The New Birth scandal, Bishop Eddie Long, and the art it inspired

Below is a clear, journalistic-style article you can publish on your blog about the New Birth Missionary Baptist Church scandal that exploded in 2010 — plus a candid section about your controversial illustration, the ethical and legal risks of sexually explicit depictions of real people, and practical suggestions for presenting provocative political art responsibly.

The story in short

In late 2010, four men publicly accused Bishop Eddie L. Long — leader of the New Birth Missionary Baptist Church near Atlanta — of coercing them into sexual relationships when they were teenagers. The allegations rocked one of the Southeast’s largest megachurches, generated national headlines and protests, and were later settled out of court in 2011. The civil suits were dismissed with prejudice after settlement, leaving many questions unresolved and long-lasting debate about power, accountability, and secrecy inside powerful churches.

Background: New Birth and Eddie Long

Eddie Long rose from modest beginnings to build New Birth into a multimillion-member megachurch with regional influence, high visibility and substantial financial assets. For years he was a charismatic figure on the national Black church stage — preaching prosperity and spiritual mentorship while cultivating a close inner circle of young “spiritual sons.” His public persona and pastoral power made the later accusations especially explosive.

The allegations and the legal timeline

• September 2010: Civil lawsuits were filed by young men who said Long had used his pastoral authority to coerce them into sexual relationships when they were teens. Multiple media outlets reported on successive suits and additional accusers.

• 2010–2011: The allegations triggered intense media coverage, parishioner division, and public protests calling for his resignation. Georgia law, and the details in the complaints, meant criminal investigations did not lead to criminal charges; the suits were pursued as civil actions.

• May–August 2011: The civil cases were settled out of court in May 2011; the suits were later dismissed with prejudice, which prevented the same claims from being refiled. Terms were not publicly disclosed.

Those are the key legal milestones. Because the settlements were confidential, many factual questions remained publicly unanswered — and that lack of final, public adjudication intensified the controversy rather than settling it.

Public reaction and institutional fallout

The scandal exposed several dynamics that recur in high-profile religious controversies:

• Loyalty vs. accountability: Many congregants publicly stood by Long, while others left or protested, showing how devotion and institutional identity can blunt immediate accountability.

• Media and narrative control: Coverage varied across outlets; the story became a national conversation about clergy misconduct and the power imbalance between senior pastors and young congregants.

• Long-term consequences: Even after settlement, the episode left a scar on Long’s legacy and on New Birth’s public standing. Years later his death in January 2017 reopened conversations about what survivors experienced and how institutions respond.

What survivors and critics said

Several of the men who brought the suits spoke publicly later — writing, speaking in interviews, and collaborating on projects that detailed their versions of events. Their accounts framed the scandal as a pattern of exploitation of spiritual authority, and they have continued to press for public acknowledgement.

Why this mattered beyond New Birth

The Eddie Long case became part of a broader national discussion about abuse, consent, and pastoral power inside charismatic and megachurch structures. It raised questions about oversight, financial transparency, the pastoral “mentor” model, and how religious communities protect (or fail to protect) vulnerable people in youth programs and mentorship relationships.

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The Black church has always been more than just a place of worship. It has been the heartbeat of the community, the foundation for survival, and the sanctuary where people found strength during times of struggle. But in recent years, many have begun to ask hard questions about what is really happening behind the pulpit.

One of those questions is captured in a provocative illustration featuring the late Pastor Carlton Pearson. While the image is meant to be comical and controversial, the deeper point it raises is no laughing matter. It challenges us to ask: has the Black church shifted so far from its original principles that it is now run by “fairy tales”?

This is not just about one man. It is about a wider issue within the institution that has shaped generations of Black people. The rise of openly gay pastors, and the countless others who remain hidden, has created a storm of conflict inside the church.

