Okay, so I just watched Sinners, and honestly? I have thoughts. It’s like someone took a big ol’ pot of spiritual confusion, stirred in some high-gloss cinematography, sprinkled in a heapin’ helpin’ of sin, and tried to serve it up like soul food. Bless their hearts.
Now don’t get me wrong, the lighting? Gorgeous. The music? Mmm, moody and rich. And that Michael B. Jordan? Lord have mercy, that man is hotter than a Texas summer. But underneath all that sparkle? Baby, it’s a spiritual train wreck. And I don’t say that lightly.
So let’s unpack this, shall we? Because faith and discernment never go out of style. 💖📖
A Dangerous Message, but Make It Cinematic (and Seriously Misleading)
Well darlin’, since this movie is set in the old south- let me break it down for ya like we’re chattin’ over sweet tea on the front porch.
Now Sinners might come struttin’ in like it’s the belle of the ball—with its fancy camera work, moody music, and all that dramatic flair—but sugar, don’t let that pretty packaging fool ya. From the very first scene, it’s serving up a hot dish of everything the Good Lord told us to keep off our spiritual menu: greed, lust, witchcraft… and some dialog that made me clutch my pearls. Honestly, it’s like they skipped Bible study and went straight to chaos casserole.
Instead of showing how dangerous and downright detrimental to the soul those things are, the movie dresses ’em up like empowerment. But baby, just because something sparkles don’t mean it’s good for you. That’s like calling a stick of butter a vegetable—deceiving and just plain wrong.
Romans 6:23 says it best: “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” That’s not just a verse, that’s a lifeline, sugar.
These characters aren’t just testing the waters—they’re skinny dipping in the very sins God warns us about. Lust? Honey, that’s in Exodus 20:14. Sorcery? Galatians 5:19-21 says “no ma’am.” And that money obsession? 1 Timothy 6:10 calls it the root of all kinds of trouble.
Here’s the kicker: these aren’t just poor choices—they’re open invitations to a spiritual disaster. It’s like buying a designer purse and finding a rattlesnake inside. Real cute until it bites ya.
Moral of the story? Just because it’s wrapped in velvet and violins doesn’t mean it’s the truth. And sugar, when it comes to matters of the soul, we stick with the original recipe—not some off-brand version of the gospel.
Summoning Spirits? That’s a Major Spiritual No-No
Alright, this is where the tea goes from iced to down-right scalding. Now I love a good tune as much as the next gal, but this idea that music can call up spirits from the past or the future? Lord have mercy, that ain’t a playlist—it’s a portal.
Now listen here, hun—this ain’t just quirky or artsy. It’s not like burnin’ your biscuits or wearing white after Labor Day. We’re talking about dabbling in the kind of darkness that’ll get you spiritually scorched. This ain’t just “oops, I chipped a nail” dangerous—it’s “you might be messing with demons” dangerous. And by might, I mean, you definitely are. Now that’s a recipe for disaster if I ever saw one.
They try to make it look all mystical and poetic, like summoning ancestors is some sweet little séance over supper. But spiritually? That’s a ‘hell no’ if you ask me. The Good Book says it plain as day in Isaiah 8:19: “Shouldn’t people ask their God for help instead of talking to the dead?” —and trust me, that’s one source you don’t want to ignore.
I know, I know—it’s dressed up real cute, like a casserole with a crust too golden to resist. But let me tell you something: just ’cause it’s wrapped in shimmer and cultural sass doesn’t mean it’s holy. That’s not empowerment, sugar—that’s deception wearing lipstick.
And those “spirits”? They’re not your sweet Meemaw, your great-uncle, or that cool jazz singer from the 1920s. They’re deceivers- as in demons, plain and simple. The Bible’s got warnings all over the place—just check Deuteronomy 18 if you need a refresher while your cornbread bakes.
Never Invite a White Girl… EVER!!
