The White, Cisgender, Heterosexual God and Me.

My grandfather doesn’t talk about Jesus’ race during any of his sermons. I don’t care to ask him about it either because I can see from the pictures of Jesus hanging in our small church that Jesus is in fact a white, blue eyed man, with a six pack that looks as strong as that of a professional boxer. All the names in the bible are white names, although my grandfather reads them with a Xhosa accent “UPita, UPaul, UMary, UTimoty” and so forth.

There is no shadow of doubt in my mind that Jesus, his Father — God, and the Holy Spirit are all white men. My grandfather, tall, dark and handsome, with a beard that seats on his chest is the church’s main priest. I don’t know what he preaches about because I spend most of the service playing outside with my church friends. I do know that it has nothing to do with God’s race, because it is obvious, God is white.

When I graduate high school, I move to Queenstown where I join my mother’s church. It is very different from my grandfather’s small church, very different. This church has a live band, loud microphones, a charismatic preacher, and money. Being in this church confirms it for me, God is white because in South Africa, only white people have money. They teach that God doesn’t like our traditions — black people’s tradition, the killing of goats and ‘worshipping of ancestors’. However, they also…