Black Hebrew Israelite Bishop Dies Days After Fearing Church Pu…

NEW YORK — Michael Lubrin felt heartbroken when police told him his son, 31-year-old Kim Lubrin, was dead. Years earlier, when his son joined the Black Hebrew Israelite group, the father saw a change. 

On a windy, 40-degree day on Nov. 2, Kim jumped off the roof of an apartment building in West Harlem, a short walk from the religious group’s headquarters and his own home, according to family members, police reports and surveillance footage. The Lubrin family believe there are more elements to Kim’s death than simply a suicide. 

Kim had progressed up the ranks of the secretive, close-knit Israelite Church of God in Jesus Christ (ICGJC) in Harlem, which has a history of financially and emotionally pressuring members and ousting members for alleged transgressions. The Lubrin family said church members obtained Kim’s cell phone immediately after his death. Days before his jump, Kim had expressed fear of repercussions from the church over some sin he had committed, family members told Religion Unplugged. 

“My son called, and he says, ‘Daddy, I’m struggling with my spiritual life. I was supposed to be more focused but I didn’t stay focused, I sinned in the flesh,’” Michael told Religion Unplugged. He asked Kim if he had a girlfriend. No. A boyfriend? No. Is the church going to kick you out? “I said, Kim, what is the problem? He tells me, Daddy, you don’t know my church… you never know what they can do.”

Shortly after that call, Kim met with church officials on Zoom to discuss his sin, according to his father.

Black Hebrew Israelites are known for their confrontational-style street preaching of unusual beliefs that Black Americans, West Indians, Latinos and Natives are the true, biblical Jews of the Bible. Most Hebrew Israelites, including ICGJC, teach that Caucasians, Asians, Jews and gay people are heathens and enemies akin to Satan himself. Last year, the fringe group made national news for being linked to the fatal shooting of two Orthodox Jews in Jersey City, New Jersey and for their role inciting the Covington Catholic standoff at the Lincoln Memorial initially misreported in the media.

Michael, who attends a Seventh Day Adventist Church in Brooklyn, tried to talk to his son about the Black Hebrew Israelite faith, but that always seemed to cause arguments. The son remained a member of the church for more than a decade. 

“I begged him to show me the church, but he never showed me,” Michael said.  

The ICGJC meets at 1941 Madison Avenue in the heart of Harlem, surrounded by Black history and cultural icons like the National Black Theatre, several jazz clubs and Sylvia’s Southern food restaurant, along with newer attractions like the Black Ink tattoo shop, which is off limits to Black Hebrew Israelites. 

Two high-ranking ex-members of ICGJC who left in 2016 after decades of involvement told Religion Unplugged the organization exercises cult-like control over its members, requiring them to ask permission to miss any services, even for a funeral or birthday, and threatening ex-communication for sins like sexual immorality, acts of violence and using narcotics. Even showing up two minutes late to the Sabbath is enough to be told you’re wicked, they said.

“We know members who leave, a lot of them, they need to seek psychiatric help because of the abuse that happens,” Ivan, an ex-member, told Religion Unplugged. He did not want his last name published. “What’s taught is that if you’re not in there [in the group] you’re wicked and going to hell.” 

Noel Sanchez, a former bishop in the church and ex-member, said many ex-members of ICGJC “now decades later think something's going to happen to them, something violent. Like you’re going to hit by a truck or your family is going to burn in their house or you’re going to walk in the middle of a gun fight and get shot… the ultimate thing is you go to hell.”

The church also requires heavy financial support, even coercing members to rack up credit card debt to pay a minimum 20% of their income each month to the church, in addition to other fees. Their former leader Jermaine Grant, called their Holy God Sent Comforter and Chief High Priest Tazadaqyah, was sentenced to 18 months in prison for stealing church funds before he died of the coronavirus at age 44 in April. Sanchez said Grant once threw him to the ground for questioning him, giving him a bloody mouth. The church did not respond to requests for comment.

The ex-members remember three other suicides within the church over the years and cited rumors of foul play in one death, but the police determined the case lacked evidence. 

They also remember the day Kim first visited the organization as a teenager, and watched him grow into a young man in the community. Kim was very poised, reserved, respectful and courteous, they said, a good man who followed the church protocol. 

While in high school in Brooklyn, Kim’s friend invited him and his cousin Dillon to the church. The leaders required them to place their cell phones in a basket before entering. After that first service, Dillon never returned to the church, but Kim was drawn to the group. He stayed active with the group for nearly 15 years. 

Part of the appeal, according to the ex-members, is a church that recognizes the pain of racism and elevates the Black and Brown experience. After all, they believe they are God’s true chosen race. 