Okay darlin’, we’re about to crank the heat up a notch, so let’s stir this pot nice and slow—because we need to talk about Miss Mary. And no, I ain’t talking about the mother of our Lord and Savior. I mean that pale little sugar cube from Sinners who waltzes into the juke joint lookin’ like a lost lamb at a gospel picnic. Bless her heart, she had that innocent “I’m-just-here-for-the-music” look, but baby, she was bringing’ more trouble than a June bug at a porch light.
Now if you’ve ever read an Anne Rice novel—or just paid attention during spooky season—you know the rule: vampires can’t enter unless you invite ‘em. And honey, that right there is a spiritual metaphor if I’ve ever seen one. You don’t open your front door to the devil just ’cause he’s wearing a bowtie and smiling real sweet.
So what does our boy Stack do? He lets her right on in, like she’s bringing biscuits instead of bad news. And Lord have mercy, the moment she steps through that door, everything starts goin’ downhill faster than butter melting on a skillet.
See, this gal Mary? She ain’t just any ol’ character. She’s a symbol—a warning wrapped in soft curls and smooth talk. Her arrival is that one tiny compromise, that one polite “sure, come on in” that ends up opening the floodgates to chaos. Of course, she’s the only white girl in the building and it’s this pale broad (like the fourth horseman of the apocalypse) who becomes this total bringer of doom, betraying the very people who welcomed her with open arms and smooth jazz.
Ephesians 4:27 says it clear as a bell: “Don’t give the devil a foothold.” And baby, Stack rolled out the red carpet.
Now the subliminal message here ain’t sayin’ you gotta side-eye every new face that walks in off the street… just the white ones. After all, you’ve got to guard your heart like it’s Mama’s prize-winning pie—because you don’t want any ol’ fork takin’ a piece of something that precious.
Racial Stereotyping? That’s So Last Season
Now, let’s curl up with this hot cup of tea we’ve been brewing and have ourselves a little heart-to-heart about the racial tension in this movie—because, honey, it’s more tangled than a ball of yarn in a kitten fight. And trust me, I know tangled—I’ve got half a dozen rescue cats and not one of ‘em respects personal space or my knittin’ basket.
So darlin’, trust me when I say this film is serving up a whole heapin’ helpin’ of ‘us versus them’ with no room for sides. Every character of color is treated like a halo-wearin’ hero, and every white character? Total villain. Irish vampires? Evil. Klan members? Obviously evil. Redeemable white characters? None. Not even one with a cute rescue arc or a redemption montage. Seriously y’all?
And let’s be clear—I am all about lifting up voices that’ve been silenced longer than my great-aunt’s gossip at a potluck. Justice is as welcome as a cat curled in my lap on a rainy day. But baby, when you swap out one set of tired stereotypes for another, that’s not progress—that’s just switchin’ collars on the same ol’ alley cat.
Let’s remember what Galatians 3:28 says: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Honey, Jesus don’t do cliques. He’s not out here sorting folks like puppies at the shelter—long-haired in one room, short-haired in the other. You know hat dog won’t hunt.
So yeah, Sinners may be tryin’ to serve “deep” and “thoughtful,” but what it really dishes out is a one-sided casserole of mistrust. And sweetheart, no matter how you dress it up, reverse prejudice still leaves a bad taste in your spiritual kibble.
Bottom line? True healing don’t come from picking a new favorite. It comes from seeing folks through God’s eyes—can I get an ‘Amen’?
Witchcraft, Bad Vibes, and Seriously False Advertising
Alright- now that the tea as cooled, let’s talk about this hot mess of a plot-line in Sinners. It’s got more knots than my poor cat after he’s rolled through a patch of burrs- starting with the scene of Smoke and his ex.
She literally pulls out some magical tricks to “bless” his mojo pouch (um, awkward) with the promise that it’ll give him strength or protection or… something vague and enchanted. But when Smoke asks the million-dollar question—why it didn’t save their baby—she just stands there, blinkin’ like a possum in headlights. No answers. No truth. Just a big ol’ bowl of nothing casserole.
Let’s call it what it is: all that hoodoo and glittery mojo pouch stuff is just Satan’s version of Etsy. It’s got the packaging, but not the power. You might fool a few folks from a distance—but when life gets real, it unravels faster than a ball of yarn in a kitten pile.
