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Home›Traditions›Black Church Tradition

Black Church Tradition Illustrations

Liberation, exodus, and prophetic justice rooted in the African American church tradition.

Key question: “How does this text speak to the experiences of suffering, hope, and liberation within the Black community?”

25,923 sermon illustrations through the Black Church Tradition lens

Poetry

The Patriot: An Old Story

It was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like mad; The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway, The church-spires flamed, such flags they had, A year ago on this very day.

Universal

Robert Browning

223 words

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Poetry

The Echoing Green

The sun does arise, And make happy the skies; The merry bells ring To welcome the Spring; The skylark and thrush, The birds of the bush, Sing louder around To the bells' cheerful sound; While our sports shall be seen On the echoing Green.

Universal

William Blake

109 words

Poetry

The Pipes At Lucknow

Pipes of the misty moorlands, Voice of the glens and hills; The droning of the torrents, The treble of the rills! Not the braes of bloom and heather, Nor the mountains dark with rain, Nor maiden bower, nor border tower, Have heard your sweetest strain!

Universal

John Greenleaf Whittier

369 words

Poetry

Sonnet 93: So shall I live, supposing thou art true

So shall I live, supposing thou art true, Like a deceived husband; so love's face May still seem love to me, though alter'd new; Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place: For there can live no hatred in...

The Maple Tree

The maple with its tassel flowers of green, That turns to red a staghorn-shaped seed, Just spreading out its scolloped leaves is seen, Of yellowish hue, yet beautifully green; Bark ribbed like corderoy in seamy screed, That farther up the...

Remind Me Not, Remind Me Not

Remind me not, remind me not, Of those beloved, those vanish'd hours, When all my soul was given to thee; Hours that may never be...

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

269 words

Poetry

Epitaph for Joseph Blacket, Late Poet and Shoemaker

behold, interred together, The _souls_ of learning and of leather. Poor Joe is gone, but left his _all_: You'll find his relics in a _stall_. His works were neat, and often found Well stitched, and with _morocco_ bound.

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

Short91 words

Poetry

A Better Resurrection

I have no wit, no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stone Is numbed too much for hopes or fears.

Amoretti LXXIV: Most Happy Letters

Most happy letters, fram'd by skilful trade, With which that happy name was first design'd: The which three times thrice happy hath me made, With gifts of body, fortune, and of mind.

Through a Glass Darkly

What we, when face to face we see The Father of our souls, shall be, John tells us, doth not yet appear; Ah! did he tell what we are here!

Approaching Night

O take this world away from me; Its strife I cannot bear to see, Its very praises hurt me more Than een its coldness did before, Its hollow ways torment me now And start a cold sweat on my brow,...

Feelings of a Republican on the Fall of Bonaparte

I hated thee, fallen tyrant! I did groan To think that a most unambitious slave, Like thou, shouldst dance and revel on the grave Of Liberty.

A Farewell to Agassiz

How the mountains talked together, Looking down upon the weather, When they heard our friend had planned his Little trip among the Andes How they'll bare their snowy scalps To the climber of the Alps When the cry goes through...

Universal

Oliver Wendell Holmes

421 words

Poetry

Francesca of Rimini

FROM THE INFERNO OF DANTE. CANTO THE FIFTH. "The Land where I was born sits by the Seas Upon that shore to which the Po descends, With all his followers, in search of peace.

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

394 words

Poetry

Before the Birth of One of Her Children

All things within this fading world hath end, Adversity doth still our joys attend; No ties so strong, no friends so dear and sweet, But with death's parting blow are sure to meet. The sentence past is most irrevocable, A common thing, yet oh, inevitable.

193. On Scaring some Water-Fowl in Lock Turit

WHY, ye tenants of the lake, For me your wat’ry haunt forsake? Tell me, fellow-creatures, why At my presence thus you fly?

Epistle to Robert Earl of Oxford and Earl Mortimer.

Such were the notes thy once-loved Poet sung, Till Death untimely stopp'd his tuneful tongue. Oh just beheld and lost! admired and mourn'd! With softest manners, gentlest arts adorn'd! Blest in each science, blest in every strain! Dear to the Muse!

115. The Farewell to the Brethren of St. James’s Lodge, Tarbolton

a heart-warm fond adieu; Dear brothers of the mystic tie! Ye favourèd, enlighten’d few, Companions of my social joy; Tho’ I to foreign lands must hie, Pursuing Fortune’s slidd’ry ba’; With melting heart, and brimful eye, I’ll mind you still, tho’ far awa.

Bereavement

How stern are the woes of the desolate mourner, As he bends in still grief o'er the hallowed bier, As enanguished he turns from the laugh of the scorner, And drops, to Perfection's remembrance, a tear; When floods of despair...

To Marie Louise (Shew)

Not long ago, the writer of these lines, In the mad pride of intellectuality, Maintained "the power of words"--denied that ever A thought arose within the human brain Beyond the utterance of the human tongue: And now, as if in...

A Psalm of Life

WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN SAID TO THE PSALMIST. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real!

Universal

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

186 words

Poetry

Sonnet 4: Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend

Nature's bequest gives nothing, but doth lend, And being frank she lends to those are free: Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse The bounteous largess given thee to give? Profitless usurer, why dost thou use So great a sum...

The Spectral Horseman

What was the shriek that struck Fancy's ear As it sate on the ruins of time that is past? it floats on the fitful blast of the wind, And breathes to the pale moon a funeral sigh.

201. Birthday Ode for 31st December, 1787

AFAR 1 the illustrious Exile roams, Whom kingdoms on this day should hail; An inmate in the casual shed, On transient pity’s bounty fed, Haunted by busy memory’s bitter tale!

Universal

Robert Burns

473 words