“Every other ethnicity has a god that looks like them,” Ivan said. “God is Black, the Jews are Black and these are the 12 tribes of Israel — that draws people in, especially if you’re someone who has never read the Bible or was misled in the past or didn’t believe in God. The indoctrination is, ‘We’re a nation in exile and we’re building the nation back up.’”

Once you’re in, Ivan said, everything changes.

Earlier this year, Kim’s family noticed he started wearing more secular, Western clothing, not the religious garments worn by the church. Michael was happy about Kim’s change in appearance and believed that God was answering his prayers. Then in July, Kim moved out of his father’s home in Brooklyn to a brownstone apartment in Harlem, a few blocks from the church.

A few days before his fatal leap, Kim called many of his family members to tell them he loved them. 

“I say to Kim, ‘Excuse me? You're talking like you are about to die!’,” Michael said. “My son says ‘No’, so I went my merry way and didn’t think anything of it. That was Friday, not knowing that Monday, my son would commit suicide.” 

Michael believes Kim was indoctrinated. 

“I believe that because he was struggling in the faith, somebody indoctrinated this boy to do what he did,” Michael said. “Maybe the church told him he had to redeem himself after his struggle.”

The family said they knew something was wrong when Kim’s mother tried to call her son to talk about what was bothering him, and an unknown woman answered the phone, saying she found the phone on the street. The woman said she would give the phone to Kim’s dad, who was in the neighborhood, but before he arrived, one of Kim’s friends came by to pick up the phone, promising he could give the phone to its owner faster. The man told Michael he left the phone inside Kim’s apartment. 

Michael became suspicious after he couldn’t find Kim’s phone and filed a missing persons report. While trying to file the report, police informed him Kim died three days earlier. To retrieve Kim’s electronic devices, Michael has to go to surrogate court. He believes that those items will shed some light on the conversations Kim had with the church, if conversations aren’t already deleted. 

Michael stopped returning calls from Religion Unplugged after his son’s funeral on Nov. 15 and hasn’t confirmed if he has picked up the cell phone and laptop that belonged to his son. Police did not release their report on Kim’s death and offered no comment on their investigation beyond noting the death was ruled a suicide.

Kim’s relatives say goodbye at his open casket in Caribe Funeral Home in Brooklyn Nov. 15, 2020. Photo by Meagan Clark.

In surveillance footage obtained by the police, Micheal saw his son’s last minutes leading up to his death. Kim walked up to the roof alone, sat down on the railing and then let himself drop to the ground below. When Michael watched his son plummet, the video stopped before the end because the cops didn’t know if Michael could handle the graphic images. But Micheal insisted.  He watched his son plunge all the way to the ground to his death. 

“I said, ‘Lord! Look at what the boy did to himself!’ I needed closure for me,” Michael said. “I saw it with my own eyes and I analyzed the situation.” Michael said he wonders if someone, perhaps someone in the church, coerced his son to kill himself. 

NYPD detectives did not comment on whether they believe Kim was coerced. Michael was informed of the detail of his son’s death at NYPD’s 32 Precinct in Harlem. 

At Kim’s funeral service Nov. 15 at Caribe Funeral Home in Brooklyn, his cousins and childhood friends described him as a prankster, always making people laugh. As a kid, he loved to play Pokemon. He used to film his own version of the MTV show Punk’d, hosted by Ashton Kutcher, around Manhattan with a friend. He would freeze to a still position in department stores to get people to react. One friend shared how Kim helped him become comfortable dancing in public and letting loose. Kim also became an advocate for healthy eating, trying to create awareness about what ingredients are found in fast food. For a time, he gave up eating meat. 

After the service, friends who knew Kim in high school said he changed when he joined the Black Hebrew Israelite church. “He was a fun guy always making people laugh, that all changed when he joined that church,” said Dillon, a cousin of Kim’s. 

There was no sign of any members associated with the Black Hebrew Isrealite church at the funeral, though at least one ex-member of the faith attended. While he was there he spoke with family about the church, calling the church “a cult.” 

Pastor Leonard Laurencin from Adventist Fellowship Church in Brooklyn gave a heartfelt closing to the service. 

“My recollection of Kim was a young man who was full of love, very quiet, unassuming but very friendly,” he said. “He reached out to everyone in a very unique way, not in a way of arresting your attention. You could sense that he was very unique. Brother Michael always asked me to pray for his son. I sensed the deep love he had for his son… Hence the reason why I indulge you to suspend our one-sided judgment and allow the Lord to be the judge and jury.”

Kim’s sister Wendy James read a Bible verse through tears from 2 Corinthians 4:17-18. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

“Today is one of the saddest days of my life. I am hurt and even angry, understanding that there are no simple answers,” she said. “As painful as it is, we can only turn to God for strength and comfort... At this moment it seems impossible, but in time we pray that we will understand. He’s gone but will never be forgotten.”