(January 5, 2016 at 5:16 pm)Old Baby Wrote: Despite being raised as a Pentecostal (aka "holy roller") I saw no evidence that any of the Holy Spirit Baptism experience that I was witnessing were true. I saw people falling, dancing, laughing in the spirit, speaking in tongues, prophesying...yet, underneath the surface they were just the same petty people who would turn around from talking in tongues and stick a knife in the back of one of their brethren.
It was pressed upon me to get baptised in the Holy Spirit and speak in tongues. I tried. One night a friend and I stayed at church for 10 hours straight doing nothing but praying and singing hymns, trying to call down the fire of God. Finally, I remember just bursting into tears and not knowing why. My friend started jibbering. I thought he was talking in tongues. Then, he stopped and came and started praying for me to speak in tongues. I stopped crying and started making jibberish sounds, trying to talk in tongues. Finally he said, "You spoke in tongues" and I said "No, it didn't happen... I was just making noises, but I heard you speaking in tongues." He also denied this and said that he had not. Yet, members of my church who heard our story afterward, who weren't even there when all of this occurred, assured us that we HAD spoken in tongues. The pastor told me that speaking in tongues has nothing to do with God taking control of me, but that I just need to open my mouth and start speaking and have faith that it's God.
Ah, the holy rollin' memories.
I attended Pentecostal services most of my churchgoing life, and I credit that as the source of some (not all) of my doubts towards religion. When I was baptized, I felt absolutely nothing. I sensed that everyone expected a nice show afterwards, but I didn't come through; no falling out, no tears, no elation. Nothing. For a fleeting moment, I thought maybe I felt nothing, because there was nothing...but I quickly dismissed it. Should've ran with it, but I just chalked it up to being a result of my reserved nature.
I never attempted to speak in tongues myself, because I was never able to be convince myself that it was more than made-up gibberish. I made the mistake of sharing that with my mother once, who immediately asked if I thought she was making it up when she did it. When I told her "I believe that you believe you're speaking in tongues" she hit the roof.
I got pressured into going up to the alter once, for extra special prayer with a side of olive oil, and finally felt something at long last: full blown panic. After getting slapped in the head with Extra Virgin, ten prayer warriors swarmed me like SWAT and proceeded to lay hands on me. They commenced with general hooting, hollering, and insane jibber-jabbering for several minutes, as my pastor invited/yelled for the Holy Spirit to do it's thing in me. I remember I felt hot. I felt nauseous. And I'm almost certain I felt my pastor trying to force me to fall to backwards.
But I never felt any Holy Spirit. Go figure.