Imagine you are flying high above a crowd, seeing it from a distance. First you notice a group of people, they seem to belong to each other; it is almost as if they were one organism, acting in concert, and yet there are a few hiccups here and there in the smooth movement. Already at a distance you can hear them singing and fellowshipping together. When you get closer you discover that they are in reality doing many different things at the same time. They stand, sit, clap, dance, and move about the place, all in an orderly manner. You fly even closer and begin to notice their diversity and individuality, the way they dress, their age and gender, their individual style. Curious, you want to know more and zoom in on them, trying to read their emotions and body language. Some of them may appear exhausted, some anxious, some bored. Yet many seem elated, exuberant, or just plainly content. This is where the researcher would ask them who they are, what they are doing and how they feel, and in doing so, come to understand their world a little better.
In this chapter, a similar zooming in takes place. I start on a broad scale, discussing ways in which worship rituals build community; move closer to examine ritual action, kinetic movement, and dance; closer again to elaborate on the role of dress, and finally culminate in a discussion of emotions and feelings. In all of these themes I look out for differences and similarities between my two case churches, as well as connections to trends within the wider pentecostal-charismatic tradition. I am also on the watch for tensions—scratches on the smooth surface—indicating complexity and ambiguity in worship.
You may wonder what these themes have in common. My answer is embodiment and affectivity, subsumed under the umbrella orthopathos (right passion/affection). As stated in Chapter 2, “ritual is embodied”;1 it is overt human action. Such human action, when performed in concert, can create community and form faith. Ritual is also sensory; it utilizes and evokes the sensory domain, and there is no way to do so but through embodiment. In ritual, bodies act and sense, but they also feel. Emotion and affectivity cannot be separated from embodiment, because human beings feel with their bodies. Ritual engages
At the same time, Pentecostals are known to be especially open towards the embodied and affective dimensions of faith. Theirs is a spirituality that celebrates God’s immediate presence, rests in the arms of the Father, and strives for a personal relationship with Jesus and deep experiences of the Spirit. It is a spirituality that thrives in community and builds fellowship, one that is expressed through an oral and participatory liturgy, “informed by experiences of correspondence between body and mind.”3 Among Pentecostals in sub-Saharan Africa, the embodied and affective dimensions seem especially accentuated,4 not because Africans are more ‘emotional’ in any negative sense of the word, but because they understand how profoundly holistic life is, and how central these dimensions are to living a whole life in Christ; indeed, how central they are to being human at all.5 In the West, my impression is that many a pentecostal church has forgotten their importance, no longer utilizing the full potential of embodiment and affectivity in ritual.
While the previous chapter focused on the performance of worship in a liturgical setting—attempting to chart structures, processes, and elements of the liturgy, especially the ‘rite of worship and praise’—this chapter moves
1 Bodies Together as One: Why Community Matters
In one of her books, ethnomusicologist Monique Ingalls argues that the performance of contemporary worship music is key to the formation of evangelical identity and community across North America. Ingalls refers to these musically centred collective performances as “musical modes of congregating,”6 highlighting the connection between congregating and musicking, between community and worship.7 Performed in a range of spaces—from concert halls to conference venues, local congregations, private homes, and digital networks—“shared musical and worship practices help make evangelical participants’ religious experiences coherent.”8 This is because performing worship music together “creates and mediates a sense of unity not only among gathered participants, but also among the local congregation and other congregations in its regional church networks, as well as among the local congregation and the evangelical community imagined across time and space.”9 Through performing the same type of music, in a similar manner, a sense of unity and shared identity is created.
However, while the music does have the capacity to unify worshippers, Ingalls argues that it also “allows a range of tensions to surface.”10 The two processes go hand in hand and communities handle the tensions in their own ways, subsuming, acknowledging, or managing the internal differences that surface.11 Ingalls
1.1 Nurturing Community through Worship
1.1.1 Fostering Fellowship and a Sense of Belonging
you know, in a service, people are different. Like people who came from different backgrounds and everything, but once you come and stand together and sing the same songs that everyone knows … you feel like you belong. You know, you can’t just come and the preacher starts preaching, people will just be seated there and they won’t feel they are touched, but when you come and people sing together, the songs that they know and people praise together … So when you see it, you feel like you are in the right place. So, you stand, people are standing, you are all praising God. So, when you sit you feel like you are not in the right place. So, for me, that is all I can say. Sometimes we sing to bring people together to know that they belong, to ease them, it distracts you, it eases you, now you feel like you belong so now you are ready to listen to God’s word.13
To this young man, the singing and music create a feeling of belonging within the congregating community despite the fact that people are different and come from different backgrounds. Through musicking together, bonds of trust and friendship develop between them. Music has a way to ease and distract, and make people feel they are in the ‘right’ place, with well-known songs being especially important for creating that sense of belonging. However, the kinetic engagement that goes with praise and worship has a role to play here as well. If services started with the sermon, the young interlocutor imagines that people would be seated and rather indifferent to proceedings, while starting by
But then the other thing [after ‘outreach’] is that it also helps connect us together as a community because people are meeting out in the week, you know, in their Life groups. So it’s the one place where we come in and we do the same dance as everybody, we sing the same, everybody. So there’s a, there’s a fellowship thing about it that, that says, you know, we are Mavuno … And the moves that we do together, you know, move this way, everybody raise up your hand, everybody raise your handkerchief, everybody [pause] That has a very strong fellowship component to it.14
Pastor Kamau underlines the kinetic aspect of moving bodies together in a synchronized manner—raising hands or handkerchiefs, moving in the same direction at the same time—and combines it with the social aspect of creating community. This fellowship component of musical forms of worship—‘musical modes of congregating’, to use Ingalls’ terminology—cannot be underestimated, and is certainly acknowledged by the participants themselves.
There are some very specific things that we want to come out of that. We have come together, we have celebrated together, we have sung songs
together, we know we are together, God is here. … What we want people to know is, you know, “I am welcome here and I love this community, I want to be part of this community.” That’s the feeling that we intend. It’s very intentional. “We’re in church, we’re enjoying it, and we love being together with one another.” That is why, for the most part, most of our services will have some sort of space where people either talk to one another or do a competition together, to reinforce the value of community and a sense of belonging.17
After having sung and celebrated and felt the presence of God together during the first part of the service, it is time for the second section where the focus is on interpersonal relationships. It is a time for people to understand that they are indeed welcome, making them want to be part of the community. Again, we see an integration of emotional aspects (the ways it is intended people should ‘feel’), with social aspects (‘we love being together with one another’) and inter-personal kinetic activity (‘talk’, ‘do push-ups’, or ‘play games’).
When you think about it, this demographic more than some of the other demographics does not have ethnic, very close ethnic ties, and lives in a materialistic, individualistic world. So again, those ties are also very, are also weak. And the extended family ties are there, but they are weaker than they used to be. So, a sense of belonging is very important, first in the Life group but also among us as a community.18
Because of the lack of close ethnic ties and the relative weakness of extended family ties, young people (‘this demographic’) have a greater need for a sense of belonging than older generations (‘some other demographics’). Young people live in a world that is marked by individualism and materialism, he says, and Mavuno deliberately tries to counteract the effects of these social conditions by building community in small groups as well as in the larger church. This deliberate attempt to create a social setting that meets the needs of urban
Woodley pastors did not speak as much about the community aspect of services as their Mavuno counterparts; however, this does not mean that community building does not take place. One example is the role of the Welcome team: that of greeting newcomers and serving them tea. Another is the way prayer is personalized when individual prayer requests are announced and prayed over in public. A third example is the way important family events, such as the birth of a child or marriage, are celebrated in the community. These are all ways in which the Sunday service functions as a glue between people, nurturing a sense of fellowship and family despite the often anonymous context of urban Nairobi.
It should be clear from the above description that from an emic perspective, part of the function of gathering together for worship, is indeed to gather, to congregate, to build community. The questions then become: How can we understand this in theoretical terms? In what way is community built? How does worshipping together form fellowship? Are there any theoretical explanations for the connection between kinetic, social, and emotional? One way to approach all this is by referring to social scientific theories on ‘successful interaction ritual chains’, another is to introduce the concept of ‘kinetic orality’, borrowed from ethnomusicology.
1.1.2 Interaction Ritual Chains
In Chapter 2, I presented Joel Robbins’ argument that shared ritual performance is the key to understanding Pentecostalism’s institution-building capacity and global expansion. Robbins builds his argument on Randall Collins’ theory of interaction ritual chains, saying that pentecostal churches are unusually good at creating ritual spaces where people experience the emotional energy that is the result of successful interaction rituals. Through a shared definition of what participants are doing together in a rite—a “mutual focus of attention” and a “rhythmic synchronization of bodily action,” particularily facilitated by shared ritual frames—“emotional energy”20 is produced and bonds of trust are fostered. In other words, community is built.
Having described the details of ‘soaking prayer’ and analysed it with the help of Collins, Shilling, and others, Althouse and Wilkinson conclude, “As
Thus, in the analysis of charismatic ritual, the role of music cannot be underestimated. It is crucial, especially when somatic and affective aspects of worship are considered. In Mavuno and Woodley alike, music is ‘a vehicle through which attunement and entrainment are facilitated’, with the power to ‘stimulate peak experiences’, ‘shape behavior, form personal identity and consolidate group fidelity’. This happens through the use of music, dance, and rhythm, all deliberately framed to create a joint understanding of the ritual situation. The service is consistently interactive and leaders consistently guide the participants in what to do and how to respond properly. Ultimately, the participatory forms of musicking and the interactive instructions and explanations given come together in what Robbins, Althouse, and Wilkinson, all building on the work of Randall Collins, have described in terms of successful interaction ritual chains.
1.1.3 Kinetic Orality
Another way of theoretically explaining the connection between embodiment and community is through the lens of ‘kinetic orality’. Here I build on the work of of ethnomusicologist Kyra Gaunt. For while she does not write on pentecostal or charismatic churches per se, her theory is still relevant for the understanding of pentecostal worship practices, especially in Africa, where movement and dance is such a core element of spirituality and liturgy.
Kyra Gaunt studies the link between the games girls play in school yards in North America and hip hop music. Her point is that the basic structure and the success of hip hop music can be attributed to rhythmical games played by African American girls. Why? Because the hand-clapping game songs, cheers, and double-dutch jump rope rhymes that were part of the communal and cultural practice of young girls across the black urban community inspired boys, who began sampling them and incorporating them into their own music making. Since the rhythms and rhymes were already well known in the community, hip hop became a “ready-made hit.”27 The jump rope became the object
Once we attend to the underexamined role of ‘kinetic orality’—the conjunction of orality and embodied language and meaning in black musical discourse—the role of the lived phenomenology, or subjective embodiment as musical expression, will become apparent. The use of embodiment to participate in music, and to create complex and socially produced sound textures and vocal expressions, explains why one can literally feel part of a phenomenology—of an experience of being musically black—not only as some imagined musical past, but as a lived musical present that refashions an ‘African’ past to re-present a new way of being ‘African’ in contemporary U.S. culture.31
The role of kinetic orality is underexamined, Gaunt states, but it does offer an important key to understanding the lived phenomenology of black musical discourse. There is a way in which socially produced, participatory musicking creates an ‘experience of being musically black’. It is the conjunction of orality and embodied language that contributes to a sense of ‘being African’, not only as a historical fact, but as part of ‘a lived musical present’ in contemporary U.S. culture.
What can we learn from Gaunt in relation to pentecostal music making and liturgy in East Africa? I suggest her theory indicates the importance of studying identity and community at the intersection of embodied movement and orality. Pointing out the ‘oral’ character of pentecostal liturgy and theology is commonplace in pentecostal studies, but so far I have not come across anyone who links orality with kinesthetics. There is a great potential for further research at this intersection. The least one can say is that the role of kinetic orality is underexamined in the study of pentecostal-charismatic spirituality and it likely makes a much richer and more complex contribution than we have so far understood in forming cultural, theological, and ecclesiological identity and community.
To summarize, both the participants themselves and researchers who have studied ritual and music in charismatic contexts say that it contributes to forming community and a sense of belonging, and that kinetics and orality are important aspects of why this is so. However, this does not mean that every participant feels at home at all times or that there are no conflicts. There is a potential for tension and power plays at multiple levels, as I discuss in the next sub-section.