Some see this as progress—an acceptance of different lifestyles within a spiritual space. Others see it as a betrayal of scripture, a compromise of the very foundation on which the church was built. The clash of belief and behavior has left many confused, hurt, and questioning their faith leaders.

Whether we agree or not, the reality is this: the Black church is changing. And it is time for us to face these changes directly, with honesty and courage.

The Hidden Truth Behind the Pulpit

For generations, the Black church has served as both a spiritual refuge and a stage. Behind the pulpit, pastors are celebrated as leaders, counselors, and even celebrities. But in the shadows, many have lived double lives—preaching holiness on Sunday while hiding their true selves during the week.

This “undercover legion” of pastors has long been whispered about, yet rarely confronted. The pressure to appear righteous, combined with the fear of judgment, has driven many to live in secrecy. In the end, the congregation is left with leaders whose words do not match their actions.

The Illustration of Carlton Pearson

The artwork of Carlton Pearson captures this hypocrisy in bold imagery. His kneeling posture, the suggestive candy cane, the reptilian tail holding a rainbow flag, and the jar of “booty butter” send a message that cannot be ignored. It ridicules the hidden behaviors that many suspect but few dare to discuss openly.

The image is not about shaming one man—it is about holding up a mirror to the institution itself. The Black church, which once stood as the strongest moral guide for the people, now faces accusations of being corrupted from within.

Scripture Versus Reality

The Bible speaks clearly on certain matters, including relationships between men and women. For centuries, this has been the foundation of church teaching. Yet in practice, the reality is far different. Many of the very men who condemn same-sex relations from the pulpit are secretly involved in them.

This gap between scripture and reality creates a dangerous contradiction. Congregants are left wondering: are we being led by truth, or by lies? If the leaders cannot live what they preach, then what becomes of the message itself?

The Impact on the Community

The Black community has always leaned on the church for guidance. But when hypocrisy is exposed, the damage runs deep. Trust is broken. Faith is shaken. Young people, already drifting away from traditional religion, see the scandals and turn away completely.

This erosion of trust weakens the entire community. If the church loses its moral authority, then what takes its place? Too often, the answer has been nothing. And without a guiding institution, the people are left vulnerable to confusion, division, and spiritual emptiness.

A Question of Leadership

At the core of the issue is leadership. Can the Black church continue to follow men and women who live in contradiction? Can it survive when its leaders put image above integrity?

The truth is, leadership built on deception cannot last. No matter how powerful the sermons, no matter how large the congregations, lies eventually collapse under their own weight. A new standard of leadership must rise—one rooted in honesty, even if it is uncomfortable.

Looking Forward

The Black church cannot heal unless it faces its truth. Whether that truth is about sexuality, hidden sins, or financial corruption, the time for silence is over. The people deserve clarity. The community deserves leaders who live what they preach.

Until then, the question raised by the illustration remains painfully valid: is the Black church now run by fairy tales—or by truth?

The time has come for us to separate tradition from deception. For too long, the Black church has protected its image while ignoring the cracks in its foundation. Those cracks are now too wide to be hidden.

We must stop turning a blind eye to the double lives of our leaders. Silence only feeds corruption. The longer we ignore the truth, the more damage it does to the faith of our people.

The challenge is not just for pastors, but for the community itself. Will we demand honesty, or will we settle for showmanship? Will we accept fairy tales, or will we insist on truth?

The legacy of the Black church is too important to let it collapse under lies. It must be rebuilt—not on fear or fantasy, but on integrity and courage. Only then can it regain its place as the true heart of the community.

In the end, this is not about one man, or one illustration. It is about the future of our people. And that future depends on whether we choose truth over tales.

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Was Karl Marx Correct?

Power is not just in money. It hides in classrooms, banks, courts, and the stories told on our screens. Power teaches us how to think, what to want, and even what to believe about ourselves. For Black people, power has not been neutral. It has been a weapon.