And then—Lord help us—they double down with that scene after her death, where she shows up, in all white, glowing like a Pinterest angel- cradling their baby as if she’s the queen of the cozy afterlife. Sounds sweet? Maybe. But biblically? Honey, that’s about as accurate as a weather app in July. And don’t tell me that’s just the vision in his fevered mind- honey, this is what the audience sees. That’s the point.
Witchcraft while livin’ does NOT equal angel in the afterlife.
“It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment.” – Hebrews 9:27. Ain’t no enchanted after-party if you lived life shakin’ your fist at God. Judgment is real, sugar, and you can’t charm your way out of it with crystals and sage.
A Blasphemous Ending (aka: That Was Not Okay, Sweetie)
Go ahead and get yourself a refill of sweet tea, darlin’, because it’s officially time to address this movie’s ending. Bless it. I nearly dropped my wine glass and startled all six of my cats. And that’s sayin’ somethin’.
So there’s our boy Sammie, standing tall like a Sunday school hero, completely outnumbered by a pack of fang-faced hooligans. And what does he do? He starts recitin’ the Lord’s Prayer. Hallelujah! Now at first, I’m thinking, “Go on, baby! Stand firm in your faith!” But then—hold onto your pearls y’all—the vampires start prayin’ with him! Yes ma’am, the undead, like it’s choir practice in the underworld.
I said, “Excuse me?!”
That’s not holy—it’s downright demonic. We’re talking full-on spiritual identity theft. Uh-uh, baby. That’s not reverence, that’s rehearsal for heresy.
Now Ephesians 5:11 tells us plain as pecan pie: “Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.” You hear that? The Word of God ain’t a prop for theatrics—it’s a weapon of truth. The Lord’s Prayer isn’t some edgy, mystical chant—it’s how we connect with our Heavenly Father, not some mantra for the local monsters.
What this movie tried to pull off as “symbolic” or “artsy” was just bless-your-heart blasphemy with eyeliner. And honey, no amount of fog machines or moody lighting can make that look holy- at least to those with discernment. But, you gotta remember, all those lost souls watchin’- they see that and the line between good and evil is blurred. This hat-trick leads people away from God, on purpose.
The point of this movie, or any other, is not to entertain, but to deceive. Remember that. So let’s get one thing buttered up and baked right: God’s Word is precious. Sacred. Not to be used like a spooky soundtrack by folks who have no intention of walking in the light. If it gave you the heebie-jeebies? That’s probably the Holy Spirit tuggin’ your heart like a kitten on a loose thread sayin’, “Sugar, turn it off.”
If You Didn’t Get the Hint, Here it is…
Now I love a good story as much as the next gal—especially if there’s a cat curled up nearby—but let’s call it what it is: Sinners isn’t a film, it’s a fiery TED Talk for the underworld… wearing high heels and reading from a script straight outta Satan’s vision board.
It doesn’t preach Jesus. No ma’am. It preaches chaos dressed up in couture. It swaps out the Good Word for glittery garbage, glorifies sin like it’s just gone viral, and stirs up racial tension, all by design. That ain’t ministry—that’s manipulation.
The Bible says in 1 Peter 5:8, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” That means the enemy doesn’t always show up with bloody fangs and glowing red eyes. Sometimes he comes in the form of a blockbuster film, starring all your favorite celebrities.
You see, darlin’, just because something feels powerful doesn’t mean it’s righteous. You gotta test the spirit like you test a batch of biscuits—poke it, prod it, make sure it rises for the right reason. Because sin can shimmer like sequins, but it’ll leave you emptier than a church on Super Bowl Sunday.
So let’s keep it real: this ain’t the kind of party invite you want to RSVP to. Truth may not always be in fashion, but it never goes outta style. And if you ever feel that little Holy Spirit nudge sayin’, “Mmm… somethin’ ain’t right”? Trust it, sugar. That’s your divine warning bell. Listen to it.