1.2 Conflicts, Power Play, and the Body of Christ
1.2.1 Handling Tensions behind the Scenes
As a foreign researcher you sometimes break rules and upset people unwittingly, just by your presence. Being a newcomer with an undefined role, and
Members of staff at Mavuno are strictly organized into departments, each with its respective area of responsibility and its own teams of volunteers,32 but areas overlap and sometimes clash. There are several pastors in mid-level leadership and it is not self evident who should adjudicate when two interests come into conflict. I witnessed this several times in relation both to myself and others, and some people also shared their struggles in informal conversations. Staff members seem sometimes to have a hard time trusting, respecting, and being generous towards each other, since the system forces them to fight their corner continually. It seems that the hierarchical way of functioning as a church has a flip side in terms of the kind of relationships that are possible to build within the organization.
When I later got an opportunity to interview a staff member involved in services, Pastor Nelly, I decided to ask about the presence of conflict within the team to see what she thought. Interestingly, she answered that this was not a problem, at least not in the team of volunteers. “We actually rarely have conflict,” she said.33 She added that at an earlier stage they had had many “ego clashes” in the team, but now they had learned from the mistakes: “We learnt that people are more important than the job and everybody has to know why
on my production team and in the worship team there are established artists, there are professionals who have amazing jobs that I could never do in a million years, but who they are is more important than what they do. And so they have to understand that the minute they get on the team that their livelihood and their faith is more important, is what’s important. And then, and that’s why then we are happy that they would serve because it’s not only good for the people they serve, it’s good for themselves for them to serve. And so by the time we get to the job, establishing that sense of why we are here (which is for the purpose of the Gospel) and establishing the sense of family we rarely have internal, within our volunteers, we rarely have conflict, ja.36
Despite the fact that she has a team full of established artists and professionals with amazing jobs, once they come to church and serve in church it is more important ‘who they are’ than ‘what they do’. What counts is their personal walk with God, their faith, and life, not their profession. Being on the music team is important since it deepens their faith and contributes to their spiritual growth.
And yet much of Mavuno’s success in terms of service and music production is due to the fact that they can attract professional people to their teams. If it were not for the large group of volunteers who spend hours preparing for and executing the different tasks that together form these event-like church services, they would never be able to arrange them. The top leadership level and the staff are highly dependent on a certain type of volunteer in order to execute the vision they have of services. Possibly this is also why it is so vital to work on the relationships within the teams, so that people want to join and want to stay. But the benefit is mutual; Mavuno is also a place where established artists can become even more established, and where up-and-coming artists can grow into professionals. It is a greenhouse for people with creative and artistic interests, and as such continues to attract new volunteers.37 As
Having reflected on the situation among the volunteers, she explains that it is a different situation in relation to her colleagues. “I mean we have conflict maybe sometimes with the staff and with my colleagues and figuring out how do we do this and how do we do this and da da da da.”38 Possibly the relationship with the team of volunteers is easier; the roles are more clearly defined between staff member/team leader and volunteer. Between members of staff, however, things become more complicated; they are on the same level of leadership and their roles are specified and yet overlap. In relation to the top-level leadership, roles are again more obvious: lower level pastors need to accept decisions made by superiors, regardless of whether they agree with them or not.
In this respect, I do not agree with the picture painted by Wanjiru Gitau, in which the formalized leadership structure co-exists with close relational bonds in a smooth and unproblematic way. In effect, to her, the “leadership pipeline”39—the strict hierarchical way of functioning as an organization—is what ensures that the staff team can continue to “care for one another as a family and maintain a pastoral posture toward their large cohort of volunteers.”40 This is especially important for the role of the Senior Pastor, Pastor Muriithi, who, according to Gitau, is seen as a “father figure”41 by many congregants, and who “affectionately calls the young pastors his ‘sons and daughters’.”42 Since “professionally skilled staff run the payroll, facilities, human resources, and other supervisory affairs,” they can “leave Muriithi out of the center of managerial problem solving” so that he can “mentor his pastors, trainees, and volunteers from a relational standpoint.”43 In her description, the sense of family is intact and lives happily alongside a hierarchical system of leadership. My impression, from interviews and informal interactions and conversations with team members, is that the situation is a bit more complicated. The top leading couple are loved and cherished; but they are also to some extent feared and idealized, even the targets of toadyism. Although left out of daily management, they continuously put themselves back into it. There are good relations
It might seem out of place to discuss power struggles in the midst of discussing embodiment, but I think that considering what happens behind the scenes and between services, not just during services, adds to the total picture of worship. The people who interact on stage, do so off stage as well, and they bring their relationships and conflicts with them into worship. Undoubtedly, a strong sense of community is built through musical modes of congregating, interaction ritual chains, and kinetic orality—as researchers and congregants confirm—but at the same time there are tensions. Where there is social life, there are power plays. Community and tension co-exist.
1.2.2 The Body of Christ
From a theological point of view we may reflect over the role of embodiment and community in light of the metaphor of the church as the body of Christ (Rom. 12:3–8, 1 Cor. 12:12–31). If the church is like a living organism, a body, consisting of many different parts, each with its own function and contribution to the whole yet interacting together as one, it is not hard to imagine that a malfunction can happen from time to time. Just as a child needs to learn how to coordinate their hands and feet, arms and legs in order to eat, walk, talk, and later to swim or jump, it takes practice for a church to become a well-functioning organism, truly living the life of love for which it strives. It is not merely about each individual finding their own purpose and gift, but also for the whole to begin to function together in synergy. Given the many bodies, or human beings, that come together in a congregation, a local expression of Christ’s body, a certain amount of tension and conflict is to be expected. In fact, the tensions themselves are opportunities for growth, providing a chance to grow in love, thus deepening community and unity. Joint ritual action—singing and dancing and playing music together—can be seen as a ‘practice-session’ in the Body of Christ, ideally contributing to a sense of belonging and one-ness, helping to (re)create bonds of trust and (re)focus attention on the main purpose of life and worship: to love God and fellow human beings.
In this section, I have discussed embodiment from a congregational viewpoint: how bodies that come together in worship may become one body of Christ through musical modes of congregating, interaction ritual chains, kinetic orality, and even conflict. In the next section, I continue to elaborate on the role of embodiment in worship, but now in terms of micro-rites, dance, and other forms of concrete ritual action.
2
The above sections focused on the social functions of worship, showing how worshipping together contributes to making the congregation one with each other by nurturing fellowship, identity, and community. Yet worship also has other functions, with the mystical one, which creates a space where worshippers can meet with God, being central to pentecostal self-understanding. Again, kinetic and congregational dimensions are noticeable.
Instead of sacred icons fashioned in wood and in plaster and intended to draw the faithful into worship, these congregants are encircled by fellow believers. Together they represent living, active, human, embodied icons. … From the worship leaders on the platform to the brother or sister across the aisle, Pentecostals influence each other’s forms of worship, gestures and behaviors as they participate together in their ritual enactment. It is not that they are necessarily focusing on or actively watching each other. Rather, it is as though they see through their fellow worshipers as through windows. They look beyond; they see deeper. They recognize in each other their object of worship, their God.46
According to traditional Pentecostal ritual logic, God is expected to move, but so are God’s worshipers. Human physical movement is closely tied to the movement of the Spirit. So, one does not praise God with the mind (or spirit) alone. No, praise is to be more holistic, expressed in motion as well as in words and thoughts … Their kinesthetic experience speaks of a spirituality that cooperates and participates in the movements of God.48
For pentecostal worshippers, bodies in motion become a sign of God’s movements in their midst. God is at work; he is active and not passive. He is close and not far. One can experience him in concrete ways, and participate in his workings, even cooperate with him. One way to do so is through holistic praise, which includes motion as well as words and thoughts. Thus, human physical movement is connected with the movement of the Spirit, Albrecht says. As worshippers move, they sense the movings of the Spirit. Even pentecostal parlance conveys an understanding of God as moving and touching; as Albrecht reports, ritualists speak of “being moved by the Spirit,” sensing the “touch of God” and feeling “warmth” or “electricity.”49 His description resembles those by other scholars,50 and also agrees with my own experience of the language used in pentecostal circles, which underlines a broad consensus within the
In the sections below, it will become clear that this certainly holds true for urban Kenyan Pentecostalism. Dance and other kinesthetic expressions are at the core of ritual practice in the two case churches, making worship a thoroughly holistic experience. To some extent, of course, bodily movement in church is inevitable, since humans interact using their bodies, while kinetic activity is arguably at the very centre of charismatic worship, constituting an essential feature without which worship would be utterly different. At the same time, musical modes of congregating also give rise to tensions, as we saw in the previous section. Dance is one such potential point of tension, where different views and values come into play and ritual practice needs to be negotiated among participants. The following sections will map out local practice, providing an example of how embodiment and ritual action, especially movement, intersect in pentecostal spirituality, and local sentiments and interpretations of that same practice, thus providing a glimpse of local theology.
2.1 Kinesthetic Dimensions of Worship
2.1.1 Micro-rites and Embodied Movement
In this tradition the liturgical process is not written down but memorised. That is, the sequence of anticipated events is internalised by the members of the group. In this way there is a combination of an understood format and the opportunity for spontaneity to occur. The liturgy is continually in the making and it is a corporate event requiring participation by all those present.51
The idea here is that the liturgy itself is internalized; it is not something outside of participants (in a book or on paper), but inside (in their bodies and minds),
According to Daniel Albrecht, micro-rites may emerge “spontanteously or intentionally”55 within the fundamental structure or framework of ritual, contributing to a sense of freedom and flexibility, as well as order and stability. The “multitude of potential component practices, gestures, acts and actions (i.e. the microrites) … are not mere ‘seasoning’ that stimulate the pentecostal tastes and senses”; instead, they “constitute the elements of the liturgy” and ultimately “provide the basic ingredients that make up Pentecostalism.”56 So central is the worship service to pentecostal spirituality that Albrecht sees its components as the components of the tradition itself.
So, what kind of ritual action are we speaking of here? What are the practices, gestures, acts, and actions used in worship? What embodied movement can be traced? When observing and coding services, I took pains to note different forms of bodily movement/micro-rites and, inspired by Albrecht, ended up with a list of more than forty different ‘kinestethic expressions in services’57 and a total of more than four hundred coded instances of these. Naturally, my own research interests have guided the observations, notations, and coding that add up to form the total picture but, nonetheless, this rather astonishing number gives a hint of how central the kinesthetic dimension is to worship.
Hence, a great deal of embodied movement takes place on a Sunday morning in Mavuno and Woodley, as exemplified in the Interlude. When gathering and parting, congregants use their bodies in overt ways to say hello and goodbye to each other: shaking hands, waving at a friend further down the hall,
Embodied movement is by far the most frequent in the rites of worship and praise and altar/response. In worship and praise bodies sway and rock, even jump and dance to the rhythm, hands clap or stretch towards the sky, heads are lifted and bowed, and mouths smile, sing, or pray. During the altar/response time, congregants lift hands or come forward to the space in front of the platform, and sometimes they lay hands on each other while still standing or sitting in the pews. Not everyone partakes in all this kinetic activity; some people tend to be more active and some less, even to the point of not responding at all to the requests and encouragement coming from worship leaders, hosts, and preachers. They may be new to the situation, or simply not feeling comfortable about joining in; there is, in consequence, a certain amount of freedom and flexibility despite the strong emphasis on movement in the congregations.
2.1.2 Types of Kinetic Engagement and Their Frequency
If movement as such is important, one may ask what kinds of movement are most and least frequent in Mavuno and Woodley churches. According to my data, the most common kinesthetic expression during the rite of worship and praise was dance (either communal expressions, or choreographed by leaders), closely followed by different forms of applause (praise offering and regular forms) and cheering. Some movements involved the whole body (such as standing and swaying to rhythm of music), some only part of body (such as lifting or clapping hands, or bowing heads) or even just the face (closing one’s eyes or looking upwards).
