It’s Resurrection Sunday.

The day we shout that He got up! The day we wear our boldest colors, biggest hats, and some of us even squeeze our Easter thighs into resurrection suits that haven’t seen the light of day since pre-pandemic praise breaks. We fill the pews with generations of believers ready to declare, “He died for my sins!” But by the time the benediction is said, many churches especially the Black church have already decided which sins are worth condemning… and which ones we’re just going to “pray about.”

Let’s talk about it.

Because if Jesus got up, it wasn’t so we could sit in sanctified superiority. If He conquered death, hell, and the grave, it wasn’t to help us grade people on a sin curve especially not while we gossip through the grapevine, lie in leadership meetings, and keep piling extra chicken wings on our after-service plates while ignoring the real weight that keeps us from freedom: unrepentant hypocrisy.

A Blasphemous Prayer

This day, I had the opportunity to visit a few churches, where I witnessed the pastors praying over the people a noble gesture, right? Until the words took a sharp left:

“Lord, keep the people from homosexuals.”

That was the prayer. Not “keep them from harm,” or “keep their minds stayed on You.” Not “keep them from depression, suicidal thoughts, or self-hatred.” No. The most urgent, apparently most dangerous sin he could name… was who they might be attracted to.

That’s not intercession. That’s indoctrination laced in fear. That’s not the Holy Spirit. That’s homophobia hiding behind a robe and a microphone.

Let’s be clear: when we weaponize the Word against the vulnerable, when we twist God’s love into condemnation and dress it up as “righteousness,” that is the real blasphemy. Not homosexuality. Not addiction. Not even fornication. But the sin of misrepresenting the very character of Christ.

The Pharisee Problem

Jesus Himself had the strongest words not for the so-called “sinners” but for the religious leaders who masked their unrighteousness in public piety.

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.” — Matthew 23:27 (NIV)

That’s what today’s church has become in too many places: whitewashed tombs. Full of performance but empty of compassion. Obsessed with who’s in the bed but blind to who’s bleeding on the pew.

Where is the outcry over greed? Over gluttony? Over the pastor who won’t share the pulpit with women? Where’s the altar call for those who hoard wealth while the church’s single mothers struggle to pay rent?

We have created tiers of sin that reflect our prejudice more than God’s priorities.

Sin Ain’t a Hierarchy

Romans 3:23 reminds us, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” All. That includes the usher who cusses folks out behind the scenes, the deacon who’s emotionally abusive at home, and the choir member who thinks their voice exempts them from spiritual accountability.

James 2:10 doubles down on this:

“For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it.”

So, let’s stop acting like cigarette smoke sends you to hell faster than slander. Let’s stop pretending that sexual orientation is the ultimate offense when envy, hate, and pride are breaking up ministries, destroying marriages, and suffocating the next generation of believers.

The Hypocrisy is Hurting People

Research by the Barna Group found that millennials and Gen Z increasingly describe the church as judgmental, hypocritical, and out of touch. And can you blame them?

They see the church as quick to condemn but slow to care. They watch us sing “Come As You Are,” then hear sermons that shred their identity. They watch us dance on Easter, then whisper about who shouldn’t have come to the altar.

And Black churches, in particular, should know better. We’ve lived through being judged by our skin, our speech, our schools, our zip codes. We know what it feels like to be marginalized. Yet too often, we turn around and become the persecutors with scripture in hand and shame in our mouths.

It’s not just harmful. It’s anti-Christ.

Jesus Died for ALL

Let me remind us what this Sunday is about: Jesus died and rose again to reconcile us to God. All of us. Every last one of us broken, burdened, battling something.

The woman at the well had five husbands and was still on a situationship but Jesus didn’t drag her. He engaged her.

The tax collector was a cheat, but Jesus chose to dine with him.

The woman caught in adultery was dragged to the temple (by men who were conveniently not dragged with her), and Jesus didn’t cast a stone. Instead, He said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.”

Where is that grace in today’s church? Where is the Jesus who saw pain before perversion? Who saw possibility where others only saw problems?

The Real Sin is Silence and Stagnation

Many pastors will preach about resurrection today, but few will dare resurrect accountability in their pulpits.

Where is the rebuke for respectability politics in Black churches that shame women for wearing pants, lipstick, or locs?

Where is the outcry over molestation, manipulation, and money-mongering from the very leaders laying hands?

Where is the repentance for the lies told, the trauma caused, and the people pushed out of the church for being honest about who they are?

This isn’t revival. This is a religious rot.

And here’s what hurts me the most people are walking away from Jesus not because of Him, but because of the mess we made of His message.

We Need a Resurrection of Character

What we need this Resurrection Sunday is not louder sermons but deeper character.

We need a church that welcomes the gay kid and the gossiping elder but loves both enough to tell the truth in humility, not hypocrisy.

We need a church that calls out sin but starts with the sin in the pulpit, not just the pew.

We need a church that reflects the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, not spiritual arrogance dressed up as discernment.

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” — John 13:35 (NIV)

Not by our doctrine. Not by our dress code. Not even by our denomination. But by our love.

My Call to the Church

I’m not writing this to bash the Black church. I was raised in it. I’ve healed in it. I’ve served in it. And I still believe in it. But I won’t pretend that it’s perfect.

I’ve seen too many people shamed for who they are while others are celebrated for who they pretend to be.

I’ve seen too many leaders care more about image than integrity.

And I’ve been the woman who sat in the pew, bald from chemo, bold from experience, and wondering how long God would let His name be dragged through man-made mud.

But I also know that Jesus is still in the business of resurrection. And He’s calling us to break free from the bondage of hypocrisy and become people of character people who are Brave enough to tell the truth, Enthusiastic enough to embrace others, Authentic in our love, Self-controlled in our correction, and Thankful enough to remember what we were saved from.

That’s the B.E.A.S.T. mindset. That’s the real resurrection power.

Final Word: Let the Stones Fall

So today, if you’re sitting in a pew wondering if the church sees you, if God loves you, if you’ll ever belong, let me say what many pulpits won’t:

Yes, God loves you. Just as you are.

Yes, you belong.

And no, you are not the worst sinner in the room. You’re probably the most honest.

As for those casting stones while hiding behind titles—remember what Jesus said:

“Let the one who is without sin cast the first stone.” — John 8:7

Let the stones fall. Let the lies crumble. Let the fake holiness die. And let truth rise again.

Because He got up.

Now let the church do the same.