Gyrating all the way to the heavens

I was raised in protestant reform Christian faith, in the church of Anglican, where I was baptised and confirmed. Even when I wander into the wilderness, when I return to my senses, this is the church I return to. It is a church cemented on communion, praise and sermon. The method of worship is generally sombre and while song is part of the worship, and praise can be electric, it is often not the roof shattering variety. I however appreciate that Christianity is multi-faceted and that children of God worship and praise differently. Most people obviously tend to hold the conviction that their church is the best and worth being joined, so they go on a recruitment drive. I wholeheartedly believe that although we may differ on certain aspects, we all believe in one God. It is for this reason that I usually accept invitations to visit different churches once in a blue moon. I have visited several churches over the years: Methodist, Lutheran, Assemblies, St John, ZCC and so forth. But my visit to charismatic churches has been most interesting. The methods of worship and belief system are a bit different. There is never a dull moment in a charismatic church. Their perception of God, reality and the happenings in our lives are engaging. I find it intriguing that some people think that miracles can govern their lives that money, marriage, status can fall from the sky like manna. But what is more, the choice of worship really had me eating from the palm of my hand. On this one particular occasion, the pastor told the congregants that what they wanted would come to pass, “by fire by force”. He revved up the congregation and asked them to praise their God or leave the church compound. As if on cue, the music started, the earth-shattering singing started and the dancing began. There was a lot of cheering and gyrating. For a moment it felt like I was at that seedy nightclub called Trekkers considering the dance moves being pulled around me. There was a lot of waist jiggling, get-downs, jumping and contemporary sbujwa moves. The energetic moves went on with the high tempo song that went on forever. I stood around swaying shyly. The couple to my right was gyrating and moving so close to each other’s crotches that I blushed and looked away. The man then started doing the chicken dance, flapping his arms wildly and stomping madly, with his eyes wide open and tongue stuck out. He twirled at intervals, and then did a kick in the air. This was a dangerous move, because I was standing next to him. When he kicked madly in the air, his shoe nearly hit my forehead. I was terrified. I had to duck to avoid being struck by his kick-n-goboza shoe. That foot was being kicked with such force that if it landed on my head, I would probably collapse. At that moment, the only miracle I wanted was to disappear because I could tell that if I lingered around any longer, I would leave as a casualty case. All cultures have dancing and singing as an integral part of their lifestyle. In African communities for example, dance and song are part of ancestral worship and have extended to praising God. Most churches rooted in African tradition and custom, inculcate a lot of hands clapping, feet stomping, swaying, with coordinated dance routines. The Bible encourages praise too. Psalm 149 Verse 3 states, Let them praise his name with dancing, let them sing praises to him with timbrel and lyre. Psalm 150 continues, Praise him with resounding cymbals. Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. This is something that charismatic churches have taken quite seriously looking at the moves pulled. I will have to polish my dancing skills because I have two left feet. In no time at all, I will be the one gyrating and going up and down with energetic fervour. But I still have reservations about gyrating like one is in a nightclub. I doubt God would be too pleased with anyone shaking their crotch and humping in the air in the name of praise.