Thus, apart from dancing, which is discussed below, several other forms of embodied ritual action play a key role in the service, especially different forms of applause. There is a general type of applause, used in much the same way as at a concert or in a theatre to show gratitude or appreciation to a human performer. Then there is also the charismatic type of applause that goes under the name of ‘praise offering’, which is sometimes spontaneous, bursting out as a collective response to praise, but more often spurred by the direct call of
At this point it is worth noting that the ‘icon of sound’ and the ‘icon of kinesthetic expression’ are intimately related.60 In Chapter 5 I used the metaphor of waves to describe the way sound rises and falls in crescendos and diminuendos throughout the liturgy according to a certain pattern. These sound waves have their kinetic counterparts: for example, praise offerings and clapping, or closed eyes and bowed heads at peaks and in troughs, respectively. There is, thus, a set of appropriate sounds that go with a set of appropriate physical movements at any given moment within the flow of worship. Those who partake in pentecostal gatherings quickly learn the range of appropriate sounds and movements from watching other congregants and following the instructions given by ritual leaders. They learn to ‘go with the flow’, as it were.61 The learning process involves learning when it is appropriate to sit or stand, dance or clap. It is a social, spiritual, and embodied process guided by the group and its leaders, yet ultimately, according to pentecostal logic, directed by the Holy Spirit.62
This is also not to say that each embodied movement has only one usage, interpretation, or meaning—rather the opposite. Several of the most common kinetic expressions are different forms of hand gestures. As Albrecht observes, hand gestures are central to pentecostal ritual and the same gesture can be used in several different “modes of sensibilities,”66 and so lend itself to several interpretations or meanings within the ritual. This is exemplified by the gesture often considered “a trademark of Pentecostal worship”67—outstretched arms with lifted hands—which can express a broad range of experiences depending on the ritual mode with which it is combined. In the ‘celebrative mode’ it may express praises to God, in a more ‘contemplative mode’ it can signal vulnerability and receptivity, in ‘the ceremonial mode’ it can be used as part of a blessing, and in the ‘mode of transcendental efficacy’ it may instead be used as part of a healing ritual, reaching out towards God with one hand and towards one’s fellow human with the other.68 The particularities of these different modes will be further explained below, suffice it to say here that small shifts in the positioning of hands and arms, paired with shifts in sound, music,
If dancing, clapping, and cheering are among the most frequent forms of kinesthetic expression in Woodley and Mavuno services, which are the least frequent? It is probably unwise to draw too many conclusions from the absence of references to a certain code in the analysis (it may be that I simply did not pay attention to a certain gesture, or that I did observe it but ommitted to make notes or codes for it). However, some things can still be said in terms of comparison with other people’s work. In descriptions of the Toronto Blessing and ministries and churches related to this revival, reports are common of people falling and lying on the floor “sometimes shaking and jerking, crying, or laughing”69 under the power of the Holy Spirit. Similar embodied practices are reported from African churches, especially in connection with exorcism and charismatic healing.70 Sometimes these features are seen as typical of pentecostal liturgy in general71 but they are not necessarily so and I saw no examples of it in the two case churches. It may be that it happens in other services, on other occasions, at other meetings, but it was not part of the Sunday service at the time of my visits. This tendency reflects my experiences in other pentecostal contexts as well, indicating that researchers may sometimes focus on ‘exotic’ features and select churches based on their ‘otherness’, leaving more ‘mainstreet’ (or dull) pentecostal and charismatic churches aside.
Another commonly reported practice among Pentecostals, ‘glossolalia’—speaking in tongues—which is often described as the most typical feature of pentecostal-charismatic spirituality,72 was comparatively rare in Woodley and
Among classical Pentecostals, Spirit baptism with the sign of speaking in tongues is often considered essential to pentecostal theology. It is the “distinguishing doctrine”74 that makes Pentecostals pentecostal, at least in their own understanding. However, in later forms of Pentecostalism, Allan Anderson observes that the “insistence on tongues is often absent and certainly of relatively minor significance.”75 He concludes that, like Mavuno and Woodley, “many contemporary pentecostal churches seldom use speaking in tongues in public worship.”76 In both these churches, it is likely that glossolalia is used more regularly at in-house gatherings, while the Sunday service is meant to be open to the public and so should not include elements that could be seen as repellent or internal. It might also be the case that the focus of different gatherings affects the use of tongues. Sunday services have several ritual functions, as we have seen: reaching out, community building, praise, prayer, teaching, and so on, while glossolalia is mainly for prayer and spiritual edification (1 Cor. 12–14), and so might be more suitable on other occasions.
Above, I have presented a general overview of different forms of kinetic engagement in ritual, and linked this to pentecostal spirituality through the notion of the ‘icons’ of sound, sight, and kinesthetic expression. I have traced both frequent and less frequent forms of embodied ritual action and showed how they contribute to local ritual practice. In the following, I turn to a discussion of the role of dance in spirituality and liturgy.
2.2 Dance, Spirituality, and Liturgy
As was described above, embodied movement of various kinds plays a key role in pentecostal worship, nurturing community and identity, comprising constituent parts of liturgy, and facilitating divine-human encounters. One particularly salient form of kinetic engagement in East African pentecostal ritual life is dance. When I highlighted important elements of the rite of worship and praise in Mavuno and Woodley in Chapter 5, I briefly described different forms of dance (improvised, collective, choreographed) as part of worship in both churches. I also pointed to the “rhythmical impulse” and the “inseparability of music and dance”79 in African musical contexts. In this section, I continue to elaborate on the role of dance for pentecostal liturgy and spirituality, exploring local practices, perspectives, and tensions.
The pentecostal-charismatic tradition has a somewhat ambiguous relationship to dance. On the one hand, spontanteous dancing is often encouraged in worship and commended in lyrics. The story of King David dancing in front of the Ark, unconcerned about the shame his actions might call down upon him (2 Sam. 6), is considered a model for wholehearted worship.80 On the other
Dancing styles and the degree of inclusion of dance in a service differ between Mavuno and Woodley, but organized (even choreographed) dance is, nevertheless, integrated into communal praise in an indisputable way. And there are reasons for this.
2.2.1 Dancing Steps of Faith
Mavuno, I feel like I need to create some context for what we are doing [pause] and also explain what we are not. We are not in the middle of some dancing-and-sweating-fitness-lesson [pause, laughter]. There’s a reason for what we are doing.
How many people know that God has an amazing plan for them in 2014? [hands raised in response]. Alright, so this is what we'll declare: 2014 is the year for you to step out [some clapping]. Somebody say: “Step out!” [Response: “Step out!”]
Which means step out in faith. Step out in what God has for you. Somebody say: “Step out!” [Response: “Step out!”]
So, we're gonna do a few movements, to make your body understand what your heart is declaring in faith. In Jesus’ name—Hallelujah!
So the first movement, is a very simple one [pause]. We’re taking steps of faith [pause] 1-2-3, step, step, step [teaches the choreography step by step and congregation follows].82
Pastor Kyama is eager to explain the inclusion of dance in the liturgy in a way that is consistent with pentecostal theology to give it a theological rationale. He links this particular choreography to the ‘Step out’ theme of the sermon series, as well as to larger pentecostal frameworks of ‘faith’. The dance movements, involving several sets of ‘stepping’ back and forth, left and right, are directly related to the theme. But that is not all. The reason for including dance movements in the worship session is ‘to make your body understand what your heart is declaring in faith’. Through the theme, the kinetic movement is related to acts of faith, to trusting God’s promises. Each dance step is a concrete way of declaring one’s faith in God and stepping into the amazing, divine plans that are there for each and everyone’s future.
In pentecostal understanding, walking in faith, or having faith, is often used as a way to describe trusting God with one’s life, relying on his faithfulness and his good plans. It has a touch of both expectation, of anticipating great things for the future, and of exertion: those plans will not come to pass unless the believer also declares his or her commitment to God and submission to his plans. This declaration is usually made ‘in Jesus’ name’, thus referring to the source of power that brings the plans to fruition. In the words of a community choreographer in a Catholic charismatic group in the U.S., charismatic dance is about “dancing our convictions, not our emotions”; it is a “praise-oriented activity,” a “ground-level experience under God.”83 In other words, it is worship, orthodoxa.
What I find especially intriguing about Pastor Kyama’s words in the above quote is the connection between an evangelical-pentecostal understanding of faith and personhood, and the inclusion of dance in the liturgy. What he does is to explain the motives behind the use of dance with reference to the relationship between ‘the body’ and ‘the heart’. To him, there is a direct connection between what one does with one’s body, what one believes with one’s heart, and what one expects from God in life: in other words, between kinetic, somatic, and spiritual. The dance movements can teach ‘the body’ to have faith, a faith that already exists in ‘the heart’. This points to a holistic view of faith as something that traverses the mind/body divide and has to do with
We're gonna do a few moves, to let your body know what your spirit has already perceived. Amen, Mavuno?! [Response: “Amen!” Cheering]
Alright. So the first one is a simple step of faith, very simple. It goes like this [showing choreography]. Stepping out.
[He shows us the dance steps, first the legs, then the arms. Instrumentalists jam in the background. There is no singing in this section, just dance. Most people join in. They seem to be having a good time. Then the singing starts again with renewed energy: “Oh, oh oh, I know who I am.” The song ends in a crescendo of cheering and clapping while the leader shouts:]
Mavuno, isn’t God good?!85
The worship leader is again supporting the use of dance for worship with reference to teaching the body. He says that the moves will let the body know what the spirit has already grasped, which, in the context of a song speaking about being “a chosen generation … called forth to show His excellence,” has to do with knowing one’s true identity. This includes “walking in power,” “working miracles,” and living “a life of favour”; it is summarized in the song as knowing “who I am,” which is “who God says I am.”86 This knowledge has already been perceived by the spirit of the person, and is now taught to the body through dance. It seems that the quiet assumption here would be that the body can have spiritual knowledge. There is thus a somatic-spiritual learning process
Again, as in the example above, the dance steps are explained as ‘steps of faith’: stepping out into the plans that God has made, stepping out into being ‘called’ and ‘chosen’ by God. There is a strong neo-pentecostal element in this song, with its depiction of life in Christ as ‘walking in power’ and ‘working miracles’, something to which I return at a later stage. For now, I want to highlight the connection between faith, dance, and ideas about the human constitution—or ‘philosophical anthropology’.89 In pentecostal circles it is quite common to see the person as a tripartite unit: body, soul, spirit.90 In this taxonomy the ‘spirit’ is the part of a human being that is ‘dead’ without God, and comes ‘alive’ at the point of rebirth;91 thus, spiritual knowledge is only possible if one is spiritually alive (cf. 1 Cor. 2:1-16). The lived theology exemplified in the above quotes seem to suggest that such life and knowledge is fostered by dance.
An interesting convergence occurs here in relation to Tanya Luhrmann’s theory of metakinetic learning processes (discussed in Chapter 2). According to her, the process is one where the person learns to interpret bodily reactions as evidence of God’s presence with his or her mind/psyche. She suggests that the process starts in the body and, with the help of the community of believers (and their rituals), the mind learns to identify certain bodily and emotional states as signs of divine communication.92 Luhrmann’s perspective might be summarized as follows: by participating in the rite, the mind will understand the body through faith. In comparison, the Mavuno perspective onto what is going on might sound something like this: by participating in the rite, the body will
Possibly the difference is one of culture and context. Luhrmann bases her theory on North American charismatic Evangelicals, while Mavuno operates in an East African environment. It might be that Americans are less prone than Africans to describe the body as cultivating spiritual knowledge, rather believing that whatever goes on in the body must be interpreted by the mind. We may compare this view with the ideas of the above-mentioned choreographer in a Catholic charismatic group in the U.S. In Csordas’ summary of her perspective, “The discourse of the body in dance guides the mind into a pattern of thought, whereas mere words allow thoughts to wander.”93 Thus, kinetic activity serves to facilitate mental activity, to form ‘a pattern of thought’, something that ‘mere words’ would not do as efficiently. The assumption seems to be that faith is very much about ideas, and that liturgical dance—and presumably embodied ritual as such—serves as a tool for mental processes. Stretching the Mavuno perspective would lead more or less in the opposite direction, towards the position that faith is about the body acting in preferred ways (‘stepping out in faith’, ‘walking in power’), with dance and other kinetic ritual activity serving as a tool for somatic-spiritual learning processes. Because of this theological position, they sensibly and skilfully include choreographed dance in the worship session, to help foster (embodied) faith and deepen (holistic) spirituality.
While spontaneous dancing, both on the platform and in the pews, is not uncommon in contemporary pentecostal-charismatic churches around the globe, choreographed dancing is more of “a rare genre”94 in charismatic ritual performance. Albrecht even suggests it is “unthinkable”95 as part of pentecostal liturgy. In my experience, if it occurs in the West, choreographed worship dance (praise dance/ liturgical dance) is mostly performed as a specific presentation by a specific group of people. As when choir performances are
In Africa, however—or at least in the settings that are part of this study—communal, choreographed dancing led from the pulpit, is common. In Mavuno, the singers in the worship team are as much dancers as vocalists. In Woodley, the choir often turns into a dancing choir, walking down from the altar or combining their singing with a set of gestures. Both groups seldom perform their dances in front of the congregation, rather they lead the congregation in dance. The difference might seem miniscule, but in terms of ritual performance it is significant, pointing to underlying differences in theology and spirituality.96
Dance as a communal, congregational worship practice is a significant aspect of East African pentecostal ritual life, and distinguished from Western Pentecostalism. My impression is that the African holistic worldview and profound understanding of the embeddedness and embodiedness of spirituality are important reasons for this difference. Here, the African church displays a deep theological insight into the connection between body, faith, community, and spirituality from which I think the Western church has much to learn.
