They catch you as soon as you come in.
The first thing seen by worshippers entering the United Pentecostal Church of Gainesville is the welcome center, manned by three women in long skirts and unassuming button-ups - the remnants of some generation long gone, swept away in a sea of violent video games, celebrity sex tapes, pederast priests and Scientology. My first impression was that my friend Corey and I were diving face-first into an antiquated past (but with snakes, because my Mom tried to tell me that Pentecostals were like a cross between "Deliverance" and "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom").
Respectfully taking a seat in the back pew, I was still forced to confront this anachronism as the three women came upon me in one fell swoop. Pamphlets in hand, these women came to proselytize.
After assuming that Corey and I were married (most of the congregation, no matter how young, had spouses), and after we surprised them by saying we were UF students, the welcoming committee introduced us to a number of people, all of which, I'm sure, remember our names.
I met Charlie, a Santa Fe College sophomore who sometimes ran a Bible study for college students and was majoring in finance. I was under the impression that Charlie was not really into being designated as a "leader" among any sort of "demographic," but as soon as the church service started, I saw the Holy Spirit become alive in him. I should have known as soon as he said he was majoring in finance that the look of skepticism in his eyes was actually just a look of genuine confusion.
After meeting Charlie, scores of bright-eyed Pentecostals came up to greet Corey and me. I was touched by about seven well-meaning women who attempted to assimilate me into their maternal, Pentecostal order through neighborly affection. The only thing they had in common was their sincerity; I met people who were white, black, Hispanic, elderly and younger than me. Everyone I met was earnestly excited to see a newcomer and tried very hard to make a good impression. Also noticeable was the amount of interracial interaction. I saw various white-colored Michelin Men say "I love you" to various men of color. The only time I ever saw this kind of interaction was in the Dave Matthews Band video for "Everyday" (where a nerdy white man hugs…Tiki Barber?) and between Clay and his white adoptive parents on "South of Nowhere."
The service began vaguely with everyone standing and swaying to a hymn and its accompanying PowerPoint. After this was over, Pastor J.W. Arnold called for a greeting period, which, for Corey and I, had been going on for 30 minutes.
After the greeting began the bible study. This is what I had heard about from various Pentecostals all evening. One woman told me that Arnold had been out for 13 weeks and that I should prepare for an "experience of a lifetime." Another man (who all evening rocked out with conveniently augmented devil horns on his hands) told me that this evening was all about "rock 'n' roll."
While the preacher's bible interpretation drove the service, the response of the laypeople fueled the preacher. Cries of "Hallelujah!" and "Amen!" peppered the sermon, which lasted for a little more than an hour. Arnold boomed like Orson Welles over a "Mercury Program" radio broadcast, sweat gleaming on his brow and his veins bulging with consternation. In fact, Arnold's preaching itself was almost about a "war of the worlds" in that he often personified God and the devil as two enemies contending for reign over our souls.
Arnold stressed in his sermon three main ideas: the priesthood (and god-like potential) of all believers, the "oneness" of God, and the idea of God as a "person" one can run to for sanctuary in the times of earthly crisis.
If the importance of the laity wasn't stressed enough in the call-and-response shouting style of the sermon, Arnold made it a point to "call out" Catholicism for its belief in the church hierarchy and for its stoic prayer.
The final tenet, the thematic centerpiece of the sermon, was on God being a person and a safe house for a believer in trouble. Arnold addressed his congregation like he knew their problems personally. He talked about the stress of "getting back your license" as he looked at one particular man. He also spoke about issues that were associated with one specific, obviously predominating, socioeconomic background. He blatantly (and eerily) acknowledged the domestic abuse going on in the many of the homes of the church members and elicited responses from many of the women.
He talked about the dollar being at an all-time low compared to the euro and the pound, and talked about those who were really "squeezed" financially. I expected a litany of "they took our jobs!" to come next, but no dice. Basically, the sermon was tailored to the poor and struggling.
The content of the sermon made me think of African-American adaptations of Christianity that put the focus on Jesus as the ultimate sufferer who made all of the congregation's problems light in comparison. Arnold used colloquialisms in his speech and in his bible readings, which called for people to lift their hands in praise, sing with their hearts and play musical instruments - all as according to selected passages that call for exuberant worship, especially drawing from the Psalms. This didn't appeal to me because, personally, I like someone who can speak correctly. I don't want to think that the "word of God" is "ain't" or "doo-doo."
As born-again Christians, Pentecostals place great weight on repentance. Arnold continually made references to "past mistakes" and the need to overcome them to live "in the now" and "for God." Like Catholicism, the Pentecostals think that believing must be supplemented with good acts, rejecting the traditional Protestant notion of "salvation by faith alone." Pastor Arnold said, "Every day above the ground is a good day." The difference between Pentecostals and other Christians is their emphasis on the Holy Ghost. The pastor brought up speaking in tongues, but that never actually occurred. According to Corinthians, "everyone…hath a tongue" and therefore must use it to praise the Lord. Pentecostals do not consider speaking in tongues to be an "optional gift," but something that everyone will perform if cajoled correctly. I was also expecting to see the ritual of snake handling; unfortunately, I was unable to experience it. "
So what does it all add up to? The call-and-response, the cry to live in the present, the speaking in tongues, the playing of instruments, the worship in dance and the community so close-knit it can smell newcomers from a mile away? Gratification. Pentecostals certainly put an emphasis on overcoming hardship.
Their spritual-esque songs, to the focus on movement and the idea of using God as a refuge are all similar to ways in which African-Americans used Christianity to overcome the emotional weight of slavery. Instead of treating the service like a solemn, esoteric ceremony, they treated it like a party where everyone was invited.
While the Pentecostals focus on words like love, mercy, compassion and renewal, the majority of their rituals celebrate earthly life and fun (as long as the fun involves worshipping God). Seeing the Pentecostals worship showed me just how adaptive the religion can be to certain niches.
In this case, those who are generally poor and uneducated and believe in a strong fellowship and church community to supplant the lack of congruency they feel with modern society, and those who like to bring together elements of African-American tradition, experience-based worship and restorationist zeal for one hell of a sermon.
Attending one church service might have no effect on the weight of my soul, but at least it has informed me of one fact: Christianity will not die anytime soon.
Like a cockroach, it can survive in any condition or circumstance and evolve into whatever it needs to in order to survive in various splinters of our culture.
Allie Conti is an English and journalism sophomore.
