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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?”

23,989 sermon illustrations through the Black Church Tradition lens

Poetry

Sonnet 42: That thou hast her it is not all my grief

That thou hast her it is not all my grief, And yet it may be said I loved her dearly; That she hath thee is of my wailing chief, A loss in love that touches me more nearly.

Universal

William Shakespeare

121 words

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Poetry

Evening Star

'Twas noontide of summer, And midtime of night, And stars, in their orbits, Shone pale, through the light Of the brighter, cold moon. 'Mid planets her slaves, Herself in the Heavens, Her beam on the waves.

Universal

Edgar Allan Poe

108 words

Poetry

15. Winter: A Dirge

THE WINTRY west extends his blast, And hail and rain does blaw; Or the stormy north sends driving forth The blinding sleet and snaw: While, tumbling brown, the burn comes down, And roars frae bank to brae; And bird and...

Ode On A Grecian Urn

Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of...

The Little Vagabond

Dear mother, dear mother, the Church is cold; But the Alehouse is healthy, and pleasant, and warm. Besides, I can tell where I am used well; The poor parsons with wind like a blown bladder swell.

Ode To Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run; To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees, And fill all fruit...

On Parting

The kiss, dear maid! thy lip has left Shall never part from mine, Till happier hours restore the gift Untainted back to thine. Thy parting glance, which fondly beams, An equal love may see: The tear that from thine eyelid...

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

120 words

Poetry

Sonnet 62: Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye

Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye And all my soul, and all my every part; And for this sin there is no remedy, It is so grounded inward in my heart.

Farewell and Defiance to Love

Love and thy vain employs, away From this too oft deluded breast! No longer will I court thy stay, To be my bosom's teazing guest. Thou treacherous medicine, reckoned pure, Thou quackery of the harassed heart, That kills what it...

The Lamb

Little Lamb, who made thee Dost thou know who made thee, Gave thee life, and bid thee feed By the stream and o'er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight, Softest clothing, woolly, bright; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice?

Nature's Hymn to the Deity

All nature owns with one accord The great and universal Lord: The sun proclaims him through the day, The moon when daylight drops away, The very darkness smiles to wear The stars that show us God is there, On moonlight...

518. Ballad on Mr. Heron’s Election—No. 1

WHOM will you send to London town, To Parliament and a’ that? Or wha in a’ the country round The best deserves to fa’ that? For a’ that, and a’ that, Thro’ Galloway and a’ that, Where is the Laird...

There Was a Time, I Need Not Name

There was a time, I need not name, Since it will ne'er forgotten be, When all our feelings were the same As still my soul...

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

160 words

Poetry

Sonnet on the Nuptials of the Marquis Antonio Cavalli With the Countess Clelia Rasponi of Ravenna

A noble Lady of the Italian shore Lovely and young, herself a happy bride, Commands a verse, and will not be denied, From me a wandering Englishman; I tore One sonnet, but invoke the muse once more To hail these...

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

106 words

Poetry

To Mr John Moore, Author of the Celebrated Worm-Powder.

How much, egregious Moore, are we Deceived by shows and forms! Whate'er we think, whate'er we see, All humankind are worms. Man is a very worm by birth, Vile reptile, weak and vain! A while he crawls upon the earth, Then shrinks to earth again.

The Moon

The moon has a face like the clock in the hall; She shines on thieves on the garden wall, On streets and fields and harbour...

Universal

Robert Louis Stevenson

Short94 words

Poetry

Across the Sea Along the Shore

Across the sea, along the shore, In numbers more and ever more, From lonely hut and busy town, The valley through, the mountain down, What was it ye went out to see, Ye silly folk Galilee? The reed that in the wind doth shake?

To George Anson Byron(?)

AND, dost thou ask the reason of my sadness? Well, I will tell it thee, unfeeling boy! 'Twas ill report that urged my brain to madness, 'Twas thy tongue's venom poisoned all my joy.

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

104 words

Poetry

From "A Rhapsody"

Sweet solitude, what joy to be alone-- In wild, wood-shady dell to stay for hours. Twould soften hearts if they were hard as stone To see glad butterflies and smiling flowers.

209. Song—M’Pherson’s Farewell

FAREWELL, ye dungeons dark and strong, The wretch’s destinie! M’Pherson’s time will not be long On yonder gallows-tree. Chorus.—Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he; He play’d a spring, and danc’d it round, Below the gallows-tree. O, what is death but parting breath?

Exhortation to Prayer

What various hindrances we meet In coming to a mercy seat! Yet who that knows the worth of prayer, But wishes to be often there? Prayer makes the darken'd cloud withdraw, Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw, Gives exercise to...

Sonnet 32: If thou survive my well-contented day

If thou survive my well-contented day, When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover And shalt by fortune once more re-survey These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover, Compare them with the bett'ring of the time, And...

The Indian Serenade

I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright: I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Hath led me--who knows how?

Winter

When icicles hang by the wall And Dick the shepherd blows his nail And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail, When Blood is nipped and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring...

Universal

William Shakespeare

Short90 words