2.2.2 Handling Tension and Debate over Dance
In the excerpt from my observation on 5th January 2014, Pastor Kyama is not only presenting dance as a tool for internalizing faith and saying something about the relationship between body and heart, as was discussed above, he is also eager to make sure no one misinterprets the situation as something other than worship. It is not ‘some dancing-and-sweating-fitness-lesson’ as some might think; rather, there is ‘a reason for what we are doing’. He does it with a smile on his face, and from the response it is clear that most members of the congregation are already convinced that street-style dancing is an appropriate thing to do in church. Nevertheless, there is an edge to what he is saying; some
His intervention highlights a tension in the Kenyan ecclesial context wherein Mavuno, with its creative and innovative liturgy, has triggered discussions on what may or may not be included in a service. Not everyone appreciates the inclusion of contemporary music or attempts to cross over into urban youth culture. Possibly Pastor Kyama is trying to counteract potential critique from people in the audience reflecting accusations of Mavuno’s being ‘secular’ and ‘liberal’ in its approach to Christian faith, and of leading young people astray.97 This critique was mirrored in the research survey, with some respondents who were unsatisfied with Mavuno worship commenting that the use of ‘secular music’ in church was problematic. It is likely that the goals of removing some of the doubts and creating joint understandings of the ritual situation lie behind the pastor’s words.
I believe that in this generation a lot of culture is being defined by entertainment which is largely music and music videos and movies. So just being able to be, being relevant in the music that is, that this generation is familiar with, allows us to be able to reach the people of this generation. So that’s why we do the kind of songs that we do, we do the kind
of dancing and praise that we do. And I would say we have fairly been successful in that venture.99
To him, youth culture, especially music and music videos, is defined a lot by entertainment. In order to reach a young generation with the Gospel, it is paramount to include the type of music and dance in the liturgy with which they are familiar, otherwise it would be hard to remain relevant in their lives. That is also why Pastor Josh as a worship pastor watches a lot of music videos and tries to stay up to date on new music trends among young people.100
That young people in Nairobi like to dance and want that to be part of worship is something that is confirmed by pastors of citam: “The youth need to jump and dance and show everybody the moves,”101 Pastor Rose says, although for the citam leaders, this is more of a challenge. They have a wider generational span in their churches and, therefore, need to accommodate the different preferences of the young, the middle aged, and the aged. Pastor Rose herself has a teenage daughter who listens to “a little bit of medium rock,”102 and she often wishes that she could include more of that type of music in church. At the same time she needs to be sensitive to church leadership and the generational divides: “Again, because we have older folks rather than more younger ones, even our dancing styles may not be as the youthful churches have. Really, I mean those guys have a blast. Um, yes, if I may put it that way.”103
She smiles widely as she says that people in youthful churches ‘have a blast’. It is clear she would sometimes like to go much further in dancing and musical styles than her liturgical context allows. As she told me, in a former ministry position in another church, the congregation was of a younger age group and “we all jumped and danced.”104 This is not possible in the same way in citam. To her this presents a real challenge in terms of the future of the church. When asked to envisage her church’s music ministry ten years ahead, Pastor Rose reflects on the challenge by saying, “my children’s generation have a very
The ‘reality’ is that the younger generation has ‘a very different way of worshipping’, and unless the church leadership and the worship styles of the church change, they risk losing a lot of young people to other churches—churches like Mavuno, churches with a different demography that are willing to experiment more freely with worship styles. Paster Rose says, not without pain, “We’re actually right now treading on very gentle grounds because we’ve had a lot of young people going and leaving for Mavuno. And we’re saying, ‘What’s drawing you there?’ And it’s the music. It’s their style.”106
Pastor Munga of Mavuno denied in our interview that their congregants come from other churches, although confirming that this is a critique often heard from other pastors.107 My own impression from interacting with Mavuno staff members and to some extent their church visitors is that many of them do, in fact, have backgrounds in other churches, not least citam. What for Pastor Josh and Pastor Kamau is understood in terms of ‘outreach’, is experienced by Pastor Rose as ‘young people going and leaving for Mavuno’. The attraction that youthful churches with a contemporary worship style have for young people is a real challenge for more established churches. Music styles, including dance, play a key role in drawing the crowds.
Pastor Rose continues to reflect on the issues of style and dance from a spiritual perspective. To her, what is most important is not the style of worship but what remains with the participants as they go home. When she works with her teams she tells them, “You know after we’re through the hype and the styles, when you go home will those songs you sung ring in your head? Will those words help you in your daily walk with the Lord?”108
Unless the songs and the styles help people in their ‘daily walk with the Lord’ they are not of much use. It is only when songs continue to ring in people’s heads as they go home, aiding them to live with and for Christ in daily life, that the ritual has truly ‘worked’. And suddenly her perspective is not so far from that of the Mavuno leaders. Worship in the form of songs and dancing has to do with ‘walking’ with Jesus: living one’s life for him and with him. The musical practices are only viable if they become orthodoxa, true worship in everyday life. If it becomes simply a matter of style, then it loses its purpose. Here
Still, as a liturgical leader, Pastor Rose needs to handle potential tensions and make decisions about the dancing styles that are allowed in church. She says that some of the “African dancing styles … cannot be allowed on the pulpit” because of their sexual implications; in her view, they “could be suggestive.”109 To an outsider, the styles may not look particularly suggestive, but they are interpreted as such in the ecclesial and cultural context and therefore she has to walk cautiously. Yet it is not an easy question to know where exactly to draw the line. What are the limits to what one can do in church?
So you’re very careful what you allow people to do. There’s good dancing, I mean like what we do in aerobics sometimes; okay, even aerobics gets crazy [chuckles]. But still … where do you draw the line? That’s sometimes a tricky question. Amongst the young people you almost feel like there’s no line drawn. … But when you have the older people in your midst and, um, it’s interesting. They’ll write emails, they’ll pull you aside and they’ll say, “That was not pleasing to God.” So I think, “Whoops, okay, what wasn’t pleasing to God?” you know? Is it the style?110
From a citam perspective—and here I believe one can see a clear heritage from holiness Pentecostalism—there is ‘good dancing’ and there is a ‘line’ to be drawn that excludes sexually suggestive dancing. In other words, there are dancing styles that are spiritually and morally appropriate for liturgy, and there are those that are not and that ‘cannot be allowed on the pulpit’. As was discussed in the previous chapter, the church building, and especially the altar or pulpit, is regarded as holy and set apart and not any type of dance will be suitable for that space. For the young, there is almost ‘no line drawn’—any type of dancing style may fit the liturgy—while for the older generation, certain types of dance (or music and dress) may be upsetting. As a minister Pastor Rose will get emails or comments from congregants to the effect that a certain element of the service was ‘not pleasing to God’, and she often gets the impression that the problem is the style more than anything else. At the same time, she herself likes dancing, and presents King David as one of her “key characters” in the Bible, particularly because of the way he danced: “I love him because of his joy in just loving God and dancing for Him and, and just being so real.”111 Dance
Thus, it is important to underline that in this context, it is not dance as such that is a problem; rather, it is certain kinds of dance and the way to draw a line between ritual practice that is appropriate (‘right’) and inappropriate (‘wrong’). The difference in relation to Mavuno seems to be one of degree: how far is one willing to go in including elements from the surrounding culture into the liturgy? Is there a line, and should it be drawn? At a theological level, the question is one of ecclesiology. It has to do with the degree to which one sees the church as holy and separate from the world, or, conversely, as there being a continuation between culture and church. Is the church a holy place, a separate place, where only certain types of dance are allowed, or is it an ordinary place where most forms of dance are a fit? This question separates Mavuno and Woodley, in that Mavuno thinks of church as on a continuum with culture, and Woodley thinks of it as rather separate and distinct. The same question also surfaces in the topic to be discussed next: dress. What is an appropriate way to dress in church and what is not?
3 Bodies Dressed for Service: Why Clothes Matter
In this chapter I am discussing embodiment in pentecostal worship from different angles—sensory, kinetic, aesthetic, emotional, and somatic—showing how intimately connected these aspects are to each other and how they build on each other to create a total experience of worship. One aspect of embodiment that has not had enough attention in the study of Pentecostalism to date is dress.113 It might sound self-evident, but it is worth pointing out how closely related embodiment is to the issue of apparel. Anthropologist Karen Tranberg Hansen writes in her introduction to African Dress: Fashion, Agency, Performance, that body and dress are “intimately entangled”114 and must be
When I discuss dress as part of worship, I lean on the understanding put forward by cultural anthropologist Lynne Hume, who explains religious dress as the way “anyone covers, reveals, adds to or in any way decorates his or her body in the name of religious or spiritual beliefs or activities.”118 Dress is not just clothes, it is the way we cover or reveal, decorate and adorn our bodies. When this is put in a religious context and given a religious or spiritual interpretation, we can speak of ‘religious dress’. This does not necessarily imply costumes made specifically for ritual purposes but, rather, any way that people adjust or adapt their way of covering, revealing, or decorating their body in the name of spiritual beliefs or activities. It has to do with dress itself, with personal feelings attached to dress, and with the cultural interpretation of dress in a specific context.119 Further, as Hume writes, “Dress distinctions function to set one religious community apart from other religious communities, and they also operate within a religion to distinguish hierarchies, power structures, gender distinctions, ideas of modesty, roles, mores, group identity and belief and ideology.”120 The way people dress in church on a Sunday morning is not arbitrary, but comes with distinct interpretations and sometimes strict rules, especially for those engaged in ministry. In what follows, I show how these dress practices are spiritually and theologically motivated, and so, rightly, may be called ‘religious dress’ following Hume’s definition.
3.1 Dress Codes and Holiness Ideals in Worship
In the history of revival, dressing differently has sometimes been a way to show that conversion has indeed taken place. For example, Anabaptists were known to “shun costly clothing” and “hold to a plain and simple style”123 as a way to mark their new status after adult baptism. Their heirs, the Amish, prescribe clothing that is “in every way modest, serviceable and simple.”124 Long, full dresses; solid, subdued colors; flat heels and no jewellery are among the rules for women. For Mennonites, another Anabaptist group, conformity to dress is a key way to show acceptance of, and belonging to the community, especially for women. It is also a way to show one’s inner state since the “outward appearance is considered to reflect the inner religiosity.”125 As Lynne Hume says of the Anabaptist approach, “With the emphasis on ‘no frills’, their plainness overtly articulates their separation from the world outside their communities and their strong sense of belonging and identity within their communities.”126
3.1.1
Dress codes for ministry purposes are clearly defined within citam churches. This goes for the choir and musicians as well as for the pastors and elders. The style is conservative and rather strict, with a strong emphasis on modesty and respectability. It is neat, formal, and nice; not too fashionable and not too simple. Among congregants, clothing is more varied; many follow the example of those in ministry positions, while others adopt either a dressier or a more simple style. Even though the church deliberately targets the middle class and elite in society, the congregants come from a wide range of societal backgrounds, which is also mirrored in their way of dressing. The ethnographic vignette in the Interlude should give a clear idea of how this looks in practice.
For the music team at citam Woodley—just so that you can identify who it is—there’s a uniform, a dress code that is expected on a Sunday, because you do not want to be a distraction as a lady—no tight skirts, no short skirts, no above the knee skirts, no tights—stuff like that because we’re in an African cultural setting. I know we’re in Nairobi and people wear minis and people (including my daughter) wear tight skirts with short tops, but because we’ve come to focus on God, then we purposefully choose how to dress. So for the uniforms for the guys, again, also just normal trousers and a shirt that’s the same colour scheme across the board.127
The uniform is there so that congregants may identify who is in the music ministry on any given Sunday; it marks the transition from being a congregant among others to having a ritual role. This is the first function of purposeful dress. The second is to help the congregation ‘focus on God’ instead of being distracted by dress. The strictest rules apply to women, because ‘you do not want to be a distraction as a lady’, but even men have rules. For women the rules are negatively formulated as a sequence of prohibitions: ‘no tight skirts,
I think for the presence of God to be there, everyone has to feel they’re comfortable. Like when the congregation watches the person who is the worship leader: how would they see the person? For example if they see like the person is in a very short skirt, you see, there’ll be that division between the flesh and the spirit … So why there is that order in the way you dress is because you want the Spirit of God to flow and then to connect with other believers, or other people in the congregation, yes.128
The worship leader functions as a point of contact between ‘the Spirit of God’ and ‘other believers’, and, by dressing in an orderly manner, she (the example assumes a female person) can facilitate this spiritual connection. On the other hand, if the worship leader dresses in ‘a very short skirt’, some people in the congregation might feel uncomfortable, leading to ‘a division between the flesh and the spirit’. It seems that congregants, presumably male, will have a hard time focusing on divine matters when the embodied persona on stage evokes carnal desires, to the point of blocking the Spirit of God.
