"Christianese"

I'm going to let you in on a little secret, I am not a native born Mainer, I'm "from away".  Shameful, I know...  I moved with my family from a suburb of NY to southern Maine when I was nine.  Both my parents were born and bred here, my father in southern Maine, and my mother from way up north in The County, very different cultures.  We spent most of my summers in Maine with both sides of the family, but it was my mother's family that had the greatest influence on me.  Life in The County was and still is unhurried, a place of solace surrounded by vast forests and majestic mountains.  Wildlife is abundant and if you are wise, you drive with your eyes wide open at night, because the moose and the deer are not exactly in simpatico with the Maine DOT.

My mother's family was home away from home.  Her sister C the Elder is my mother's younger sister by less than two years,  are very close, so much so they are look, sound, and carry themselves alike.  (I will refer to her as CTE because both my youngest sister and my daughter are named for her.)  CTE is a second mother to both me and my sisters.  We are close in age to her three children, so when we traveled north, we stayed with her and her family.  Bedtime was the time when my mother and aunt (a practicing catholic) would lay down with us and  talk to us a bout life and spiritual matters.  One topic that received much emphasis was......wait for it......sex.  And that was the gist, WAIT FOR IT.  My grandmother had driven the fear of God with regards to sex into all of her twelve children, ironic...  In turn, we were taught to keep our hands off and pants on until marriage, to do otherwise would break God's heart.  Not exactly hellfire and brimstone, but what child doesn't want to please their

parents?  I couldn't bear the thought of breaking God's heart and especially bringing shame to my family. 

When we moved, we landed in the southern part of Maine and for the first time in my life we started attending church together as a family.  We attended an Episcopal church that wasn't too far from our home and immediately found kinship with several of the families.  We often stopped by for coffee and shared meals together.  There were usually guitars in tow and while the parents sang and worshiped the Lord, the kids would slip in an out of the house playing hide-and-seek, board games, and  the like.  All throughout our visits I picked up the vernacular, I like to call it "christianese".  The moments I would stop to add my voice to the music, I be swept away feeling God in our midst!  I knew He had a call on my life.  This is not to say that I was some sort of angel.  Um...yeah...no.  I was sassy, boy crazy and a terrible flirt. 

The father at our church was a relatively new one when we started attending.  He had more charismatic leanings than what the congregation was used to.  I remember when  was twelve, a group from New Hampshire came to visit and we had a small youth revival.  If you are not familiar with christianese, a "revival" is an event when special speakers are brought in to put extra emphasis on how we miss the mark as Christians.  We may THINK we are doing it right by attending church regularly, giving money to the church, volunteering...but no....let's not get ahead of ourselves.  Are you giving ENOUGH money?  Is it a sacrifice?  Are you willing to dedicate your life to God?  Is he calling you to ministry?  What about your "thought life"?  Are you unforgiving?  Are you thinking naughty thoughts? 

This particular revival didn't just focus on the above, the point of focus was being "baptized in the Holy Spirit", "speaking in tongues", being "slain in the spirit".  Christianese for going "bat shit crazy".  "Define, "bat shit crazy."", you say? Certainly:  

"Speaking in tongues"- the ability to speak in languages you don't know through the power of the Hoyly Spirit, a.k.a. "tongues of angels", a.k.a. gibberish. 

Even as a child, I was skeptical about this phenomenon.  I may only speak one language, but when I heard foreign languages, I could detect a pattern.  When you hear someone speaking in tongues, it sounds more like a syllable salad.  It is usually the same sounds being muttered over and over, maybe the emphasis changes on some syllables, but the only pattern that emerges is something akin to "EIEIO".  When I started attending an Assemblies of God as a young adult, I noticed that week after week, during church services (and I do mean services, Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday nights) the same few people would give a message in tongues, and the same few people would give the interpretation.  The message in tongues was always the same, but the interpretation, as vague and generalized as it was, would vary.  But who am I to judge?

"Slain in the spirit"-  this usually happens at the end of services and especially during revivals.  A pastor or layperson places their hands on you and begins to pray.  A small group will gather around you in anticipation of seeing the spirit move, but mainly to catch you before slamming into the ground unconscious.  Well, not so much unconscious as swooning, Fainting Lite.

The first time I witnessed this was during the aforementioned revival.  I was terrified!  Here I was surrounded by all my friends in the youth group some of who were now wailing, raising hands in worship, crying, some laughing, some speaking in tongues, and then some being "slain".  I was a little freaked out, okay... A LOT freaked out, so much so that I was crying.  I hid in the vestry until this manic display of  "The Holy Spirit" subsided.  When I emerged to sneak off to the fellowship hall, the Father stopped me to ask why I was upset, being an ugly crier, it was hard to miss.  I expressed my unease and he reassured me that everything was okay and offered to pray for me.  Here I was, twelve years old, listening to someone I respected, trusted, even loved, offer to pray for me.  As soon as I closed my eyes, and before his hand could touch my forehead, I was down.  I don't remember if someone caught me, but I do recall feeling surrounded by color, warmth, and basking in the presence of God.  I was smiling, and peace washed over me. 

Let's back up the glory train for a moment.  Anyone experiencing high levels of stress, whether it is based on fear, joy, relief, etc... is going to have some sort of physical response.  Generations ago, girls my age then were being "slain" by the Beatles, Elvis, Jimmy Page, etc...  This is not unique to Christianity, it is a psychological phenomenon.  I know this, NOW.  Did being "slain in the spirit" benefit me?  No, I did not become angelically good or receive super human abilities.  Did this experience harm me?  No, but it did reinforce my beliefs and kept me on the path to fundamentalism during my 20s, 30s, and into my 40s.