By George Anthony Pratt, Contributing Writer
For centuries, people of African descent in the Americas have lived in profound tension with the land. Our ancestors worked the soil under bondage, their hands building the agricultural wealth of empires that denied their humanity. Yet from that coerced intimacy emerged something enduring: a spiritual and cultural connection to the earth, born on the shores of Africa and sustained in struggle and song, ritual and resistance. Aboriginal or indigenous knowledge systems and wisdom traditions teach us that the land holds memory; it holds grief. It holds a possibility. Today, that possibility is under threat.
We are living through a climate crisis of terrifying scale. Rising temperatures, extreme weather, food insecurity, and ecological displacement are no longer future threats—they are present realities. And for Black communities, the crisis is compounded by long histories of environmental racism. But a new frontier of concern is emerging: the rapid expansion of artificial intelligence, which depends on the construction of massive data centers. These centers require vast energy and water consumption. According to a 2023 Washington Post article, “A new front in the water wars,” some consume millions of gallons of water a day, burdening ecosystems and disproportionately affecting marginalized communities.
This is not just a political or technological issue; it is a spiritual one. If Black churches are to remain committed to the work of liberation, they must take seriously the moral crisis of ecological collapse. As scholar Jawanza Eric Clark argues in Reclaiming Stolen Earth: An Africana Ecotheology, we must move beyond Eurocentric theologies that separate spirit from soil, and recover Africana ways of knowing that see the earth as sacred, alive, and interconnected with all being.
Yet too often, our responses have been symbolic. We insert climate justice into litanies and prayers, host themed Sundays, or add “creation care” to ministry menus. But ethics cannot be washed clean by performance. Without action, liturgy becomes empty ritual. Thankfully, there are models among us. The Black Church Food Security Network, led by the Rev. Heber Brown III, demonstrates what it means to reclaim ecological agency. By connecting churches with Black farmers and establishing gardens and food ministries, the Network fosters a living, embodied theology rooted in collective action and community collaboration.
Black faith communities have long existed as centers of organizing, imagination, and power. We must now bring that legacy to bear on the climate crisis. This means forming green ministries that advocate for policy change, challenging local developments that displace or pollute, supporting just technology practices, and investing in land-based solutions. Our theology must grow from the ground up, remaining attentive to questions of survival and sustainability.
This moment demands more than symbolic solidarity. It demands strategy in our hands and spirit in our work. We must listen to the land. We must plant justice—literally and spiritually. And we must build a future where Black faith, ecological wisdom, and political action walk hand in hand, not just in word, but in deed.
George Anthony Pratt is a Ph.D. student in Religion at Harvard University, specializing in African American religions and history.