While unsuitable clothing can hinder the presence of God, it is not the only thing that may do so. Once Pastor Rose has explained the uniform, she adds that “beyond the outward there’s an inward”;129 in other words, in addition to preparing their physical appearance, a worship leader or pastor must also prepare their inner being, their hearts. “It’s not just the outward adornment, it’s your heart as well. So that when we come corporately on Sunday if I’m having issues in my life and I haven’t let the Lord deal with them, even if I dress so beautifully those things will act as a hindrance.”130 The beautiful dress and
3.1.2 Dress Practices and the Holiness Tradition
In interviews and church services, reference was often made to similarities between the organization of worship in the Old Testament and in our time. Worship leaders and choir members were seen as the successors of priests and Levites, creating points of contact between the human and the divine realm.131 Pentecostal theologian and Old Testament scholar Jerome Boone describes the role of priests as “facilitators” who “live and work at the boundary between the holy and the common, between the clean and the unclean.”132 Through living a life of “personal piety and integrity,” they “image God in the very way that they live.”133 In doing so, they follow the command given by God: “You shall be holy for I the Lord your God am holy” (Lev. 19:2), a command repeated time and again throughout both the Old and the New Testaments. It is against this background that we need to understand the notions of hindering or facilitating the flow of the Spirit. As ‘priests and Levites’ worship leaders have a special responsibility for the integrity and holiness of the community, and they exercise this mandate by keeping careful watch over their own way of life.
This emphasis on holiness and sanctification has a long history in the pentecostal tradition, dating back to its revivalist roots in Pietism, Methodism, and the Holiness movement.134 This has been an especially important issue in classical Pentecostalism, even dividing different types of classical Pentecostals into those who see sanctification as “a second work of grace” (after conversion), to be followed by “the third experience of Spirit baptism” (Holiness
Although classical Pentecostals have not gone as far as the Amish or the Mennonites (mentioned above), something of the same values, dating all the way back to the Radical Reformation and the Anabaptist movement, still linger in their attitudes. Among classical Pentecostals—as opposed to Neo-Pentecostals—many still hold to a ‘plain’ ideal when it comes to dress: no extravagance, no excessiveness, no frills. Instead, they opt for plain colors, simple hair styles, few accessories, and not too much makeup. Modest dress becomes a way to show that one is ‘wholly surrendered’, different and set-apart from the world, that one is indeed ‘holy’, ‘sanctified’, and in every way ‘serviceable’ to the Lord. Historian Anthea Bulter has observed a similar pattern with regard to gender, dress, and holiness in women of the Church of God in Christ in late 19th century America,139 and Anita Yadala Sunesson reports it from contemporary pentecostal churches in South India.140 In citam, these ideals are especially salient in the official dress codes used by those who serve on Sundays, most of all for women. People conform with them as a way to show acceptance of and belonging to the group and its teachings. In private life the rules are less strict and there is more room for individual expression.
3.1.3 Handling Tension with regard to Dress and Culture
For Pastor Rose, the purposeful way of dressing is also related to the fact that they are in an ‘African cultural setting’.141 Limiting certain dancing styles is a
Let me get a funny one. Somebody came to visit me in the office another day and said, “You wear short skirts!” I said, “What do you mean I wear short skirts? I even wear trousers.” They said, “We’ve never seen you.” I said, “Because you only see me on Sundays in my long skirts and for me that’s a dress code—an official dress code.”… So the shock on the person that said, “You wear short skirts!” You know, I said, “I can horrify you more—I also wear trousers” [laughs]. But not intentionally.147
Her private outfits are less conservative than her official ones, and may raise some eyebrows, although she laughingly comments that she does not ‘horrify’ anyone ‘intentionally’. In fact, she is constantly aware of the environment and adapts to whatever local culture demands. When she travels to rural areas these considerations are even more important. “I can’t go to minister with my red paint up country,” she says. “I’d have to have colourless nail varnish,
In Chapter 2, I quoted Ronald Grimes who said that because ritual is “in and of bodies,” it is also “cultural, since bodies are enculturated.”149 Considering the role of dress for worship, this link becomes apparent. Culture defines limits for what is an appropriate and modest way to dress, but these limits are not static. They are negotiated and challenged on a daily basis, while different cultural norms kick in according to context; the norms of the church or denomination intersect with those based on age, gender, socio-economic status, or place of residence, to mention just a few. Tensions arise, and individuals and churches need to find a way to navigate within them. Pastor Rose again: “So that’s how intertwined a cultural thing is … It’s, I can’t call it tension, and yet it is some, but it, [sighs] how do I put this? Um, it’s adapting, it’s an adaptation of, okay, this is the environment we are in, this goes, this is acceptable. Okay, we’ll receive it.”150
In Woodley, worship practices, including dress choices, are thoroughly embodied, culturally defined, and yet highly contested and constantly negotiated. The ‘cultural thing’ is so intertwined in the way people think that adaptation to the environment is necessary, she argues. Just as some dancing styles ‘cannot be allowed on the pulpit’, certain types of dress will be considered improper and provoke discussion. Unless those in ministry adapt their style of dress to the official standard, what they do in church will not be ‘acceptable’ and received.
Again, we see that what we may call ‘the ritual style’—the type of music, dance, and dress deemed appropriate in church—may simultaneously act as both an attraction and a deterrent depending on which sub-group of the congregation is considered. An urban and contemporary style risks upsetting the senior congregants, while a traditional style may chase the younger generations away. Pastor Rose does not want to call it a tension, but I would say that this is exactly what it is: a tension between the Christian sub-culture and the culture of the surrounding society, a tension between rural and urban culture, and a tension between older and younger generations. It is also a tension between
3.2 The Social Skin: When Style Is Everything
Anthropologist Terence Turner once coined the notion of “the social skin”152 in reference to dress, capturing the dual quality of dress as something that both touches the body and faces outward towards others. Commenting on Turner’s formulation, Tranberg Hansen writes, “This two-sided quality invites us to explore both the individual and collective identities that the dressed body enables.”153 Clothes are personal, they touch the individual body, but at the same time they are social, speaking to and reflecting the collective of which the individual is part. “Yet the subjective and social experiences of dress are not always mutually supportive but may contradict one another or collide,” Hansen continues, and as a result, “dress readily becomes a flash point for conflicting values.”154 In Woodley and citam, the tension is between conflicting value systems within the same congregation, while in Mavuno this seems to be a minor problem. Instead, the tensions appear in relation to the surrounding ecclesial or ecumenical community.
3.2.1 Dress Codes in Mavuno and Their Rationale
Mavuno has taken up the task of reaching out to the “young, African, English-speaking, educated professional,” a type that Pastor Kamau considers a “new people group.”155 For other groups in society the situation is different. There are plenty of good churches around that reach “the urban, non-educated, lower-income people,” he says; indeed, they are “spoilt for choice as far as churches are concerned.”156 But for young, educated professionals who do not “talk their ethnic languages” and are “more exposed to media”, “there are not that many options” since churches like the “mainline denominations” have
So, how are they doing things? In the previous chapters, I have painted a picture of Mavuno as a young and stylish church when it comes to dress. This goes for on-stage, back-stage, and congregational spaces. Groups with different roles wear coordinated outfits: the worship team, tech team, hosts, ushers, welcome team, and so on. The idea that your clothes are dictated by your role is very common in churches, as it is in Kenyan society at large. The difference in Mavuno is that they adopt a youthful and hip style across the board. Ushers may wear jeans and t-shirts printed with a Mavuno message, or black trousers with a white shirt. The tech team wears all-black trousers and t-shirts. The worship team coordinates in terms of colours and style, but allows individual expression in the details. For example, they may all have squared shirts but not the same type, or they may all wear glasses but of different shapes, or they may all be in denim but in slightly different shades, or any other variation on a given theme. Hosts and preachers are allowed more freedom of individual expression; they are sometimes dressed in a very elaborate and sometimes a plainer manner.
There is a lot of creativity channelled into on-stage clothing in Mavuno and it is all very carefully planned. The on-stage people deliberately choose their clothes to suit the theme of sermon and service as well as the overall Mavuno style and message. In Chapter 5, I quoted Pastor Josh as saying that adjusting visual, musical, and sartorial communication to the tastes of the younger generation functions like a “bait” or a “net” since it draws people into church; once they are there, they get the Gospel, although packaged “differently” to meet the needs of young people with “certain standards.”158 This attitude affects ritual performance in an obvious way, again emphasizing ritual language and ritual style as important elements of worship.
Pastor Kamau argues along a similar line when he likens young, educated people in Nairobi to an ‘unreached people group’. As they have a different aesthetic language than other groups, the Gospel must be translated to them
To Pastor Kamau, adjusting the aesthetic language to young people’s standards is a way of following the missiological principle of ‘translation’ rather than ‘adaptation’ in relation to culture.162 Explaining that there are two ways to look at relevance, he says that one is to “take what you have, look at the culture that you have outside, and adapt it.”163 This he finds problematic since it somehow presupposes that what you have is not enough or not right. Instead, he says Mavuno takes “a different view.”164
[My] theological synthesis of what we are doing is that first of all we recognize that the Gospel is good for all time. And so nothing about our understanding of the Gospel has changed or is about to change. And so in that sense we are very, you know, some say we are obviously conservative; we are very, we have not liberalized ourselves so that we can become relevant. We still hold, you know, what has been held true, among evangelical Christians. But we do recognize that this Gospel has to be communicated within the current cultural space. And so that means that we have to find language and metaphors that can communicate what we are saying without really changing the message … So a good one, a good one that is often used in World Christianity is ‘translation’. So what we are doing is that we have become translators of the Gospel to a new people group.165
People in here are extremely chic! Beautiful dresses, tight jeans, light blouses, cool printed t-shirts, and nice shirts. I can see one man in a kanzu, but he is probably the only one with an African/Arabic style of dress. Apart from that it is urban, contemporary (or should I say Western?) across the board. People are well groomed, clean, and tidy, clothes seem new. I can see no one with ragged clothes or a shabby appearance. High heels. Polished shoes. Sneakers. Girls have spent a lot of time on hair, makeup, and accessories. Latest hairstyles. Well-thought-out outfits. This is the elite. The in people. A church with attitude for people with attitude.167
On other Sundays more people wore African-styled patterns and prints, and occasionally I did see someone with a shabby appearance but, apart from that, the description is representative of congregational dress styles. It seems the people who come to Mavuno either belong to the intended target group of young professionals or, at least, take pains to dress as if they did. As for Woodley, we see that there is some sort of interaction between the dress code (however informal and subtly conveyed) of on-stage people and congregants in the hall. The style of the leaders is determined by the style of imagined recipients, and the style of actual recipients is consolidated and reinforced by the style of leaders.
3.2.2
The preoccupation with style and aesthetics among neo-pentecostal Christians has been noted by several authors. Birgit Meyer states that “it is commonly acknowledged that appearance is a prime concern for those participating in Pentecostal churches,” since a person’s appearance “is seen as an indication of an interior spiritual state.”168 In consonance with the prosperity gospel, where wealth is seen as an indication of the blessings of God,169 Meyer argues that “there is much emphasis on what might be viewed as ‘mere outward things’ from a more orthodox Christian perspective.”170 In her research in West Africa, she met many young people attracted to mega-churches who told her they could not attend church in the same dress every Sunday, and so had developed “mutual dress exchange systems” to “avoid embarrassment and shame.”171 She also met people who backed out because they could not afford “to model themselves in line with the ideal Christian appearance.”172 Since “clothing indexes wealth,”173 a lack of suitable apparel is interpreted as a lack of blessing or success.