Art can reveal what polite speeches cover up. A drawing, a sketch, an illustration can cut through noise and force the truth into view. My work asks the question no one wants to ask: who really controls these systems, and why do we keep paying the price?

History is not still. Since the mid-20th century, the world has shifted — wars fought, borders redrawn, economies linked. But every move, every global shift, has found its way into the lives of Black people in America. The result has been deeper struggle, sharper obstacles, and less space to breathe.

Institutions do not fall into place by accident. They are built and guarded. Education, law, finance, housing, politics, banking, and media have all been arranged like weapons on a battlefield. Their aim is clear: to protect wealth for some while draining life and wealth from us.

But what has been used to control us can also be used to free us. The question is not only who controls these systems today. The question is when will we claim them for ourselves.

The Classroom Trap

Education should be the key. Instead, it’s been a lock. Underfunded schools, biased lessons, and teachers who doubt our children. That’s not a mistake — that’s design. To break free, we need schools that belong to us, schools that teach our story, schools that sharpen our minds for our fight.

Law: The Hand That Strikes

The law claims to protect. But for us, it often punishes. From stop-and-frisk to mass incarceration, the system has devoured Black families. Justice will not come by begging. It comes by rewriting laws, by tearing out roots of bias, and by building protection that we control.

Finance: Starving the Dream

Banks decide who eats and who starves. Black businesses are denied loans. Families are charged higher rates. Dreams are delayed until they die. The solution is not charity. It is building Black banks, credit unions, and cooperative lending that feed our people and starve the exploiters.

Housing: Stolen Ground

Home is wealth. Home is safety. But redlining and discrimination stole both from us. Our neighborhoods were drained, our land taken, our value crushed. To heal, we must hold the land. Land trusts, co-ops, ownership by the people — so our communities cannot be bought and sold again.

Politics: Bought Voices

Politicians claim to represent us, but many are bought before they even speak. Our votes have power, but only when we demand more than speeches. We must run for office ourselves. We must fund leaders we control, not leaders controlled by others.

Banking Institutions: The Silent Chains

Banks hold the keys to the vault. But the locks were never built for us. Their rules bleed our wealth dry. The answer is not waiting for fairness. The answer is taking our money back into our hands, creating systems where our dollars build us, not destroy us.

Media: The Mirror of Lies

Look at the screen. How do they show us? As criminals, as clowns, as shadows of our true selves. Media is not harmless — it shapes belief. When they own the story, they own the image. We must own our platforms, tell our truths, and control the lens that shows our lives.

The Web of Control

No system works alone. Schools feed prisons. Media shapes laws. Banks choke neighborhoods. It is a web — designed to trap. To break it, we must fight on every front at once. One victory is not enough. We must strike until the whole web falls.

History’s Turning Point

Since 1948, the world order shifted. Nations fought for land and power, and America bent itself to serve new interests. Those changes reached into every corner of our lives, pulling strings, tightening chains. We cannot ignore global moves, but our focus must be the local battle — where we live, where we work, where we build.

Culture: The Hidden Script

Culture trains the mind. It whispers: “This is normal. This is all you deserve.” Textbooks, music, movies — many of them erase us, or teach us to bow. The cure is culture that heals, art that resists, and stories that remind our children who they really are.

Building Power: The Roadmap

• Build schools that teach our truth.

• Control banks that lend to our people.

• Protect housing through ownership and community trusts.

• Run for office, write laws, and wield power.

• Build and fund media platforms that cannot be silenced.

• Tear down the criminal justice trap and build systems of true protection.

Artists: The Unseen Soldiers

Art is not decoration. It is a weapon. It cracks silence. It demands a response. Every stroke of the pen is a warning: we see the lies, and we refuse them. This illustration is not just a picture. It is a call to rise.

The systems around us are not broken. They are working exactly as they were built — to use us, to profit from us, to keep us locked down. They were never designed with our freedom in mind.

That means fairness will not fall into our laps. Justice will not be handed out like charity. Power never gives itself away. Power must be taken.

