Holy Bodies, Human Struggles: Obesity and the Black Church Experience

During a widely viewed New Year’s Eve service at New Birth Missionary Baptist Church, Pastor Jamal Bryant responded to public criticism of his wife’s attire worn at a high-profile gala that raised funds for Historically Black Colleges and Universities. While defending his wife, Bryant made a statement that sparked its own debate: he asserted that “out-of-shape preachers” often rail against women’s modesty while never preaching sermons on obesity or gluttony.

That statement resonated with many, not because it insulted clergy, but because it named a longstanding tension within Black church culture: the body is constantly talked about, but rarely holistically addressed.

The Black church has historically been a place of refuge, resilience, and restoration. It has also been a place where food is central, from repasts to fellowship halls, anniversaries to revivals. Meals signify love, community, and care. However, the cultural embrace of food has collided with systemic inequities that disproportionately affect Black communities: food deserts, economic stress, limited access to preventive healthcare, and chronic stress rooted in racism.

According to public health research, Black Americans experience higher rates of obesity than many other racial groups, not because of moral failure, but because of structural barriers. When those realities enter church spaces, they often meet silence.

Unlike modesty, which has long been framed as a moral issue, particularly for women, obesity is frequently treated as either:

• a personal struggle best handled privately, or
  
  

• a normalized condition so common it becomes invisible
  
  

Preaching on obesity risks confronting uncomfortable truths: pastoral health, church food culture, stress, depression, and trauma. It also risks alienating congregants in bodies that already face stigma in the world.

So instead, the church often speaks around the body rather than to it.

Bryant’s comment exposes a deeper contradiction: churches have historically felt comfortable policing how women’s bodies appear, yet far less comfortable addressing how bodies are cared for. Modesty sermons are common. Sermons on nutrition, movement, mental health, and rest are not.

The result is a theology that emphasizes appearance over wellness — visibility over vitality.

The Black church does not need body shaming. It needs body honesty.

A faith tradition rooted in liberation should be capable of holding conversations about:

• health without judgment
  
  

• food without guilt
  
  

• bodies without hierarchy
  
  

If the church can preach about stewardship of money, time, and talent, it can also preach about stewardship of the body, not as a moral weapon, but as an act of care.

Pastor Bryant’s remark, whether intentional or reactive, opens the door to a conversation long overdue: What does it truly mean to honor the body in spaces that claim to honor God?