For the sake of analytical clarity, I distinguish between these two pentecostal stylistic ideals, but in reality they mix in any given church context. Woodley honours the ideals of their Anabaptist heritage, but many congregants are equally affected by neo-pentecostal ideals when it comes to dress. The same could be said of Mavuno: the leaders honour the ‘young, professional, and successful’ ideals, while some congregants prefer to dress according to the classical pentecostal style described above. Neither Woodley nor Mavuno displays a ‘pure’ type of classical pentecostal or neo-pentecostal aesthetic ideal, but the tendencies towards one or the other are certainly there.175
While it is true that wealth, generation, class, gender, and theological preferences may be exposed via embodied dress practices, it is also true that clothing can allow people to play with the very same features. A person may display his or her identity and values through clothing but may just as well seek to hide them or beguile his surroundings in some respect. Writing about youth in Niger, Adeline Masquelier describes how they adopt certain clothing styles to signal wealth and success, despite an economic situation marked by unemployment and poverty—or to signal piety and modesty—while at the same time breaking the rules of the religious community in private. She notes, “[A] young man’s new sneakers and fancy watch may suggest that he has resources when in reality he is jobless. The deceptive potential of clothing enables people to create
This perspective is important to keep in mind as we discuss Mavuno clothing and style. Just because many attending Mavuno dress in what look like expensive clothes, it does not necessarily mean that they are rich, only that they aspire to be, or wish to appear as such when they go to church. In fact, in my research survey, as many as eleven per cent said they were unemployed and looking for a job.178 Likewise, just because Mavuno pastors adopt a youthful style of dress, it does not necessarily mean that everyone is young, only that they aspire to creating a youthful space. In fact, many key leaders are born in the 1960s and ‘70s and are no longer young. Of course, this principle is also true of Woodley’s preferred dress code: just because they dress in a way that signals modesty and holiness, this does not necessarily mean that people adhere to strict moral rules in their everyday life.
3.2.3 Creating a Social Skin through Clothing Competence
In Turner’s terminology, we may say that dress enables individuals and groups to create a ‘social skin’,179 a layer between themselves and society, thus presenting themselves in ways that suit their aspirations, hopes, and dreams. They can choose to reveal, display, hide, and beguile accordingly. To some extent, dress practices can become self-fulfilling prophecies. A church that dresses in a young cosmopolitan style is more likely to draw young cosmopolitans to its services. A young professional who wishes to become wealthy can dress accordingly and draw the attention of others in the same category. To be successful in this endeavour, it takes what Hansen has called “clothing competence,” the critical skill of knowing how to create a “total look”180 suitable for a given context. A look may succeed or fail depending on the context in which it is presented. This competence, or “clothing habitus”181—as she also calls it—is learned through socialization and is dependent on our social backgrounds
Undoubtedly, volunteers and staff in Mavuno work hard to communicate to just the right people with the right message. There is constant evaluation and preparation aimed at getting things right and allowing dress to speak in just the right way. At the same time, congregants and visitors work hard to communicate their connection with the group or their aspirations to belong to it. Many spend considerable time preparing their appearance before church, as the Mavuno identity is built through clothing and other material and visual means. It is communicated from stage and enforced by those coming to church. This happens in all ecclesial communities to some degree, as it happens in all social groups, but Mavuno is especially deliberate in their approach and highly competent in building a total look, a ‘clothing habitus’ as it were. And they do so without explicit dress codes and seemingly without ‘rules’. Dress is not about holiness or gender in Mavuno; it is not about paying respect to a holy place or a holy ministry, or communicating inner purity through outward looks as in Woodley. Rather the opposite: they deliberately seek to break with the rules that other churches uphold, which many young people experience as too strict, instead using dress to consolidate their place as the in-church for young people. In doing so, they distance themselves from the older churches in some respects.
Yet dress is not only hard work; Masquelier argues that it is also fun, a way to play. Through clothing styles, young people can play with religious and cultural norms and find a way to challenge and change them. She says that Nigerien youth “perceive dressing up as a fun, pleasurable, and occasionally irreverent endeavour driven by the desire to challenge the status quo,” adding, “play is both experimentation and escape from the world of labor, adulthood, and social responsibilities.”183 There is a certain sense in which Mavuno provides a place where clothes do not matter, which young people perceive as a place of freedom. By allowing the young to dress in the same way in church as they would when hanging out with friends, Mavuno communicates that this is a space where ‘you can be yourself’. They seem to hold the same views as young people in Niger who claim that dress “is about self-expression, not conformity to religious or cultural norms.”184 If we are to understand the Mavuno
Thus, in one respect dress in Mavuno is taken very seriously and given a lot of thought, and in another it is not taken seriously at all, providing a space where young people can enjoy life and express themselves, while at the same time playing with cultural norms and acting irreverently in some small way. This does not mean there is not tension. Masquelier argues that the youthful, playful, experimental approach to dress “is marked by a tension between a desire to belong and a desire to ‘distinguish [one]self before others’.”185 I think this also is true of Mavuno, both on a subjective and a social level. Individual Mavunites try to distinguish themselves in the eyes of others through the use of dress, at the same time trying to communicate their belonging to the group. Mavuno as a church tries to distinguish itself as a youthful and playful church, at the same time retaining much of the structure, theology, and content of mainstream evangelical and charismatic Christianity. It is sometimes about walking that fine line where their experimental and provocative approach to dress, dance, and music narrowly avoids becoming too much to bear for the rest of the local ecumenical community.
In sum, together with other embodied strategies, congregational and on-stage dress contributes to ritual performance in obvious and vital ways. It becomes a language to communicate the Gospel, as well as a way to convey and foster a sense of belonging and community. Clothes can add to, even create, a feeling of being ‘us’ and ‘not them’. In Woodley, it is a sense of being set apart, born again, and holy that is reinforced through dress, while in Mavuno it is one of being young, free, and professional. In both cases, clothes act as a social skin—simultaneously social and subjective—that speaks of both collective and individual identities, whether desired or already achieved.
4 Bodies Feeling and Not Feeling: Why Emotion Matters
While the above analysis has focused on community, movement, and clothing in relation to embodiment, this last section addresses emotion: the sensing and sensitive body as it were. Thus, while the previous sections examine the body in worship ‘from the outside’, this depicts how worship feels ‘from the inside’ or ‘under the skin’. Of course, as researchers we are not able to get
4.1 Affective Dimensions of Worship
From a pentecostal theological perspective, understood as an ideal type, charismatic worship is affective and affectionate. As we saw in the theoretical introduction in Chapter 2, worship mediates an intimate and emotional relationship of love that is at the same time communal and personal. Music and singing expresses and manifests a corporate longing and desire for God, meanwhile mediating divine love through the Holy Spirit to the congregation. These affective dimensions of worship are in line with the Wesleyan Holiness heritage of pentecostal spirituality, as presented by Steven Land, where God’s love and love for God play a central role.186
The centrality of feelings, desire, and love for pentecostal theology is underlined by Amos Yong who states that the encounter with the Spirit can be understood as an experience whereby “God is perceived to break through into the very depths of the human domain and awaken people’s affections.”187
4.1.1 Cultivating a Receiving Atmosphere through Music
As I also discuss in Chapter 8, many interviewees referred to the emotional capacity of music when asked if it is essential for corporate worship. For example, Pastor Nyaga in Woodley said that “music is critical,”190 partly because of its biblical precedents, partly its emotional capacity. He likened it to the way a soccer game can engage people at an emotional level and in a similar manner: “worship and emotions cannot be separated.”191
Pastor Rose, also in Woodley, describes worshipping through music as “a wholesome practice. It’s very enriching.”192 And although she does not want to call its effects “trance” or “ecstasy”, as a Western professor with whom she interacted had labelled them, she nevertheless sees the similarity with yoga or other types of deep meditation where people enter a transcendental “mind space.”193 Music facilitates a transition into a different reality, a different realm. It “just helps you to access a heavenly realm,” she says.194 The sort of emotional and physical engagement that worship can generate is hard to explain, but it involves a deep immersion, to the point where “you could just be lost in the Lord even in your own personal quiet time”; it can also be experienced when communal worship rises to a “crescendo” where “you feel elated.”195
And sometimes, depending on who’s in your congregation, even though they’re an English-language speaker, they may not be thankful that morning. One person told me to my face, he said, “Rose, I couldn’t sing Great is Thy faithfulness.” I said, “Why couldn’t you sing that?” He said, “Because I don’t think God’s been faithful to me.” And he was being very honest and blunt and like, “Okay. Um, this is painful but thank you for telling me.” And there was another one who said, “I can’t say ‘Thank you’.” And I thought, “Ouch.”196
To hear that someone is not able to be thankful, despite the fact that the person is an ‘English-language speaker’ (belonging to a privileged group in society), is ‘painful’ for her. Yet she appreciates the honesty and the fact that he still came to church and also told her his feelings. She was able to receive and harbour his doubts and his anger towards God (whom he thought had ‘not been faithful’), and yet she herself could see that he had indeed received a great deal in life already. Singing, or not singing, was a key part of his interaction with God. Reflecting on this conversation in relation to praise and worship, she says that worship creates “an atmosphere of God’s presence,” helping people to get to “a point of acknowledging that whether their week was good or bad, God is involved.”197 Regardless of whether they think God is ‘faithful to them’ they are given an opportunity to thank him and “just have that atmosphere of ‘Okay Lord, now I’m ready for what you want to say to me through your servant’.”198 Music thus facilitates the atmosphere that makes people ready to receive God’s personal communication to them through the sermon, and to experience God’s presence.
Several of my other interviewees also used the word ‘atmosphere’ when trying to describe the role of music in church. A member of the Woodley Music team said that music “creates an atmosphere” where the congregation can “connect to God” and where their hearts are “ready for him.” Someone else referred to this as music “piercing the bone marrow” and yet another described it as bringing hearts into a “submissive mode” where they are “softer” and more “broken” before God.199 In a similar manner, Pastor Kamau in Mavuno used
Thus, ‘atmosphere’ is key, and it is at the same time connected to bodily action, sensory input, emotional engagement, and spiritual connectedness. This confirms the picture presented by Dagfinn Ulland, building on Csordas’ work, and quoted in Chapter 2, who describes the section of music and singing in the liturgy as engaging the body in “somatic modes of attention” and surrounding people with “a receiving atmosphere”201 through ritual actions, bodily movements, and repetitive verbal elements. It also confirms the depiction by Mark Cartledge that, from a pentecostal perspective, “the Holy Spirit is mediated via both internal and external aspects” and the “ritual pole” and the “emotional or affective pole”202 are dependent on each other: the Holy Spirit makes God present through emotions and rituals alike. Even though my research participants would not express themselves that way, they do seem to agree that embodied musical practices are central to creating the appropriate emotional and spiritual atmosphere to facilitate a God-encounter.203
Since feelings and emotion are so central to pentecostal-charismatic worship, it also follows that some feelings seem to be valued more than others, and are sought or even expected as part of worship. As Yong observed above, praise and worship “articulates a desiring heart in reception of divine love” and “unfolds the congregational or corporal affections of the church.”204 Understood as an ideal type, it is full of longing, desire, and love. For leaders, it is thus paramount to try and create the perfect environment for this type of longing and desire, this ‘atmosphere’, to arise. While people can come to church in any state of mind, once there, they should enter into an appropriate one through praise and worship. Only then can they experience the ‘crescendo’ and ‘feel elated’ as Pastor Rose expressed it. At the same time, as a pastor, she needs to watch over her congregation, to ensure that things do not
4.1.2 Modes of Ritual Sensibility
One important way to make sure that the whole congregation is at the same spot, following the flow and order of liturgy while experiencing the same type of atmosphere or affective state, is through a deliberate use of different moods, or modes, within the service. Daniel Albrecht refers to this phenomenon as ‘modes of ritual sensibility’, by which he means the “embodied attitudes” with which the participants “perform and experience the ritual”;206 as such, they “help orient and animate”207 each of the rites, actions, and acts included in the liturgy. Albrecht argues that it is impossible to attain a proper understanding of pentecostal ritual without probing the embodied attitudes with which rites are performed. Even though pentecostal rites do maintain a structure, a structural analysis alone will not suffice, since it is the sensibilities that give pentecostal ritual its vitality and authenticity. He identifies seven different modes of ritual sensibility within pentecostal services: celebration, contemplation, transcendental efficacy, penitent/ purgation, ecstasy, improvisation, and ceremony. “Theoretically,” he says, “any rite or practice could be matched with any mode of embodied attitude,” although some “seem more appropriate to particular rites”208 than others. For example, a ceremonial mode is more common in the transitional rites and a pragmatic mode of ‘transcendental efficacy’ characterizes the altar/response time.
