Resilience
Justin E. Giboney March/April 2026Culture war lessons from the Black church tradition.
Illustration by Robert Hunt
Charles Tindley was known as the “Prince of Preachers” because of his theological depth and dynamic oratory. The Methodist minister, and son of a slave, would use those and other gifts to compose world-renowned Negro spirituals and advocate for social change in the public square. He’d open soup kitchens and use his rhetorical flare to vehemently denounce the minstrel shows attempting to hide his people’s dignity. Through his words and dignified manner he’d prove his people were not caricatures; they were God’s image bearers even if some American lawmakers lacked the moral knowledge to see it.
Despite the poverty he faced in childhood and the oppression his people endured throughout his life, Tindley was determined not to be embittered by material poverty or the moral poverty of certain American institutions. He’d learn to rely on his faith to develop a moral imagination that saw beyond the trials of the moment, and he’d use his intellect to reveal the biblical and civic case against injustice.
His composition, “I’ll Overcome Someday,” was a psalm that explained how Christians surmount struggle and would define the spirit of a movement:
I’ll overcome someday,
I’ll overcome someday,
I’ll overcome someday;
If in my heart I do not yield,
I’ll overcome someday.
Within Tindley’s religious tradition, yielding wasn’t just to cower or quit; yielding also meant succumbing to despair or rage, which kept one from rising above circumstances. The moral of the song was about resilience—the ability to overcome difficulties in an upright and hopeful way. This Christian resilience is based on a devout belief in God’s character of righteousness and justice and His eschatological plan for all His children to be free from sin and subjugation.
Decades later, the song would be transformed into the definitive civil rights spiritual “We Shall Overcome.” For the Black church congregants who established the civil rights movement (the “civil rights generation”), Negro spirituals like these weren’t just nice melodic chants or a way to pass the time during protests. The songs were essential to the movement. They appealed to Christian principles and became a spiritual discipline—a way, within dire circumstances, of centering Christ in their social action. These lyrics were a repetitive reminder of their ethics. They inspired resilience, fortitude, and a desire for the redemption of one’s enemies. These words empowered them to battle against the hatred in others and also compelled them to subdue the potential for hatred inside themselves.
The civil rights movement could be called a Negro spiritual in action. The effort, which exemplified the spiritual disposition necessary to overcome extreme oppression, is instructive for Christians today as we struggle to apply the virtue of resilience in a divisive moment filled with mean words and fragile self-images.
Centering Our Grievances
Today, many Christians are squandering the lessons and legacy of the civil rights movement. Instead, we’re being schooled by algorithms into exchanging resilience for despair and rage.
To be sure, we must be careful not to dismiss the struggles and pain of the human condition inside or outside of our communities. The American church least resembles Christ when we’re insensitive and uncompassionate. This is what Christian nationalists fail to understand as they urge others to ignore America’s past sins. Telling wounded people to “just get over it” increases hurt and has made us accomplices in some of history’s ugliest tragedies.1 Resilience isn’t about promoting a coldhearted tough love or a stoicism that denies one’s need to grieve. God pities our every groan; accordingly, our feelings are important and worth expressing (Psalm 116:1).
That said, I fear some Christians have begun to commit the opposite error by centering pain and grievances. In our therapeutic culture2 we’ve developed a tendency to emphasize our struggles rather than our need and ability to overcome those struggles through Christ. We obsess over what our cultural opponents have done, and we form our identities around the damage. But we’re defined by our faith, not our struggles. We are more than the sum of our disadvantages.
The church’s civil rights generation refused to have a “woe is me” mentality. They cultivated what William Augustus Jones called a “nevertheless spirit,” which was determined to move forward, despite setbacks, with uprightness and aspiration. This perspective understood that evil exists and is harmful, but that we shouldn’t wallow in despair. We’re not to acclimate to the lowlands of a toxic sociopolitical landscape. If our public witness is to glorify God, we cannot yield or sin under the weight of our anger.
The point of view embodied by the civil rights generation is in direct conflict with a culture that now seems to incentivize self-pity. Instead of counting our blessings, we publicly count every offense we’ve experienced for attention and tribal solidarity. We’ve made it fashionable to parade around in our misfortunes. We repost “conflict entrepreneurs”—those who’ve created an industry out of division and who constantly shower us with narratives and images emphasizing how miserable our cultural opponents have made our lives.3 They dig up painful skeletons from history and showcase today’s worst actors on the other side to keep us in a state of rage.
