In her candid book Red Lip Theology: For Church Girls Who've Considered Tithing to the Beauty Supply Store When Sunday Morning Isn't Enough, Candice Benbow uses the analogy of a skincare and make-up routine to walk the reader through her journey of personal growth as she overcomes adverse experiences, and explains how adopting personal glam routines assisted her in her glow-up journey of becoming a self-proclaimed “Bad Bish.” The author—a womanist and Black feminist who writes for that audience’s benefit—also shares her journey to unravel what she considers a toxic Christian theology and mindset that kept Black women bound in their religious and personal expressions, however varied they may be.
First, Benbow sets up her arguments and opinions in well-constructed ways, each corresponding to a step in her self-care and makeup routines, for which she names the chapters. Next, she unashamedly infuses her personal experiences into the narrative by sharing her personal triumphs and some of her biggest mistakes. For example, at the start of the book, she shares the story of her close friend telling her that she needed to dress better: “I really want you to start taking better care in how you look. You don’t look like my best friend anymore” (xvii). This is the conversation that starts her journey into the world of make-up and skincare. Initially, the prices for quality make-up sent Benbow into “sticker shock” (xix), but “she told me it was time to get back to myself” (xx), advice that the author took to heart and put into immediate action.
Benbow is self-critical at times. She tells the story of her entanglement in an extramarital affair, and admits that at times she, as a young budding womanist/Black feminist, may have hurt others with her words and clap backs, although she considered her actions to be correct at the time. She reflects on these times and concedes that a different method of action may have benefited her and the recipients of her retorts: “My slick mouth has always gotten me into trouble, and I can use this beautiful gift of words I have to cut folks deep. I have said and done some cringeworthy things” (xxxi).
In everything that she does, Benbow is ultimately and unapologetically interested in the freedom and flourishing of Black millennial women, both within the church and outside of it. Throughout the manuscript, she grapples with challenging issues such as patriarchy, sexism, racism, and the church’s role in all these things. For example, the author recalls her personal experiences with pastors and church members who leveled judgments against her mom for giving birth to her out of wedlock. Incidents like this, and the larger failings of the church, served as an impetus for Benbow’s book. Red Lip Theology “has been my way of living into it—of reckoning with how racism, sexism, classism, and the politics of respectability left imprints on our faith communities and how those imprints have bruised our hearts and spirits” (177). The book has been her “attempt to return to the love with which God made us” (177).
Another fascinating aspect about this work is that Benbow shares details about her relationship with her mother in an authentic and relatable way, telling stories of some of their most intimate disagreements—about Benbow’s critique of the Black church and some of her personal life choices—as well as their growth as mother and daughter and their overall closeness. Benbow’s relationship with her mother is on full display in her writings and is relatable for a lot of Black millennial church women. For example, in a letter she penned to her mother, who passed away, she writes that “my faith and that of sisters like me isn’t necessarily going to look like yours” (177), a point that is often the cause of disagreement between Black church mothers and daughters of different generations. Sharing some of the memories of her relationship with her mother and their relational struggles and triumph may help someone with similar experiences overcome difficulties in their relationships with the maternal figures in their own lives. If the reader’s maternal figure is deceased, reading the heartfelt letter Benbow penned to her mother may help bring much needed closure to the reader.
Since Benbow’s book is intended to assist Black women in their liberation, an array of people may find the book helpful, such as Black millennial and Gen Z women who were raised in the church but may not agree with some of the doctrine or rigidity. It will also be illuminating to those who want to study these two generations for a deeper understanding of their theologies and critiques of the church. Overall, Benbow’s work reads like a direct conversation with the individual reader, as she holds up a mirror for the reader to see their own reflection, asking them whether to adjust or not. She invites the reader on her journey and leaves room for them to make their own adjustments and conclusions. Benbow unapologetically and boldly states why she does what she does, especially concerning her beliefs about, and participation within, the Black Christian church. Although many people may find the book helpful, the book may deter some of the very people it is intended to help because of its raw honesty, including the title and subtitle, although the author presumably chose such assertive words to make a strong statement. Benbow is honest, even at her own expense, for a cause she believes in, which is the liberation of Black women.
Ultimately, it is safe to say that Benbow said what she said in her open and honest book Red Lip Theology and has no plans of unsaying it to be accepted into the institution of the Black church. And the book is a benefit to those interested in the Black Church’s future, even if some of what she says makes us uncomfortable.
Kimberly L. Carter is a PhD student in Women’s Sacred Mysteries, Arts, and Healing at the California Institute of Integral Studies.
Kimberly Carter
Date Of Review:
July 29, 2023