In his study, the rite of worship and praise was found to be connected primarily to the ‘mode of celebration’ and the ‘mode of contemplation’. The celebrative mode “takes root in the action and attitude of play,” Albrecht says, which is “an attitude characterized by expressiveness and a quality of spontaneity.”209 Since this mode usually begins the whole service, Albrecht suggests that it sets a boundary between “the world of the commonplace (the mundane)” and “Pentecostal liturgical worship”;210 thus, celebration, “with its play-like quality,” frames the whole of pentecostal ritual and provides a way to “shut out all the
Again it is helpful to think of the two basic phases of praise and worship, and the associated “philosophy of worship”215 described by Ingalls. As described in the initial ethnographic vignettes and discussed in Chapter 5, there is often a flow within the rite of worship and praise from up-beat jubilant songs to slower, more mellow ones, a structure that is well-known in charismatic circles around the globe. Sociologist Margaret Poloma explains the way these different types of music elicit different emotional responses by reference to neurology. In the first phase of the worship section, “Ionian music” is dominant—a type of music that is “associated with the release of dopamine and endorphins”216—while the second phase features “Lydian music”, a type “correlated with a contemplative, relaxed mood that releases serotonin in the brain.”217 Since both types of music tend to be used extensively in any given service it is “likely that the music played during the revival rituals can cause a neurological
From my analysis so far, it should be clear that the flow within the rite of worship and praise is a combination of musical sound and kinetic movement, each phase of the rite paired with its respective sonic landscape and embodied ritual action. Now we may add that the flow is also one of emotion, attitude, sensibility, or affectivity. It is a flow of different ritual modes that moves from celebration to contemplation, and sometimes even into yet another mode, “the penitent mode.”219 Music plays a key role in these modal transitions, affecting worshippers in a very real sense, even at a neurological level.
Albrecht says that in the churches he studied, this last mode, characterized by an attitude of “contrition, repentance, remorse, sorrow, lamenting or grieving”220 was most likely to emerge during the altar/response rite, and not during worship and praise. Although he has observed exceptions, he says that if the penitent mode does occur during worship and praise, “it seems in principle odd” or “inconsistent.”221 From my observations, this is also the case in Mavuno. Their worship is dominated by celebration and also gives some space to contemplation, while I did not observe cases of the penitent mode in connection to music. There were cases when it surfaced briefly at the time of altar/response, and it is possible that it does occur in other ritual settings, such as in small groups or on worship nights, but in the Sunday services that I observed it had a very restricted role. This, however, is not the case in Woodley.
In Woodley, a ‘penitent mode’ dominates the liturgy at the time of communion, marked, for example, by a solemn tone of voice and a quiet demeanour, and since communion is normally integrated into, or at least held in conjunction with the rite of worship and praise, this also affects musical choices. In my interview with her, Pastor Rose narrated a situation in which the time for communion was approaching and the worship leader of the day “still had really nice vibrant songs” with “a celebratory tone.”222 The Senior Pastor then leaned over to her (they were both seated in the front row), saying, “When is she going to get into the communion spirit?”223 And although Rose promised to help him once they got to the front (meaning that she would aid him with a musical transition before the eucharist), “they still said at second service, ‘Please bring
Another aspect of getting the ritual ‘to work’ is for the leaders themselves to get into the right mood, to enter the proper mind space or atmosphere. Serving God and the community is not something that is done lightly or casually; it is emotional work that involves the whole person. Thus, another way to consider the affective dimensions of worship is to ponder the feelings of those who minister in worship, a discussion to which we now turn.
4.2 The Emotions of a Worship Leader
Above, I have discussed the emotional significance of music on a group level: the affective states that research participants report, seek, or even expect to have in connection to worship, as well as the flow of different moods within the service. In this section, I change my perspective to deal with the personal emotions of worship leaders. Rather than examining what the congregation experiences, or what the leaders try to facilitate or achieve in terms of atmosphere and modality, we now look at how they themselves handle the situation of leading a large group of people in an emotionally engaging activity. I concentrate on what Pastor Josh from Mavuno told me, since he was the one who was most open about his own feelings, and shared them with me on this aspect of his task. Other interviewees hinted at similar emotions, but none gave me a close account. Pastor Josh was one of the last to be interviewed and, benefitting from my findings up to that point, I was motivated to question him directly on the matter.
Before answering my question on how he feels when he is on stage leading worship, and how he feels before and after, Pastor Josh explains how he sees his role as a worship leader. He says that he sees himself as a “facilitator,”
4.2.1 Before
So, before I get on stage, many times I would say I’m actually a bit anxious because I don’t know how it’s going to go because, like I said, it’s not about how excellent we are, it’s not about how much we’ve rehearsed, it’s not about how good the song I chose was, but it’s about, it’s about all of us, including myself, being in a space where God is able to just come and just, just take His place and all the glory and all the worship goes to Him. Other than people coming to a place where they are, they’re in awe of our technical skills as we lead the people into worship. So I’m always, I’m always sensitive.227
As a worship leader he experiences a lot of tension before going on stage because he knows that so much depends on him. He is the one, together with his team, who is to make sure that people move into a different realm, ‘a space where God is able to come’ and ‘take his place’ and where ‘all the glory’ goes to him. He knows that their preparations are important but only up to a certain limit. Ultimately, the success of the ritual—whether the worship brings people into that receiving atmosphere where they are open to God and truly worship him—has to do with deeper aspects, including his own relationship with God.
I remember having a discussion with a worship leader I looked up to and there’s one thing that I was told that I will never forget. He says, “Every
time before you climb the stage, [and] as you get down from the stage never forget to always give the glory back to God. Do not take any of that for yourself. Do not think it’s about how you were in the performance, but it’s always about God.” So that’s something I’ve kept with me for over, over ten years.228
Conventional artists may certainly want the audience to have a deep musical experience and get into an emotionally engaging space, and they may not be overly interested in the plaudits, but it is not ‘wrong’ if they are. For worship leaders however, it is not appropriate to ‘take any of that for yourself’; they must remember ‘always to give the glory back to God’. This is a rather complicated role to have; they are expected to be good performers, good musicians, and to have rehearsed well, and yet they must cultivate profound humility and self-abnegation. The success does not depend on ‘how you were in the performance’, yet, at the same time, performance matters. Thus, Pastor Josh says that he is ‘anxious’ and ‘sensitive’ before the service begins; he knows that much is at stake, and he is not sure how it will work out. One can sense his tension in handing over the control to factors beyond himself: ‘it’s always about God’. As a worship leader, he is important, and yet utterly unimportant. He is to facilitate a deep and wholesome God-encounter, yet, ultimately, that encounter is beyond his control.
4.2.2 During
Being on stage is, it’s exciting. I love music and I love good music. And being able to have, being able to have music, and good music at that, and doing it for God is exciting. It’s, I feel like it’s, for me it’s pleasurable knowing that I am, I am lifting up, I’m lifting up something that I believe will be of pleasure to God. So, I think it’s exciting for me when that happens. And then being able to call people into that space where I’m able to make them understand and feel the pleasure that God will get and that they will also get from being able to worship God. So, it’s pretty exciting for me and quite fulfilling as well.229
4.2.3 After
Yet leading worship is also tiring. When asked to describe his feelings after a performance, Pastor Josh says, “I feel like a lot of energy has left me because it’s very emotional, it’s very spiritual, and also physically engaging as well. So, I feel tired.”230 Since worship engages him on so many levels, requiring him to get involved emotionally, spiritually, and physically, it also drains him of a lot of energy. To recover from this demanding task, he loves “to rest” and “be quiet”231 after ministering. Again, he describes the position as being in a certain space or place where he can experience God. “I check myself into a space where I’m able to receive so I’m not giving from a place of emptiness,” he says.232 In his own personal devotion, he enters into the ‘receiving atmosphere’ of worship, to recharge his energy and “get refreshed in God’s presence.”233 As a leader he must watch his own life, continuously restocking his spiritual, emotional, and physical resources, so that he is able to give generously to the congregation. Again, being a worship leader is a responsibility that he takes very seriously. It is fulfilling and yet demanding. And no wonder; if you are there to facilitate an encounter with the Divine, and your performance matters and yet it does not, then that is no small task. It is easy to understand if it feels daunting at times. On the whole, however, positive emotions seem to outweigh negative ones.
In sum, this section has pointed to the critical role of music in cultivating ritual modes and moods, and demonstrated the close connection between emotional, spiritual, and somatic in pentecostal worship, a connection that comes through in ritual practice as well as in the personal lives of leaders. More research is warranted on the affective and embodied dimensions of worship, with close attention paid to the emotional experiences of being a worship leader.
5 Conclusion: The Embodied Character of Worship
In this chapter, I have illustrated and discussed the ways in which the pentecostal rite of worship and praise can be considered an affective and embodied practice. Throughout the chapter, I have grappled with this manifold issue—drawing on perspectives presented in anthropology, psychology of religion, ritual studies, sociology, ethnomusicology, and pentecostal theology—in order to fulfil my commitment to demonstrating the links between embodiment, spirituality, and theology and how these links may take concrete form in a liturgical setting.
The first part of my discussion considered the link between embodiment and community, especially through the theoretical concepts of interaction ritual chains and kinetic orality. My Kenyan interlocutors are in agreement with researchers from several fields that musical forms of congregating indeed foster fellowship and community; however, the discussion also observed that this does not exclude conflict or power plays among those involved in worship.
The second part delved into kinesthetic expressions of worship and elaborated on the ways bodies move within the service, examining the role of dance and rhythm, and the tensions that arise in connection with them. The discussion established the centrality of movement for pentecostal worship and spirituality, and its connection to key theological themes such as faith, the human constitution, and the image of God.
The third part looked at the role of dress, and the different take the two churches have on this issue. Where Woodley favors a dress code that signals modesty and piety, in line with their Holiness background and desire to accommodate older generations in church, Mavuno favors a stylish dress code, in accordance with neo-pentecostal aesthetic ideals, and as a way to communicate the Gospel to young people.
Although embodiment and affectivity are thoroughly intertwined, and emotion and feelings have come up throughout the chapter, the last part dealt explicitly with the affective dimension. It was established that some emotions are expected and sought out in worship, their emergence facilitated by the utilization of different ritual modes, while the lack of those same feelings may present a challenge for worshippers and pastors alike. Special attention was directed to the feelings of the worship leader and the difficulty of handling a role that involves such high personal demands physically, spiritually, emotionally, and musically. Together these four dimensions point to a practice that in its ideal form is deeply embodied and affective, and experienced as highly engaging by many practitioners. It also indicates the limits of such affectivity and embodiment, showing how tensions arise in relation to community, movement, dress, and emotion, tensions that are not always easy to solve. I hope it has become clear to the reader that in pentecostal-charismatic worship, it is impossible to separate the somatic from the affective, the communal from the individual, the practical from the theological, or the transcendent from the immanent. Worship is a holistic practice and must be researched as such.
The analysis above also makes it clear how essential empirical research is to plumbing the depths of pentecostal spirituality. As Amos Yong has pointed
Grimes, The Craft of Ritual Studies, 195. Emphasis in original.
Csordas, ‘Somatic Modes of Attention’, 138.
Hollenweger, Pentecostalism: Origins and Developments Worldwide, 18–19. See also See also Cartledge, Encountering the Spirit: The Charismatic Tradition; André Corten, Pentecostalism in Brazil: Emotion of the Poor and Theological Romanticism (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 1999); Smith, Thinking in Tongues: Pentecostal Contributions to Christian Philosophy; Land, Pentecostal Spirituality: A Passion for the Kingdom; Poloma, Main Street Mystics: The Toronto Blessing and Reviving Pentecostalism; Poloma and Green, The Assemblies of God: Godly Love and the Revitalization of American Pentecostalism.
Anderson, An Introduction to Pentecostalism: Global Charismatic Christianity; Clarke, Pentecostal Theology in Africa; Kalu, ‘Holy Praiseco: Negotiating Sacred and Popular Music and Dance in African Pentecostalism’; Muindi, ‘Ritual and Spirituality in Kenyan Pentecostalism’; Mugambi, A Spirit of Revitalization: Urban Pentecostalism in Kenya; Parsitau, ‘“Then Sings My Soul”: Gospel Music as Popular Culture in the Spiritual Lives of Kenyan Pentecostal/Charismatic Christians’. Embodied and affective forms of worship are also central to black congregations in the West, for example among African-Americans: Edgar (Trey) iii Clark, ‘Liberating Liturgical Theology: Learning from the Building Blocks of Black Worship’, Worship 96 (April 2022): 124–43; Robert A. Mills, ‘Musical Prayers: Reflections on the African Roots of Pentecostal Music’, Journal of Pentecostal Theology 6, no. 12 (April 1998): 109; Yong and Alexander, Afro-Pentecostalism: Black Pentecostal and Charismatic Christianity in History and Culture.
