Barack Hussein Obama Jr. claims to be Christian, of which many Americans are skeptical for good reason.
To begin with, his parents and grandparents were not Christians.
By Obama Jr.’s own admission, his father Barack Hussein Obama Sr. was “raised a Muslim” but a “confirmed atheist.” His mother, Stanley Ann Dunham, was raised by non-religious parents (Stanley Armour and Madelyn Dunham) and “detached” from religion.
Obama Jr.’s stepfather, Lolo Soetoro, was an Indonesian Muslim. When Soetoro married Obama’s mom, he adopted her boy who converted to Islam. There is no record of Obama ever leaving or renouncing the Muslim religion.
Then there’s Obama’s childhood mentor, Frank Marshall Davis, who was a black man and a long-time friend of Stanley Armour Dunham. Davis and Dunham’s friendship went back to Kansas.
When Obama was ten years old, his mom sent him back to Hawaii to live with her parents while she remained in Indonesia. Obama’s grandfather introduced the boy to Davis because Dunham wanted a black role-model and mentor for his grandson.
Indeed, Gerald Horne, a contributing editor to the Communist Party of the U.S.A. publication, Political Affairs, asserts that Davis was “a decisive influence in helping Obama to find his present identity” as an African-American.
Davis was some role-model. He was a member of the American Communist Party and a labor union “activist.” The author of free-verse poetry and books, Davis wrote a hard-core pornographic novel, Sex Rebel: Black, using the pseudonym Bob Greene. (Read more about Sex Rebel and Obama’s relationship with Davis here.)
Davis was also virulently anti-Christian, as evidenced in a blasphemous poem he wrote, titled “Christ is a Dixie Nigger,” in which Christ is a black bastard and a Communist, who did not die on the cross and certainly did not resurrect from the dead.
In an interview with the University of Hawaii’s Center for Labor Education and Research in May 1987, Davis obligingly recited the poem (see pp. 17-18 of the transcript of the Davis interview in PDF format):
You tell me Christ was born nearly twenty centuries ago in a little one-horse town called Bethlehem… your artists paint a man as a fair as another New White Hope
Well, you got it all wrong… facts twisted
Let me tell you wise guys something
I’ve got my own ideas… I’ve got a better Christ, a bigger Christ… one you can put your hands on today or tomorrow
My Christ is a Dixie nigger, black as midnight, black as the roof of a cave’s mouth
My Christ is a black bastard… maybe Joe did tell the neighbors God bigged Mary….but he fooled nobody… they all knew Christ’s father was Mr. Jim, who owns the big plantation… and when Christ started bawling out back in the cabin, Mr. Jim made all three git
You see, I know
Christ studied medicine up North in Chicago then came back to Mississippi a good physician with ideas for getting’ the races together… he lectured in the little rundown school houses awaiting Rosenwald money… he talked of the brotherhood and equality of man and of a Constitution giving everybody a right to vote and some of the nigger listeners told their white folks… when they found Christ healed a white woman other doctors gave up for dead… the two things together got him in the calaboose
They called him a Communist and a menace to the existing relationship Between Black and White in the South.
Sheriff and judge debated whether to open the hoosegow and tell reporters the mob stormed the jail or let the state lynch him on the gallows
Anyway they got him
Maybe the rope was weak, maybe or maybe Christ was too strong to die… I don’t know
They cut him down and they patched him up… he hid in the swamps until he got well enough to get around again… then he lectured a little more… and faded out. Whether he went to heaven or Harlem or the white folks broke his neck and hid the corpse somewhere is a question they still ask —
See what I mean?
I don’t want any of your stories about somebody running around too long ago to be anything but a highly publicized memory
Your pink priests who whine about Pilate and Judas and Gethsemane I’d like to hog-tie and dump into the stinking cells to write a New Testament around the Scottsboro boys
Subdivide your million dollar temples into liquor stores and high class whore-houses… my nigger Christ can’t get pass the door anyway
Remember this you wise guys
Your tales about Jesus of Nazareth are a no-go with me
I’ve got a dozen Christs in Dixie all bloody and black….
Davis’ poem exemplifies the obsessive self-referential self-absorption of victimology.
Instead of taking counsel from Psalm 37:1’s “Fret not thyself because of evildoers, neither be thou envious against the workers of iniquity,” victimology encourages the narcissism of self-pity. EVERYTHING is about being Black, the Eternal Victim. Even Jesus is reduced to being a Dixie nigger.
In Black the Eternal Victim’s constricted universe, it’s all about the woe-to-me of being black. There is no room even for God.
If Obama indeed is a Christian, there should be a record of his baptism somewhere. But no such record has been produced or even rumored about.
No wonder in an ABC News interview in 2008, Obama made this Freudian slip: