Close Encounters of the Snake-Handling Kind.
One of the most unusual religious rituals I have experienced happened one fall evening during my fifteenth year. A girl, whom I will call Rachel, was a new person at my school. I befriended her, and thought I knew her pretty well until the night she ask me to attend church with her. She had gone to church with me on several occasions so I did not question her church. Being nave and brought up in a Southern Baptist church, I thought most all religions were the same. I soon found out I was quite wrong.
The night came and I was all dressed up in my Sunday best. Being fifteen, there was a great deal of nervousness and excitement built up about visiting a new church and meeting new people. Her parents picked me up and we started on our journey. We went about twenty miles in the country, where there is no towns around for miles. We turned off the black top road onto a dirt road and traveled that for about five miles. We are in the sticks. I mean the kind you would see in the movie Deliverance. As we pulled up and got out to go inside, I was waiting for the banjos to start playing. The building on the outside was nothing more than a warehouse. The inside of the church looked no different than any other church, and of course Rachel's family had to sit on the very front row. It seemed innocent enough until they started to sing. I would soon find out that this was not a regular Baptist church. .
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As the piano played and the congregation sang, some of the women began to moan and jerk. I honestly thought this very stout lady standing next to us was having a grand mal seizure, and I was going to have to move or be crushed. I even tried to get Rachel to help the lady but she only laughed and explained that she was anointed and being filled with the spirit. I knew at that point I did not want to be an anointed one. As I watched, nearly everyone began to dance, and moan, and some were talking and chanting in a foreign tongue.