We need to talk about why Kanye’s church isn’t the end of the world

It’s safe to say that Kanye West is still very much canceled. In fact he’s been solidly crossed out with as many streaks of disapproval that punishingly blot out his name beyond recognition.

That being said, his latest project as the roving artist that he unapologetically nurtures, for better or worse, is seemingly causing the kind of backlash that makes some of us ask out loud, “can he just live?”

“And pray?”

It was only a matter of time before Kanye’s dramatized revelation of spiritual unification, under the banner of the Calabasas sun and amongst the greenery of nature and the green pockets of God’s blessed creatures, would come under public scrutiny with the litany of think pieces that aim to discredit an accused con man, who is now misleading a newly-minted congregation.

Kanye is no preacher man by any means, and remarkably none of the blurbs that critique his attempts at self-promotion in the name of the God that’s he’s apparently dishonoring for his own self-interests, have bothered to point out how “Sunday Service” accurately embodies the free-spiritedness and unregulated mantra that mega-churches conveniently avoid because of the obsession with absolute power.

Of all the articles I’ve read about Kanye’s controversial venture, the one that struck me the most appeared on the NBC news website, and that’s mainly because of the antagonistic tone of the author, who detailed his disdain for a once well-respected and beloved rapper, who sealed his activism when he plainly expressed his disgust for the poor response to Hurricane Katrina by boldly declaring on national television — that “George Bush Doesn’t Care About Black People.”

Now, more than a decade later, the Black hero who showed no mercy to the American government for gross negligence applied to his people during a national tragedy, has become the disgraced defector of his community, as former fans regard him as the messy mess, who represents what happens when role models disappoint beyond repair.

The adherence to #MAGA gear coupled with the bizarre theatrics in the Oval Office, that made Trump blush with confusion and validation, was hard to take for most, but shit hit the fan right after the ill-advised remarks about slavery were unleashed.

In this climate of perfection, not only is there no room for misspoken deliveries, but if there’s even a hint of stirring a debate about a closed topic that can’t be tampered with for any reason other than to echo the script from the maddened crown — you can best believe that crawling back to good graces will be an impossible mission.

Truth be told, I’ve always regarded Kanye as the artist that he’s proven to be with consistent thoroughness. He’s essentially he’s on muse; a non-conformist.

Artists are typically driven by instincts that don’t always translate well for needy observers who can’t tolerate threats of unpredictability.

In many ways, there’s a sense of comfort and compatibility that I receive from a pop culture icon, who refreshingly exposes every ounce of what he’s thinking and feeling, without fear of being verbally massacred, and unceremoniously excommunicated by fiery critics, who earn more followers, and possibly a blue sticker with their threads of cancellations.

The media also follows the leaders of influential ideals, as reputable outlets dismiss the assignment of healthy neutrality or equal sums of the issue by recruiting writers who can expertly discredit and assault the trending celebrity that everyone despises with a passion, in order to capitalize on the reigning opinion that nobody can afford to refute.

The NBC news article targets Kanye’s epicenter of disorder and betrayal to the loyalists who relied on the falsehood of his Blackness. His artistry was always the currency that elevated him from the danger of being accountable, until the era of perfection arrived.

Suddenly, you are subject to the brutality of disciplinary actions if your burgeoning debate sways too far away from the general consensus.

By the way, this isn’t a poor effort to defend the indefensible. I am most certainly capable of recognizing the troubling signs of Kanye’s thought process, even if I admire his ability to reject the offer of saving himself from the avalanche of clap backs, by robotically keeping his Twitter page clean from creative gibberish that naggingly require translations.

I guess there’s a strong urge to talk about why Kanye’s church shouldn’t be viewed as the end of the world, especially when you consider how “real churches” that are outfitted with angelic regalia and enormous wealth, are currently besieged with demonic values that exact irrevocable harm.

The Catholic Church is embroiled in the murkiness of centuries old sexual abuse cases that were willfully buried to protect the stained robes of cross-bearing abusers, who were given the authority to torment bodies and souls of the unprotected and victimized in full view of the Holy Ghost.

Mega-churches continue to pollute million-dollar spaces, that house dedicated worshippers, who are committed to the teachings of slick-haired salesmen, who have been groomed to lead the flock astray under the veil of rehearsed monologues that cater to specific ailments of low self-esteem.

It’s hard to fathom that Kanye’s feel-good musical extravaganza could somehow pose an even greater threat to an already ailing society by further exacerbating the cultish industry of commanding a shit load of people to believe polished verses, that cost way more than they are worth.

The author of the article that caught my attention is adamant about how “Sunday Service is not {Kanye’s} redemption; it is yet another self-serving mission engineered by an egomaniac and his enablers. It is soulless, exploitative, and selfish. We have enough false prophets out there; we needn’t entertain more — no matter how good they make beats.”

The irony of that statement lies in the truth of how the experience of church-going has often left me feeling “exploited” and even more lost and disillusioned than ever before.

Perhaps it’s easier to believe that “Sunday Service” is a an over-the-top shit show under the tutelage of a mentally-disarrayed prankster, who is indulging in a new form of entertainment, that is feed a temporary preoccupation, that will soon evaporate to make room for a new love.

And if that happens to be the case, so what?

We need to talk about why there are so many more vital items that demand the level of analysis that Kanye’s makeshift spiritual fest has managed to inspire.

False prophets come in all forms, and the scary part is that they don’t need church bells to announce their arrival. They can be well-positioned moguls; recognizable on a first-name basis, who profess one thing, but sleekly deliver actions that are traitorously not aligned with notable pursuits on behalf of the community they never really served — accordingly.

If Kanye wants to sing “kumbaya” and bask in the walk of Jesus with energetic dance moves and the choir of monotoned-clothed revelers as reinforcements, then by God let it be.

When all is said and done, it’s not going to speed up the end of the world. Those prophetic roles are already taken.

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