Gyrating all the way to the heavens!

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 also encourages dance in praise (Psalm 149 and 150). It appears that charismatic churches have taken this quite seriously considering the dance moves they pull.

As much as I am open to different forms of praise and worship, I doubt God would be chuffed by anyone shaking their crotch and humping in the air in the name of praise.

I was raised in Anglicanism Christian faith, in the Anglican church, where I was baptised, confirmed and still worship and praise. 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 self-professed 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 I must say that my visits to charismatic churches, often referred to as ‘fire’, has been the most interesting. On one occasion that stands out in my memory, I visited this one church and was startled by the dancing. The pastor 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 modern 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. To my left, one man 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 stood in close proximity 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 because I would probably collapse if it landed on my forehead. 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. I also couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t perhaps overcome by the spirit of lust because at intervals, he would turn towards me with his eyes closed and wiggle his crotch furiously, shaking his waist madly!