls Grant ignorant for being atheist.

Although more positive about religion than earlier work by Gaines, religion remains a complicated factor in the novel. Catholicism, in particular, holds a potentially divisive role in Louisiana and in the novel. At the state level, for instance, consideration for Catholics determines Jefferson’s execution date of April 8th, two Fridays after Easter. As Sheriff Guidry explains to Grant, "It had to be before or after Easter. It couldn't happen during Lent" (156). Grant later learns that the governor originally signed an order to carry out the execution before Lent, only to realize they already had one scheduled around the same time. The reasoning for the change was explicitly political: “because of our state's heavily Catholic population, it might not go well to have two executions just before the beginning of Lent" (156). Political concerns about upsetting Catholics proved more motivation for extending Jefferson's life than the unfair trial or Miss Emma's wishes. Catholicism seems to have the potential to create conflict within the Black community as well. When Grant introduces Vivian to his aunt for the first time, Tante Lou grills her over her family and religious background. Vivian comes from Free LaCove, a Creole community of light-skinned Black people who, the town name hints, were free people of color before abolition. When Tante Lou asks if she goes to church, Vivian responds, "I'm Catholic" (114). Although a Catholic church is better than no church, as Tante Lou points out with reference to Grant, the religious difference implies other sorts of cultural, class, and ethnic differences that make Tante Lou skeptical of Vivian.

Grant Wiggins and Reverend Ambrose: Generation Gaps as Influenced by Religion

In an earlier typescript of the novel, Grant mentions asking, not inviting, Reverend Ambrose to lead the community in prayer before the program. In the final text, “asked” turns into “invited,” changing the tone of Grant's request. On one hand, there is a level of recognition added in this change of word choice. By “inviting” the reverend rather than “asking” him, Grant is requesting his presence more formally at the Christmas program. That level of formality signifies respect for Reverend Ambrose’s place in the community as a religious leader. However, there is some complexity in this shift of words. Because the Christmas program takes place in the church, Grant essentially invites Reverend Ambrose into the reverend’s own space of ministry. Perhaps the word change subtly acknowledges the church school as a communal space, belonging to the community as a whole rather than either one of its leaders. As such, the church makes a space for communal celebration and communal mourning. The Christmas program turns out to be an occasion for both celebration and mourning, as the "one lone gift" under the tree reminds Grant (147). Wrapped in red paper is a a wool sweater and a pair of wool socks for Jefferson.

Toward the end of the novel, tensions between Grant and Reverend Ambrose come to a head. Reverend Ambrose visits Grant in his room about three weeks before Jefferson's execution. By this point in the story, Grant has had more success breaking through to Jefferson and the Reverend wants his help saving Jefferson's soul. Grant is resistant to the idea, as he has been throughout the novel, but the Reverend is more insistent, making the argument that religious faith and a humanist education need not be opposed. In fact, acknowledging how people like Grant look down on religious leaders, Ambrose inverts the normal hierarchy of educational experience that lets Grant feel disinterested in religion. "No, you not educated, boy," he says to Grant. "You far from being educated. You learned your reading, writing, and 'rithmetic, but you don't know nothing. You don't even know yourself" (215). Here readers get to see Reverend Ambrose's acute insight into the people of his community more clearly than anywhere else in the novel. Not only does he know his parishioners, he also recognizes Grant's internal struggles to find a meaningful life in Bayonne. At the end of their conversation, the Reverend returns to the motif of education to explain how religion is not merely a lie, as Grant sees it. Religion and education both, Ambrose argues, should aim "to relieve pain, to relieve hurt" (218). But only Ambrose fully sees the pain and hurt of people like Tante Lou. "And that's the difference between me and you, boy," Ambrose says to Grant; "that make me the educated one, and you the gump. I know my people" (218).


As teacher and preacher, Grant and Reverend Ambrose both hold significant roles within their community. They have the power to help others make sense of violence and oppression. From Reverend Ambrose's perspective, as he explains it to Grant, they share a responsibility to help their community, to provide palliative care for those suffering from generations of grief and trauma. Reverend Ambrose seeks to mend pain through his ministry, and his comprehensive knowledge of his congregation contributes to this cause. As a teacher, Grant holds a similar influence on his community, but only through recognition of those around him can he begin to enact change. 

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