But we shouldn’t internalize unfair criticisms of our beliefs, and we don’t have to relive every historical abuse our ethnic group has endured. Being aware of those issues and letting them ruin our day are two different things. We must learn the difference between confronting wrongdoers and making their actions the focus of our perspective. We must oppose those who attack justice and the Christian family ethic, but we can’t lose all hope or become evil while fighting evil.
Some of our grievances are accurate and just, but if we center them in our lives, we’ll end up bitter and in despair. As writer and cultural critic James Baldwin noted, we cannot afford to live in despair or to pass on hopelessness to future generations.4 The Bible directly instructs Christians to live lives full of hope and gratitude (Hebrews 11:1; Jeremiah 29:11; 1 Thessalonians 5:18). Jesus is greater than our struggles, and our words, attitudes, and actions must illustrate that to the world (John 16:33). We are the light of the world, not dark prophets of doom and gloom (Matthew 5:16).
Again, the intent here is not to disregard today’s real struggles, but rather to provide good news through proof of concept. If a group of Christians whose churches were bombed and whose friends were lynched could rise above despair and rage, then so can we.
What They Can’t Take Away
There’s no need to pretend that the words and actions of others can’t harm us. That’s simply not true. But the Bible tells us to be slow to take offense and continuously tells us to be strong (James 1:19; Ephesians 6:10). This indicates that while we can’t control others’ behavior, we often have control over how that behavior impacts our spirit and perspective.
Spiritually mature Christians know who the Bible says they are—God’s children. They know from whence their dignity is derived—God’s image (1 John 3:1; Genesis 1:27). Accordingly, while we still hear the words of our detractors, we know they don’t lessen our value. And while we still feel the lashes thrust upon us by a belligerent society, we understand they can never beat God’s image out of us. Consequently, like Charles Tindley, we can confront those who mock and scorn us without having our self-image defaced or reciprocating hate.
For example, if someone insults my religion or calls me a racial epithet, I can react by: (1) falling apart in despair (catastrophizing); (2) becoming enraged and sinning in anger; or (3) recognizing that their insult exposes only their brokenness and insecurity, while not actually being a reflection of my worth and character at all. It says more about them than it does about me. I don’t have to internalize the slight and come undone.
Despair and rage give the perpetrator too much power over me. If I center on God’s Word, then I can have confidence in who I am and in who has the ultimate victory. I can still hold the perpetrator accountable, but this moral knowledge enables me to do so with a clean heart and a clear head.
There will always be someone somewhere saying something ignorant about our communities. And social media’s algorithms can cause us to lose our sense of the proximity, proportion, and frequency of those offenses. If we center on them, we’ll be overwhelmed and eventually come to hate our neighbors and descend into pride or self-loathing.
By not overemphasizing or dramatizing these insults, we can compassionately teach our children not to become fragile. Rather, we can empower them to strive for resilience. We’ll have our moments of frustration and doubt, but we must look upward toward our North Star or, as the Negro spiritual says, “keep our eyes on the prize.”
In her song “The World Didn’t Give It to Me,” the legendary Christian singer Shirley Caesar summed up the world’s incapacity to steal what God has bestowed on His children. Cash, homes, cars—all of these can be stolen, repossessed, or lost. But through the gift of Christ on Calvary, she sang, “we’ve got something on the inside that man can’t take from us.”
No human being gave us human dignity; thus, no human being can take it away. We must resolve not to let anyone rob us of our sense of dignity. God has given us all the requisite tools for resilience. Consequently, we can face hardship and defamation with confidence, knowing that what God has said about us is true. We can rely on that truth and overcome, or we can center on the world’s lies and yield. Be strong in the Lord.
1 See for instance, Marvin Olasky, “Remembering Cherokee Tears and Dying Groans,” Christianity Today, May 23, 2025.
2 Jonathan Alpert, “ ‘Rising Fragility’: Therapy Culture Is Fueling America’s Unrest,” TheHill.com, June 21, 2025.
3 Matt Taibbi, “The Unhappiness Manifesto,” Racket.News, November 12, 2025.
4 See this short video clip from an interview with James Baldwin posted on YouTube at https://youtube.com/shorts/szgEvFACRVo?si=t5qY7M5ArypIjufa.
To hear an interview with Justin Giboney on the themes of his book, search for the Just Liberty podcast on your preferred podcast platform or watch on YouTube at @LibertyMag1906.
Article Author: Justin E. Giboney
Justin E. Giboney is an attorney, political strategist, and president of the AND Campaign, an organization that aims to educate and organize Christians for civic and cultural engagement. He is coauthor of the book Compassion (&) Conviction: The AND Campaign’s Guide to Faithful Civic Engagement.