Early
2004
Sunday
Central
Hotel (Christ Embassy)
Kano
11:26
For the umpteenth time, she brought her sweet pouty lips close to my right
ear and said, “Baby, please go to the front.” I moved my head
slightly to the left jus so my ear could brush against those two pair
of heaven on her face. She drew back immediately as if she’d come
in contact wit’ an electric field, I winked as she slowly shook her
head wit’ a what-am-I-goin’-to-do-wit’-you look on her face.
smiIin’, I looked down at my Nokia 3310 and pretended to be readin’
a message that jus’ came through. From the corner of my eye I could
see she was still starin’ at me. She wasn’t buyin’ my little
production. I gave up and looked into her big beautiful eyes (which
appeared to always look surprise and innocent), “Okay, next time am
gon step out” I promised.
Out
front, I saw that a sizeable number of people had already stepped
out, ready and patiently waitin’ to learn. In my mind, I willed the
pastor to get the party started and save me from makin’ that long
trip to the front of the congregation but I was so wrong ‘cause he
kept temporizin’ like he was ready to wait me out while his agent,
miss beautiful lips (my girlfriend at the time) wear my resistance
thin.
“Now
is the time for you to yield to the spirit,” the pastor’s voice
boomed through the speakers as the pianist teased out a somber tune
out of his black and white ivories. Churches have learned the
soothing and hypnotic effect that shit (piano playin’ gently in the
background while the pastor whip God’s children into a frenzy) has
on the human psyche and they are puttin’ it to great use. I’ve
often wonder if the 21st
century pastors study psychology and some other techniques as part of
their theological studies. The mike technique of some of these
Pentecostal ministers will put many MCs to shame. They know how and
when to breathe heavy into the mike, when to fade away from it, and
they do all that wit an eye on the atmosphere in the church.
“If
you would stop resisting, this special gift can be your today,” the
pastor persisted. “I know you’re still sitting in the
congregation so am going to give you a few more seconds to make your
way here and be part of this great experience,” for a brief moment
the pastor’s eyes seemed to have met mine, or may be I jus imagined
it.
11:40
Pouty
lips poked me on the ribs and repeated her earlier plea; I kept a
straight face like I was lost on some kind of spiritual journey.
Shawtie continued chippin’ away at my defiance and when she
stopped, it was only to draft in our friend (J) into the war against
me. Sittin’ on either side of me, they came at me wit barrages of
c’mons and please. I gave in. There was only so much a nigga can do
when two beautiful chicks got your ass in the middle. Man wasn’t
built to resist freaky godly women, or was he?
As I
walked to the front, I felt tens of curious eyes burned into my back,
watchin’ my every move. I took my place on the far right of the
line up and waited for the gift. It was as if the pastor had delayed
the whole gig because of me (ah ha, there I go massagin’ my own ego
again), as soon as I took my spot, he signaled the choir to press
stop on their singin’ (but the keyboardist played on of course) and
got the party started.
“Start
speaking whatever comes to mind. Do not resist. Speak!” he said as
he pranced up and down the length of the lineup. ”open yourself up
and accept the gift”
He
started layin’ hands on folks from the other end of the line. As he
did, he instructed them to speak and not be shy. I took a sideway
glance at the people down the line; I saw that folks already broke
into a strange languages. I tried to speak like the pastor said but
nada came out, so I bowed my head and jus prayed in English. Couldn’t
afford to look out of place among these obedient children, could I?
Few
minutes later, I cracked open my left eye jus a tiny bit to see the
pastor annoitin’ the person next to me. As he got close, I closed
my eyes, the tension got big. I could hear the nigga speakin’ in
tongues and fallin’ to the ground as he got touched by the pastor.
Oh men!
I said to myself, calm the fuck down sonny, relax and receive....
Sunday
16
July 2012
13:04
The
atmosphere was electric; folks were slippin’ into spiritual realm
all over the place, some were laughin’ (not a ha ha kind of
laughter), others were “speakin’ in tongue.” The pastor was
fired up as he moved among the congregation, touchin’ and prayin’
for folks. It was a great time to be in church.
13:11
The
ushers rushed to catch a woman who had jus been gripped by a higher
power before she toppled over in her chair. The man sittin’ next to
the woman looked far removed from what jus happened beside him. The
pastor noticed the man’s demeanor and said, “you look too
serious. Smile”
All
eyes were on the pastor and the man (like 2pac), folks were watchin’
this little exchange wit some kinda amused curiosity. The more the
pastor told the nigga to smile, the more the nigga cast his face in
iron. In that moment in time, even Kevin Hart would have failed to
get a smile out of this dude, it was as if he was sayin’ “give it
up, pastor, you’re now rockin’ wit the hulk”
Back
to ‘04
…I closed my eyes and dropped my head a
lil’. I prayed silently, makin’ a show of movin’ my lips so
that a nigga doesn’t appear to be deliberately resistin’. As the pastor’s hand hit my
forehead, I planted my feet firmly to the ground, makin’ sure if a
nigga must fall to the ground, it’d be by the Holy Ghost and not by
any lose of balance. I got touched but I didn't get that funky feelin' some of the others got...
Outro
I’ve
never spoken in tongue and I’ll probably never will…and guess
what? I have never felt out of place in a roomful of foreign tongue
spittin’ folks. Why? Well, I read the bible and my understandin’
of the good book is a little different from the way some of these
pastors see things. Some think the gift of speakin’ in tongue can
be taught. Pure balderdash, if you ask me!
Oh, you
think am speakin’ heresy or blasphemy, huh?
*grabs
the bible, the Dob’s Urban version, of course* ’’
“Would
love y’all to speak in tongue…but what use is speakin’ in
tongue if you got nobody to translate’’ 1 Cor. 14 vs. 5.
“And
they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and they began to speak in
other language, as the spirit gave them word… Act 2 vs. 4 - 11
Folks
who heard the disciples speakin’ in tongue were shocked to hear
their different languages being spoken these niggas. Did I hear you
say whoa! My thought exactly, speakin’ in tongue is not some’ you
can learn to do or some’ that can be forced. Speakin’ in tongue
is not some’ Rababababa Oh God Rabosayata gibberish, No sir I aint
buyin’ it!
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