I am not a historian but a biblical scholar. As a Hebrew Bible scholar, I know something of nascent Christianity but not late ancient Christianity. I can get you from creation to about 70 CE. Still, I am glad to be with you to discuss Dr. Muehlberger’s new monograph. I will leave it to my esteemed colleagues on the panel to judge the particulars of this work as it relates to this sub-field and time period. Briefly, I will share some thoughts and how I regard it as useful in my own research.

In Moment of Reckoning, Muehlberger asks, “How did early Christians imagine their own deaths, and how did the peculiar way they anticipated death influence Christian thought and practice?” (6). She analyzes the “moment of reckoning” in imagined death and how it shifted Christian thought and practice.

I found Muehlberger’s work extraordinarily clear. She lays out her arguments carefully and helps the reader to follow her train of thought. Although I’m a non-specialist, I could understand how she arrived at particular points. She provides definitions of terms and explains important background on key subjects. Without unnecessary jargon, she maps out her thoughts as distinct from previous scholarship and explains what is original in her approach and conclusions. For me, the introduction was the most helpful chapter as it gave me the background that I needed. Also, it sets out the territory and parameters of the work and offers helpful chapter summaries. Chapter five on compulsion was the least helpful as it was the most focused chapter. Given my lack of familiarity, such a detailed examination of this tactic and Augustine’s particular case for compulsion was not as useful for me.

Overall, I feel unable to really determine if the argument is convincing. It seemed persuasive. I could see the steps being made. I could follow and understand how she arrived at her conclusions, but I do not know enough about this body of literature to really determine if I could agree with the central arguments. Again, this probably reflects my own specialization. For my own life and work, what I found most valuable in Moment of Reckoning is Muehlberger’s notion of the “postmortal” as “that immediate time after death” (18).

By coincidence, I am teaching a course titled “Death and Dying” this semester. My syllabus includes a content warning informing students that we will be tackling difficult material. I encourage students to reconsider taking the course if they have experienced a loss recently or perhaps are carrying a loss they have not grieved. One or two come up to me after the first or second class and say that they plan to drop. Usually it’s because of a grandparent’s recent death.

I teach “Death and Dying” because it is a bread-and-butter course for the Department of Religion. Students sign up, and the department needs the enrollment numbers. Although I warn my students about the material, there is no opportunity for me to opt-out as a faculty member. My own grandfather died last year, and I am still grieving. Furthermore, as a Black woman, the constant [sighs and gestures wildly] means that I am continually grieving my community. Alexis Crawford, a 21-year-old student at Clark Atlanta University was murdered a few weeks ago. I never met Alexis, but I grieve for her. Itali Marlowe, a Black trans woman in Houston, was murdered a few weeks ago. I never met Itali, but I grieve for her. Atatiana Jefferson was murdered in her own home by Fort Worth police. As I was writing a draft of these remarks, I had to add that Atatiana’s father Marquis Jefferson died soon thereafter of a heart attack or more likely, a broken heart. I never met Atatiana or her father, but I grieve for them. As a Black woman in the United States, I am surrounded by death and the potential for death at any moment.

I see a connection between Muehlberger’s notion of the “postmortal” and Black reflection on imagined Black death. Muehlberger is asking about the late antique period and how a “moment of reckoning” affected Christian notions of death and the afterlife and therefore Christian ethics. I am puzzling over how and why I see Black people imagining their death, particularly via social media. I will share three examples: #IfTheyGunnedMeDown; #IfIDieInPoliceCustody; and the last words of Black people murdered by police.

On August 9, 2014, unarmed 18-year-old Michael Brown was murdered in Ferguson, Missouri by White Ferguson police officer Darren Wilson. On August 10th, C.J. Lawrence (@CJ_musick_lawya now tweeting at CLLawrenceEsq) tweeted two images. One was an image of Lawrence wearing a cap and gown at giving a speech at his 2003 graduation from Tougaloo College. The image also shows others on the platform laughing, including commencement speaker Bill Clinton. The second image is a photo of Lawrence wearing all black and holding a bottle of Hennessy by the neck. In a subsequent tweet, Lawrence explained that the second image was a Kanye West Halloween costume. The initial tweet stated, “Yes let’s do that: Which photo does the media use if the police shot me down? #IfTheyGunnedMeDown.” The hashtag went viral, and many people tweeted different images of themselves and posted images on Tumblr. Usually, the images include one flattering image resembling a school-day portrait and the other in a more casual setting and involving dancing, drinking, or partying.

This hashtag served to expose how media depictions of Black victims frequently involve images that serve to blame the victim. Some posters connected their images with the images of Michael Brown that some news outlets chose to use. In the days after his murder, some outlets circulated images of Brown wearing a cap and gown as he had just graduated from Normandy High School on August 1st, while others outlets used an image of Brown wearing a Nike jersey and throwing what some interpret as a “gang sign.” Also, some on Twitter compared their photos with images of Trayvon Martin that were used in an effort to link him with gang activity.