Our task is not to ask for seats in someone else’s house. It is to build our own. Schools, banks, media, housing, politics — all under our control, all serving our future. That is not a dream. That is a demand.

The next generation is watching. If we leave them nothing but chains, they will curse our names. If we leave them power, they will carry the fight further than we ever could.

So let the question be asked: Was Karl Marx correct? The answer does not rest in theory, but in action. What matters is what we build, what we guard, and what we refuse to surrender. The time to master our own affairs is now.

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Patriotism is often presented as blind loyalty. We are told to wave flags, salute, and accept the stories we are given without question. But what happens when those stories are built on lies? What happens when truth is buried, and those who question it are labeled as dangerous?

I created a political illustration years ago titled Feeling Patriotic, America? Then Keep Drinking the Kool-Aid. It was designed to challenge the false comfort of blind belief. The picture showed Osama bin Laden and Christopher Dorner wrapped in the American flag, sitting side by side, with the Kool-Aid Man resting on piles of money. Behind them was a sign that read, Federal Terrorist Job Recruitment Unit.

The message was not about glorifying either man. It was about exposing how America manipulates the public with stories that benefit power and silence truth. Many people believe what they are told, even when it makes no sense. They drink the Kool-Aid and call it patriotism.

The Black community especially must be careful not to fall into this trap. We cannot afford to blindly follow the narratives of a system that has long proven itself untrustworthy toward us. Every generation, we are given stories that redirect our energy away from truth and toward loyalty to those who oppress us.

This illustration was meant to shock, but it was also meant to wake us up. It asked the question: How long will we allow ourselves to be fooled? How long will we keep drinking the Kool-Aid?

The Kool-Aid of Lies

The Kool-Aid represents deception. It is sweet, colorful, and easy to swallow. Yet inside, it is poison. Governments, corporations, and media serve this Kool-Aid daily. They tell us who the villains are, who the heroes are, and what events mean—yet rarely do we get the full truth.

For the Black community, this deception has been especially harmful. From slavery to mass incarceration, from false wars to false promises, we are told lies to keep us controlled. These lies are presented with flags, songs, and speeches. But beneath the surface, it is about money, power, and control.

Wrapping Lies in the Flag

In the illustration, Dorner and bin Laden were wrapped in the American flag. That was no accident. It symbolized how America hides its sins behind patriotism. Whenever truth gets too close, the system pulls out the flag. Those who dare to expose corruption are labeled enemies. Those who commit crimes in service of power are painted as patriots.

The flag becomes a mask, covering up hypocrisy. It protects those who profit while silencing those who speak out. For our community, this is a reminder: we must look past the symbols. We must study history and see the patterns for ourselves.

The Federal Terrorist Job Recruitment Unit

That sign in the background—Federal Terrorist Job Recruitment Unit—was a metaphor. It spoke to how America trains, funds, and supports violence when it benefits power. Wars are started under false reasons. Leaders are created, then destroyed, when they are no longer useful. And the people are left believing a story that was never real in the first place.

For Black people, this reality should teach us not to trust blindly. If entire wars and national tragedies can be staged or misrepresented, what else are we being told that is not true?

The Kool-Aid Man sitting on piles of money reveals the real motive: profit. Wars, prisons, weapons, surveillance—these are billion-dollar industries. The suffering of people becomes business. The illusion of patriotism keeps the machine running.

For our community, this means we must be careful not to become tools in someone else’s plan. We must recognize when we are being used for labor, votes, or distraction while the real wealth flows elsewhere.

My illustration was never meant to praise or excuse violence. It was meant to force people to think. It was meant to shake the illusion that everything we are told is the truth. Because if we keep drinking the Kool-Aid, we remain powerless.

The Black community must rise above deception. We must sharpen our awareness, question everything, and refuse to be manipulated by symbols and speeches. Our survival depends on it.

