In his book The Souls of Black Folk, W.E.B. DuBois speaks of a “double consciousness” he feels within himself.¹  Utilizing this language, DuBois articulates the tension he feels as both a black man and a citizen of the United States – two identities fundamentally opposed and yet embodied in one person. He writes, “an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.”²  DuBois’ internal tension also describes well the plight of Christianity in the 19th century. When one looks to the practice of Christianity in this tension-filled era there are two conscious natures to every outworking of the Christian tradition – one of oppression and one of liberation, one of exclusion and one of embrace, one of wealth and one of poverty, one of blackness and one of whiteness. This essay will seek to elaborate upon these dichotomies, these double-conscious paradigms, found in 19th century Christianity in effort to examine the extent to which Christian ideas, practices, institutions, and people were a force for greater equality in society, and the extent to which these were an impediment to the same. 

The most prevalent dichotomy found in 19th century Christianity was that of oppression and liberation. Colonial leaders such as John Winthrop boldly preached of an established hierarchy, a divine order in which there are those whom God wills to be poor and those he wills to be rich.³  This Christian imagination of a divine societal structure would remain a dominant narrative until the end of the Revolutionary War. In this post-war era, grassroot abolitionist movements were rising in the homeland of those being enslaved and brought to the United States. These abolitionist movements were fueled by a belief in a God who was on the side of the oppressed.⁴ Furthermore, contrary to Winthrop’s preaching, a strong pre-Abolition Quaker movement sought to fight against the oppression of the enslaved. Although earlier than the 19th century, these foundational imaginations would till the soil from which Christianity in the United States would grow. An example of such fruition may be found in Fredrick Douglass’ Narrative of the Life of an American Slave where he articulates the radical dichotomy of Christian practice.⁵  Douglass describes his faint hope that his master, after returning from a Methodist camp revival, would emancipate his slaves. Instead Douglass’ slave-master came back “even more cruel and hateful in all his ways.”⁶  Douglass gives a detailed and gruesome account of his master, an esteemed as a leader in the church and pious man, tying up a lame young woman for four or five hours and whipping her naked shoulders with a heavy cow skin before breakfast and then again after dinner upon her same raw back.⁷ Douglas articulates later in the same essay that this is not Christianity, and calling such atrocity the religion of America is the “climax of all misnomers, the boldest of all frauds, and the grossest of all libels.”⁸ Douglass, like DuBois, embodies the double-consciousness which DuBois will describe after Douglass death. Christianity is both the religion of the oppressors and enactors of violence, and also the religion of those who are being oppressed, marginalized, and violently acted upon. 

Another paradigm of oppression and liberation was found in the fight of women, both black and white, for equality and voice. The life and ministry of the 19th century preacher Jarena Lee exemplifies this well. Lee vividly describes her call to preach and divine encounters with God;⁹ however, the common ethos and theological position of the African Methodist Episcopal Church (AME) and its leader Richard Allen did not allow Lee to preach. She describes in The Life and Religious Experience of Jerena Lee how she would look back upon the experience and liken it to the story of Jonah – she turned from the Lord’s calling once but would not do so again.¹⁰The Christianity of the AME that did not allow women to preach was not the Christianity she would believe. Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham provides multiple examples in her text Righteous Discontent: The Women’s Movement in the Black Baptist Church, 1880-1920. In this text she describes a number of narratives in which women fought to have a voice in not only society, but their own churches.¹¹ Higginbotham deepens the complexity of the liberation/oppression schema by detailing the hinderances black women had to overcome from within both the black church as well as the societal constructions of the 19th century.¹² This is to say, the fight of the black community against a racist America (in some ways) masked the sexism found within the black community that was a part of the larger culture. However, it must be noted that this complex schema Higginbotham describes is a nuanced oppression. Unlike the blatant racism of white society, the sexism found in the black church was, in part, derived from the feminine perception of Blackness from the wider culture. In a society where it is understood that to be black is to not truly be a man, black preachers were hesitant, if not fearful, of allowing women to stand in positions of power. Because of this, Higginbotham describes, black women opened scripture and interpreted scripture with a new exegesis.¹³ Their logic was that “while the Bible depicted women in a dual image, it also portrayed good and evil men, and thus only affirmed woman’s likeness to man and her oneness with him in the joint quest for salvation.”¹⁴ Some accused women of being Satan’s instrument for mankind’s downfall. In response, Virginia Broughton tactfully wrote, “if woman had been Satan’s tool in man’s downfall, she was also God’s instrument in human regeneration, since God entrusted the germ for human redemption in Eve alone”¹⁵ In this complex outworking of the 19th century, Christianity has not only been the religion of the powerful and the oppressed, but also those who stood in the middle of this schema – both being oppressed and yet silencing the voice of others through biblical justifications. 