This is imagined death. Specifically, it is imagined death consumed with Muehlberger’s “postmortal.” Posters were using their own imagined death in protest of the actual death of Michael Brown. It is imagined death in sympathy. Yet, their concern is not with how they will be judged by God in the afterlife but by the media.

On July 10, 2015, 28-year-old Black woman Sandra Bland was stopped by Texas State Trooper Brian Encinia for changing lanes without signaling. Bland was handcuffed, arrested, and charged with assaulting a police officer. Three days later, she died while in police custody. Her death was ruled a suicide.

DeRay Mckesson tweeted, “If I die in police custody & the police tell you that I ran through the woods & they pepper sprayed me to death, please ask every question.” In reply to Mckesson, the tweeter hoodrichglossy responded with the first use of the hashtag and tweeted, “#ifidieinpolicecustody raise hell.”

Others began to use the hashtag to comment on Sandra Bland’s alleged suicide. On July 18, 2015, a few days after Bland’s death, Black Lives Matter and immigrant rights protestors took the stage at a Netroots Nation event in Phoenix, Arizona. In her book When They Call You a Terrorist: A Black Lives Matter Memoir, Patrice Cullors describes how protestors used the refrain “if I die in police custody.” Cullors writes:

“If I die in police custody, know that they killed me.

If I die in police custody, show up at the jail, make noise, protest, tell my mother.

If I die in police custody, tell the entire world: I wanted to live” (232).

This is imagined death. As with #IfTheyGunnedMeDown, those using the hashtag were using their imagined death to combat false narratives about Black victims. They were speaking from a postmortal perspective. They were admonishing the living to protest and not to believe the autopsy or the police report or the media narrative surrounding their death while in police custody.

The Seven Last Words are a collection of sayings that Jesus spoke from the cross according the gospels. In the King James Version, the seven words are:

Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do (Luke 23:34)

Verily I say unto thee, today thou shalt be with me in Paradise (Luke 23:43)

Woman, behold thy son!...Behold thy mother (John 19:26-27)

My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me? (Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34)

I thirst. (John 19:28)

It is finished. (John 19:30)

Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. (Luke 23:46)

For centuries, preachers have offered meditations on these phrases for Good Friday or other Lenten services. Atlanta composer and musician Joel Thompson composed “Seven Last Words of the Unarmed.” This four-part choral work incorporates the seven last words of Black unarmed men before or as they are shot by police. Thompson’s work draws on Joseph Haydn’s 1786 orchestral work “The Seven Last Words of Our Saviour on the Cross.” In addition, Thompson was influenced by the #lastwords project of Shirin Barghi, an Iranian multimedia journalist and filmmaker. Thompson’s work was premiered in November 2015 by the University of Michigan Men’s Glee Club under the direction of Dr. Eugene Rogers. It invokes the words of the following victims:

Kenneth Chamberlain – Why do you have your guns out?

Trayvon Martin – What are you following me for?

Amadou Diallo – Mom, I’m going to college.

Michael Brown – I don’t have a gun. Stop shooting.

Oscar Grant – You shot me! You shot me!

John Crawford – It’s not real.

Eric Garner – I can’t breathe.

Thompson links these Black men with Jesus on the cross. Yet, their words are not about the hereafter or petitions to God. These last words serve as a remembrance of state violence.

Muehlberger asks, “How do a culture’s concepts about death shape the life of the person who anticipates she will die that death?” (5)

The persistent threat of violent death shapes the lives of Black people who anticipate that they will die that death.

As part of a team of activists, Bree Newsome climbed the flagpole at the South Carolina Capitol building and lowered the confederate flag. Her pinned tweet reads:

“Whenever I die, please don't allow my image to be co-opted by the power establishment. Don't let my name & likeness be used to argue for peace in the absence of justice. I believe uncompromisingly in the liberation of the black, poor and oppressed from systems of white supremacy”

In my own life, I know that my degrees and passport stamps will not save me. No, I don’t fear for my life every time I leave the relative comfort and safety of my home. But I don’t feel safe either. Will they use my graduation photo or a grainy image of me at a college house party? Will I have had time to click record on my iPhone or will the body camera be turned on so that the police can show my mother how they murdered me? This may be surprising to some of my colleagues here at the annual meeting. Surely a tenured professor does not have these concerns. That’s the point. I’m Black. If I get stopped, no one is asking me to conjugate verbs. If I get pulled over, no one is going to ask my opinion on the neo-documentarians. I’m Black. My murderer will be presumed innocent. I won’t. Will the police buy Burger King for my murderer? Will he remain on the police force?

In these examples I have shared, speaking from the Black postmortal involves gathering together in mourning and in protest.

Black death shapes Black life.

Nyasha Junior is an associate professor in the Department of Religion at Temple University in Philadelphia. She writes, teaches, speaks, and frequently tweets on religion, race, gender, and their intersections. She is the author of An Introduction to Womanist Biblical Interpretation (Westminster John Knox Press, 2015) and Reimagining Hagar: Blackness and Bible (Oxford University Press, 2019) and the co-author of Black Samson: The Untold Story of an American Icon (Oxford University Press, forthcoming). Visit her website nyashajunior.com and follow her on Twitter @NyashaJunior.