July 22, 2008

The First Time I was Slain in the Spirit

Mom took me to a boo-hoong-eh (special night time worship service) where the famous visiting pastor was slaying folks by the hundreds on an auditorium stage. it's the early 80's, in Philadelphia, and these are all the rage. In line I can see and hear everything but the thing that terrifies me is the pastor shouting how our faith would allow the spirit to take us, meaning if we were real Christians then we'd be slain in the spirit but if not then our disbelief would be revealed. At that time and still now to my mother and most of her generation, I think to not be a real Christian is the most devastating thing that could happen, only a notch above being gay which in itself for them is the same as not being Christian.

I am so nervous because though I thought I was Christian I could never really know for sure and even up to the moment when the pastor grips my forehead while shouting in tongues and prayer I was pretty sure you could just see all the disbelief blinking loudly in my face. My mother goes down quickly, no surprise there, she just falls backward, limp as can be on the ground, a fitting reward for her tremendous faith and before I know it the pastor has gripped my forehead tightly with his fingers shouting in tongue above my head and with a mighty thrust he shoves me backward into the arms of his assistant who I didn't realize was behind me. The assistant catches me gracefully, laying me down in the same beat, moving onto the next person, before I even knew it.

I laid there, eyes closed, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, I realized I had fooled them. It was such a relief. I was not going to be humiliated and exposed in front of hundreds of people much less my mother. I was going to get to keep my rock tapes. And my cigarettes.

I'm feeling so relieved and out of the spotlight I turn my head ever so slightly to check in on my mother and see what a real slaying looks like (where does the Holy Spirit take you? how long are you unconscious?). I open my eyes infinitesimally and then a little more because... my mother is peering right back at me.

Our eyes fly open and despite her desperate blinking at me to close my eyes again we can't stop the convulsions of laughter ripping through our bodies.

posted at 12:12 PM by jenn

Filed under: personal history

Comments:

07/22/08 05:08 PM

oh man. i had to laugh out loud with this one.
i too was dragged into this kind of thing all the time when i was growing up. i should write of few before i forget. :)

08/02/08 12:04 PM

Hi there, oh witty one!

Rb here and stumbled upon your blog thru Ang's. We were just talking about you to friends the other night and I was thinking how I would love a lil Jenn time. I just read this entry and loved it!! So true! Thankfully, my Christian upbringing was not hyper-dramatic, but still had to hide the 'mix tapes' that had like Red Hot Chili Peppers, Rump Shaka, and the beloved Daisy Dukes song. But much to my surprise, my dad found my Pearl Jam cassette and made me read the lyrics to "Jeremy" to my mother. Reading the part about the "harmless little F**K" was a shameful part of my teens...

OH well....

Hope you are well. You are missed in TN!

rb

08/02/08 12:04 PM

Hi there, oh witty one!

Rb here and stumbled upon your blog thru Ang's. We were just talking about you to friends the other night and I was thinking how I would love a lil Jenn time. I just read this entry and loved it!! So true! Thankfully, my Christian upbringing was not hyper-dramatic, but still had to hide the 'mix tapes' that had like Red Hot Chili Peppers, Rump Shaka, and the beloved Daisy Dukes song. But much to my surprise, my dad found my Pearl Jam cassette and made me read the lyrics to "Jeremy" to my mother. Reading the part about the "harmless little F**K" was a shameful part of my teens...

OH well....

Hope you are well. You are missed in TN!

rb

01/08/09 03:56 PM

Heehe!! That was great! I grew up with very strict Christian parents, too. In fact, I remember my mom freaking out upon hearing my brother play "The Reflex" by Duran Duran. I'm still trying to figure out what was so dirty about it. My brother didn't have to tell me to hide my Violent Femmes cassette with Day After Day on it.

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