One may categorize another double-consciousness found in 19th century Christianity: the Christianity of exclusion and the Christianity of embrace. In this time, Christianity was used as a force of exclusion and exile – removing people from their homelands, enacting violence upon them, and silencing their voice. Christianity was also used as a means of embrace, of standing up for those being displaced, victimized, and silenced. Mary Hershberger documents the struggle against Native American removal being promoted and instituted by President Andrew Jackson in the 1830’s.¹⁶ On the other hand, Hershberger describes a reactionary movement which, through the lens of Christianity, saw this as a great act of injustice. Christian figures like Angelina Grimké, Harriet Beecher, and George Cheever would all fight against Jackson and his removal policies through different means. At a local level, religious periodicals endorsed petition drives against the Indian Removal Act;¹⁷  and at a social level, both men and women came together to equally voice their disproval for such a proposal.¹⁸ Most notably, Catharine Beecher would formulate ‘the Ladies Circular’ which appealed directly to women in asking them to join the political struggle against removal; and appealed directly also to biblical models of dealing with people in crisis, such as the account of Esther. 

The double-consciousness of wealth and poverty has existed throughout all of history, yet it finds a unique story in the growing industrialization of America in the 19th century. The concept of “contract freedom” deeply shaped the language of freedom in that it came to be understood as having the independence and ability to negotiate a contract. Heath W. Carter describes in his text Union Made the reaction of the Chicago churches to this new understanding, this new liberty.¹⁹ In short, the church was ferociously hostile towards labor. The rise in Catholics and immigrants in the United States, and especially large northern cities, was seen as a threat to the Church and State relationship in the US. These groups were perceived as lawless troublemakers and thus each group settled in their respective areas. The segregation of these groups created a church divided against itself. Wealthy churches located in downtown Chicago, filled with workers born in the US, celebrated the death of the Catholic and immigrant laborers who had churches scattered across various neighborhoods. However, while Christianity was being used as a tool of division, faithful Christians like Jane Addams and Mary McDowell were entering the most poverty-filled areas of Chicago in order to serve those in need. Jane Addams founded settlement homes such as Hull House,²⁰ and Mary McDowell moved to the Stockyard district, where the most-marginalized people lived in horrible conditions.²¹ McDowell’s time in the ‘back of the yards’ allowed her to be a public advocate for strikers in 1904 and for reform in the Stockyard district. Here again, we see two very different conscious natures of Christianity – one of violence and division, and one of self-donation and sacrifice for those in need. 

Lastly, the end of the 19th century made manifest one of the greatest underlying tensions found in Christianity in this time, the ‘race’ of God. While scientific advancements propagated the justification for black subordination and racialized slavery,²² Henry McNeal Turner publicly declared “God is a Negro!”²³ Furthermore, while figures such as Ida B. Wells protest the unlawful act of lynching,²⁴ propagators of the Social Gospel movement like Walter Rauschenbusch fail to make any mention of this great injustice in their grand social vision.²⁵ 

The double-consciousness of Christianity will not be resolved moving into the 20th century, but rather it will merely be presented in new and unfathomable ways. Half way through the 20th century, Howard Thurman, recognizing this dual expression of Christianity, will write of one consciousness being “Christianity” and the other “the religion of Jesus.”²⁶ Similar to Fredrick Douglass a century before him, Thurman sought to reconcile a faith that could be used for such violent oppression and yet also for such glorious liberation. If one were able to ask Thurman today whether the Christianity of the 19th century did more to be a force for greater equality in society or force of injustice, perhaps he would say, “Christianity is [was] impotent to deal radically, and therefore effectively, with the issues of discrimination and injustice on the base of race, religion, and national origin.”²⁷ However, to the man who stands with his back against the wall, Jesus of Nazareth is one who has stood in their place and not only survived, but flourished.²⁸ In short, one may see that in the 19th century many actions were performed, imaginations constructed, and ideologies furthered in the name of Christianity – some for equality, some for oppression. Utilizing the language of DuBois and Thurman, however, one must distinguish within the double-consciousness of Christianity what they are speaking of: the ‘Christianity’ of the powerful or the true ‘religion of Jesus’ which teaches not only survival, but flourishing for those who find themselves with their back against the wall.