Kewns and Runaway Slaves Love Jesus Too
By: Damien Thaddeus Jones - @NobleNegroe + Facebook + TikTok
As a preacher and thought leader, I’ve learned words carry weight—especially from the pulpit. So when I heard my brother (whom I love and have deep respect for) Pastor Jamal Bryant, leader of New Birth Missionary Baptist Church, call Black Trump supporters “runaway slaves” and “coons,” my heart sank. Not because I’m here to defend any political stance, but because those words clash with the gospel we’re called to preach. Jesus came to bind up the brokenhearted, not to break them further with venomous labels. Pastor Bryant’s rhetoric not only missed the mark—it was divisive, hurtful, and beneath the dignity of our shared calling. And let’s not pretend he’s alone in this. Too many pastors, from mega churches to small sanctuaries, have turned their pulpits into platforms for hate, lashing out at Trump supporters—Black or White—with words that wound rather than heal.
Pastor Bryant’s case stands out because it was public and viral. He was reacting to a video of Black Trump supporters at the White House, trolling him with taunts and jeers. I get it—provocation stings, especially when it’s personal. But as a pastor, he should’ve handled this better. The Bible doesn’t let us off the hook when we’re cursed. Luke 6:28 is plain: “Bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” That’s Christ’s command, not a suggestion. Bryant could’ve modeled that grace, rising above the bait. Instead, he swung back with “runaway slaves” and “coons”—terms that cut deep. He’s not the only one, though. I’ve heard preachers call Trump supporters “sellouts,” “devils,” or worse, whether they’re Black folks breaking ranks or White congregants voting their conscience. It’s a troubling trend, and it’s got to stop.
The Black community isn’t a monolith—neither is the church. We don’t all think alike, vote alike, or pray alike, and that’s not a flaw—it’s a strength. To suggest supporting Donald Trump makes someone a traitor to their race, a “runaway slave” fleeing some imagined plantation, reduces complex people to caricatures. Calling them “coons”—a slur soaked in our history’s pain—turns shame into a weapon. And when pastors aim that venom at White Trump supporters, it’s no less ugly—labels like “racist enablers” or “lost souls” fly too easily. I’ve read Proverbs 18:21 enough to know “death and life are in the power of the tongue.” Pastor Bryant and others chose death-dealing words when they could’ve chosen life, even amid provocation.
The gospel doesn’t demonize—it unifies. Galatians 3:28 says in Christ there’s neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female—we’re all one. If that’s true across such divides, how much more within our own pews? We can disagree on politics—Lord knows we will—but when pastors cast Trump supporters as enemies instead of family, we’ve lost the plot. Bryant’s words fractured the body, but he’s not solo. I’ve seen preachers stoke division, Black against Black, White against White, all over a ballot. It’s not just about one video or one sermon—it’s a pattern that’s poisoning the church.
Hateful language isn’t acceptable from anyone—not from the street, not from the White House, and certainly not from pastors with platforms, big or small. Influence means responsibility. People look to clergy for direction, not just inspiration. When a shepherd swings a rhetorical club—whether it’s Bryant’s slurs or another pastor’s venom—the sheep scatter. Pastor Bryant could’ve challenged that video with dignity, blessed those who cursed him, and prayed instead of cursed back. So could others who’ve taken the low road. Ephesians 4:29 says let no corrupt talk come out of our mouths, only what builds up. We all should try to live by that.
We’re in a polarized time, and the church can’t mirror the world’s mess. Bryant’s misstep—and the missteps of others—sound a wake-up call. Hard talks about politics and justice are our mandate, but there’s a way to do it that honors God’s image in every person, Black or White, Trump fan or not. Imagine if Bryant had said, “I disagree, but let’s reason together.” Imagine if other pastors followed suit. That’s the gospel I know—the one that turned Saul into Paul.
The church isn’t here to widen cracks but to build bridges. Pastor Bryant’s words, and those of too many others, missed the mark. The gospel isn’t a weapon—it’s a balm. If we’re going to heal what’s broken, we’ve got to start with how we speak—even when the trolls are loud and the stakes feel high.
Rev. Damien Thaddeus Jones is a Christian minister, distinguished conservative thought leader, and political analyst with nearly 15 years of expertise in civic and political engagement. He is the author of best selling book Black Voters Red Wave.