Patriotism without truth is slavery. It chains the mind even when the body is free. We cannot afford to love a system that does not love us back. We must build loyalty to truth, not lies.

The future of our people depends on seeing through illusions. The flag, the Kool-Aid, the stories—all of these are distractions if we do not examine them carefully. Our focus must remain on unity, strength, and independence.

So, I ask again: Feeling Patriotic, America? Then Keep Drinking the Kool-Aid. Or, for those who are awake, the question becomes: When will we put the cup down and finally see the truth?

LanceScurvX

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CLICK IMAGE ABOVE TO PURCHASE…

America, the land of the free, has become a wasteland of its own making. The Whore of Babylon, my 2008 illustration, is a raw and unapologetic portrayal of this nation's descent—rotting from the inside out, drowning in its own lies, corruption, and hypocrisy. The so-called beacon of democracy is nothing more than a flickering neon sign outside a brothel, selling its soul for cheap labor, endless wars, and corporate greed.

Lady Liberty: From Icon to Degenerate

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In the forefront, we see the ultimate symbol of American greatness, Lady Liberty, slumped on a curb in Japan, stripped of her dignity. The torch she once held high to guide the world now replaced with a bottle of malt liquor, her veins punctured by a needle, her body tattooed with the Masonic markings of the hidden hands that have always controlled this empire. Her legs, spread and diseased, betray the truth—America has whored itself out, selling morality for profit, pimped by Wall Street, the military-industrial complex, and the political elite. Next to her, Uncle Sam’s iconic hat lies discarded like yesterday’s trash, surrounded by drug paraphernalia.

The American flag, once paraded as the ultimate symbol of pride and power, is now soiled—literally. Feces and filth stain the stars and stripes because America has defecated on its own ideals, spreading imperialism under the guise of freedom while its own people rot in the streets. A used condom beside it tells the real story: America has been screwing the world for centuries, but now, the world is watching as she falls apart.

The 9/11 Betrayal: A Nation’s Self-Inflicted Wound

In the background, history’s most grotesque theater plays out. President George W. Bush, puppet of the deep state, hands a check to Osama bin Laden in front of the flaming Twin Towers. The deal is done. The job was never about justice or patriotism—it was an inside job, a staged disaster to fuel endless war, corporate contracts, and the stripping away of civil liberties under the Patriot Act. Thousands died, not for freedom, but for profit.

The World's Revenge

And who stands in the background watching this disgrace unfold? A Japanese man, camera in hand, grinning as he captures the image of America’s collapse. Sweet revenge. Hiroshima’s mushroom cloud still lingers in the collective memory of his people, a reminder that the so-called "good guys" dropped hellfire on civilians and called it justice. Now, he gets to watch the empire that once dictated morality crumble under its own filth.

Next to him, a black man with dreadlocks and a camera, built from over 400 years of forced labor, still shackled—because let's be real, slavery never ended, it just evolved. America was built on his ancestors' backs, and yet their descendants are still fighting for basic human rights. The chains remain, symbolic of a system designed to keep them in place while pretending progress has been made.

Beside him, shadowy figures dangle from trees—strange fruit, the ghosts of lynched souls who never got justice. America, the land that preaches equality, has blood on its hands. No amount of historical revisionism can wash it away.

Then there’s the Native American, the original owner of this stolen land, wearing a shirt that says it plainly: Payback is a Bitch. Manifest Destiny, genocide, broken treaties—America was never great; it was built on slaughter. The ghosts of its crimes are not forgotten.

The End of an Era

This is the reality. America, once a self-proclaimed empire, has become a global joke. The world watches as it overdoses on its own corruption, as it sells itself for scraps, as it drowns in the blood of the innocent. The dollar is crumbling, the people are divided, and the nation is imploding from within.

The Whore of Babylon isn’t just a drawing—it’s a prophecy. Rome fell. Babylon fell. And America? America is next.

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