Smith, Thinking in Tongues: Pentecostal Contributions to Christian Philosophy; Smith, Desiring the Kingdom: Worship, Worldview, and Cultural Formation.
Ingalls, Singing the Congregation: How Contemporary Worship Music Forms Evangelical Community, 23.
Ingalls, 17–23, 207–9.
Ingalls, 207.
Ingalls, 208.
Ingalls, 208.
Ingalls, 208–9.
Interview Pastor Deborah 2014-03-21; Interview Woodley Music Team 2014-02-08.
Interview Focus Group Woodley 2014-03-16.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Gitau, Megachurch Christianity Reconsidered: Millennials and Social Change in African Perspective. On identity and community-building through pentecostal-charismatic ritual and music, see also Chitando, ‘Singing Culture: A Study of Gospel Music in Zimbabwe’, 90–94; Lindhardt, ‘Introduction’, 13–15; Mugambi, A Spirit of Revitalization: Urban Pentecostalism in Kenya, 161–94, 291–93.
Robbins, ‘The Obvious Aspects of Pentecostalism: Ritual and Pentecostal Globalization’, 57, 59.
Previously Toronto Airport Christian Fellowship, the centre for the so-called Toronto Blessing.
Peter Althouse and Michael Wilkinson, ‘Musical Bodies in the Charismatic Renewal: The Case of Catch the Fire and Soaking Prayer’, in The Spirit of Praise: Music and Worship in Global Pentecostal-Charismatic Christianity, ed. Monique Marie Ingalls and Amos Yong (University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2015), 32, see also Peter Althouse and Michael Wilkinson, Catch the Fire: Soaking Prayer and Charismatic Renewal (Northern Illinois University Press, 2014). These are much like the ‘affections’ and ‘embodied attitudes’ of which pentecostal theologians speak (see Chapter 2).
Althouse and Wilkinson, ‘Musical Bodies in the Charismatic Renewal: The Case of Catch the Fire and Soaking Prayer’, 33, see also Cartledge, Testimony in the Spirit: Rescripting Ordinary Pentecostal Theology; Mandi M. Miller and Kenneth T. Strongman, ‘The Emotional Effects of Music on Religious Experience: A Study of the Pentecostal-Charismatic Style of Music and Worship’, Psychology of Music 30, no. 1 (1 January 2002): 8–27; Poloma, Main Street Mystics: The Toronto Blessing and Reviving Pentecostalism.
Althouse and Wilkinson, ‘Musical Bodies in the Charismatic Renewal: The Case of Catch the Fire and Soaking Prayer’, 33.
Althouse and Wilkinson, 36.
Althouse and Wilkinson, 41.
Kyra Gaunt, ted talk March 2018, “How the jump rope got its rhythm”,
Kyra Gaunt, ted talk March 2018, “How the jump rope got its rhythm”.
Cornel West, ‘Black Culture and Postmodernism’, in A Postmodern Reader, ed. Joseph P. Natoli and Linda Hutcheon (New York: State University of New York Press, 1993), 395. Compare background discussion in Kyra D. Gaunt, The Games Black Girls Play: Learning the Ropes from Double-Dutch to Hip-Hop (New York: nyu Press, 2006), 3–12.
Gaunt, The Games Black Girls Play: Learning the Ropes from Double-Dutch to Hip-Hop, 61.
Gaunt, 62.
For a description of this system, see Gitau, Megachurch Christianity Reconsidered: Millennials and Social Change in African Perspective, 89–109.
Interview Pastor Nelly 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Nelly 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Nelly 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Nelly 2014-02-11.
Gitau, Megachurch Christianity Reconsidered: Millennials and Social Change in African Perspective, 121–25.
Interview Pastor Nelly 2014-02-11.
Gitau, Megachurch Christianity Reconsidered: Millennials and Social Change in African Perspective, 105.
Gitau, 109.
Gitau, 109.
Gitau, 109.
Gitau, 109.
Albrecht, Rites in the Spirit: A Ritual Approach to Pentecostal/Charismatic Spirituality, 142. Emphasis in original. See further discussion in Chapter 8 and in Cartledge, Encountering the Spirit: The Charismatic Tradition; Cartledge, Mediation of the Spirit: Interventions in Practical Theology; Hegertun, The Spirit Driven Church: Signs of God’s Graceful Presence; Lindhardt, ‘Introduction’; Lord, ‘A Theology of Sung Worship’, and Poloma, Main Street Mystics: The Toronto Blessing and Reviving Pentecostalism.
Albrecht, Rites in the Spirit: A Ritual Approach to Pentecostal/Charismatic Spirituality, 142. Emphasis in original.
Albrecht, 147.
Albrecht, 148.
Albrecht, 148.
Albrecht, 148, fn. 73.
Klaas Bom, ‘“I Feel the Presence of God in My Tears”: On the Theological Contribution to the Research of Latin American Pentecostalism’, Exchange 44, no. 2 (2015): 177–200; Csordas, ‘Somatic Modes of Attention’; Csordas, Language, Charisma, and Creativity: Ritual Life in the Catholic Charismatic Renewal; Luhrmann, ‘Metakinesis: How God Becomes Intimate in Contemporary U.S. Christianity’; Luhrmann, ‘How Do You Learn to Know That It Is God Who Speaks?’; Poloma, Main Street Mystics: The Toronto Blessing and Reviving Pentecostalism; Ulland, Guds Karneval: En Religionspsykologisk Studie av Toronto-Vekkelsens Ekstatiske Spiritualitet. See further discussion in Chapter 1 and 2.
Cartledge, Encountering the Spirit: The Charismatic Tradition, 60.
Cartledge, 56–60. See also discussion in Mugambi, A Spirit of Revitalization: Urban Pentecostalism in Kenya.
Cartledge, Encountering the Spirit: The Charismatic Tradition, 58.
Cartledge, 58.
Albrecht, Rites in the Spirit: A Ritual Approach to Pentecostal/Charismatic Spirituality, 176.
Albrecht, 176.
Compare list of fundamental rites and micro-rites in Albrecht, 254–59.
Cartledge, Testimony in the Spirit: Rescripting Ordinary Pentecostal Theology, 29–54; Johnson, ‘“This Is Not the Warm-up Act!”: How Praise and Worship Reflects Expanding Musical Traditions and Theology in a Bapticostal Charismatic African American Megachurch’; Klaver, ‘Worship Music as Aesthetic Domain of Meaning and Bonding: The Glocal Context of a Dutch Pentecostal Church’; Muindi, ‘Ritual and Spirituality in Kenyan Pentecostalism’; Jacqueline Ryle, ‘Laying Our Sins and Sorrows on the Altar: Ritualizing Catholic Charismatic Reconciliation and Healing in Fiji’, in Practicing the Faith: The Ritual Life of Pentecostal-Charismatic Christians, ed. Martin Lindhardt (New York: Berghahn Books, 2011), 68–97.
There are many variations on this theme, including instructions like, “Let’s give a clap offering!”, “Give Him a round of praise!”, “Let’s appreciate God!”, “Make a joyful noise!”, “Let’s celebrate the Lord!”, “Shout to the Lord”, as well as the more general “Give thanks to Jesus!”, all followed by cheering and clapping. Fieldnotes Woodley 2014-02-02; Fieldnotes Mavuno 2014-01-05; Fieldnotes Woodley 2014-02-02; Fieldnotes Woodley 2014-01-12). See Interlude for more examples.
Albrecht, Rites in the Spirit: A Ritual Approach to Pentecostal/Charismatic Spirituality, 143–48.
Compare Ingalls’ description of how young Evangelicals learn to express ‘freedom’ and ‘authenticity’ by experimenting with physical and vocal gestures in worship concerts, Ingalls, Singing the Congregation: How Contemporary Worship Music Forms Evangelical Community, 54–55; see also Csordas, ‘Ritualization of Life’. On flow and pentecostal experience of God, see James H. S. Steven, Worship in the Spirit: Charismatic Worship in the Church of England, Studies in Evangelical History and Thought (Paternoster Press, 2002), 117–18.
Albrecht, Rites in the Spirit: A Ritual Approach to Pentecostal/Charismatic Spirituality, 140.
Humphrey and Laidlaw, The Archetypal Actions of Ritual: A Theory of Ritual Illustrated by the Jain Rite of Worship, 8. See also discussion in Chapter 2.
Humphrey and Laidlaw, 8.
On the difference between ‘getting it right’ and ‘getting it done’ see Edward L. Schieffelin, ‘Introduction’, in When Rituals Go Wrong: Mistakes, Failure and the Dynamics of Ritual, ed. Ute Hüsken (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 3, and Björkander, ‘Who Got the Rite Wrong? The Mavuno Alternative Christmas Service and Charismatic Ritual’.
Albrecht, Rites in the Spirit: A Ritual Approach to Pentecostal/Charismatic Spirituality, 190.
Albrecht, 190. See also Csordas, Language, Charisma, and Creativity: Ritual Life in the Catholic Charismatic Renewal, 108–11; Ingalls, Singing the Congregation: How Contemporary Worship Music Forms Evangelical Community, 17, 54.
Albrecht, Rites in the Spirit: A Ritual Approach to Pentecostal/Charismatic Spirituality, 190.
Althouse and Wilkinson, ‘Musical Bodies in the Charismatic Renewal: The Case of Catch the Fire and Soaking Prayer’, 30; see also pp. 36–41. See also Percy, ‘Adventure and Atrophy in a Charismatic Movement: Returning to the “Toronto Blessing”’, 165, and Ulland, Guds Karneval: En Religionspsykologisk Studie av Toronto-Vekkelsens Ekstatiske Spiritualitet, 126–41. Compare also Csordas, ‘Ritualization of Life’, 143. where he discusses experiences of young people regularly simulating such manifestations due to the pressure to conform to the spiritual ideals of the Catholic charismatic group where they grew up.
Travis Kavulla, ‘Troubled In Spirit: The Surprising Direction of African Christianity’, National Review 60, no. 4 (2008): 42–45; Paul Gifford, ‘The Primal Pentecostal Imagination’, Suomen Antropologi: Journal of the Finnish Anthropological Society 34, no. 2 (Summer 2009): 44–52.
Travis R. Kavulla, ‘“Our Enemies Are God’s Enemies”: The Religion and Politics of Bishop Margaret Wanjiru, mp’, Journal of Eastern African Studies 2, no. 2 (2008): 256.
For an excellent philosophical discussion of glossolalia, see Smith, Thinking in Tongues: Pentecostal Contributions to Christian Philosophy, 123–50. For a brief historical sketch of the role of tongues in Pentecostalism, see Henri Gooren, ‘Conversion Narratives’, in Studying Global Pentecostalism: Theories and Methods, ed. Allan Anderson et al. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2010), 99–100. For an overview of research on glossolalia from a psychological perspective, Stefan Huber and Odilo W. Huber, ‘Pshychology of Religion’, in Studying Global Pentecostalism: Theories and Methods, ed. Allan Anderson et al. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2010), 134–40. See also discussion on typology and definitions of Pentecostalism in Anderson, ‘Varieties, Taxonomies, and Definitions’, 16–27. For a critical African ecumenical perspective, see Francis Machingura, ‘The Significance of Glossolalia in the Apostolic Faith Mission, Zimbabwe’, Studies in World Christianity 17, no. 1 (2011): 12–29.
Percy, ‘Adventure and Atrophy in a Charismatic Movement: Returning to the “Toronto Blessing”’, 165.
Anderson, ‘Varieties, Taxonomies, and Definitions’, 25.
Anderson, 25.
Anderson, 25.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11; Pastor Munga 2013-01-24.
Cultural Theory: Black Music Part 1; building on Floyd, ‘Ring Shout! Literary Studies, Historical Studies, and Black Music Inquiry’; see also Floyd, The Power of Black Music: Interpreting Its History from Africa to the United States.
Cartledge, Encountering the Spirit: The Charismatic Tradition, 52; Rebecca Uberoi, ‘“Dance Your Sorrow Away!”: Spirituality, Community and Wellbeing in Christ Apostolic Church, Dublin.’, Legon Journal of the Humanities 27, no. 2 (July 2016): 126. Compare Tim Hughes, Here I Am to Worship (Baker Publishing Group, 2013), 31–33; Rory Noland, Worship on Earth as It Is in Heaven: Exploring Worship as a Spiritual Discipline (Zondervan, 2011), 148–49.
See for example discussion in Awet Andemicael, ‘Holiness and Worldliness: Theologies of Early Black Gospel Music in the Sanctified Church’, Pneuma 38, no. 4 (2016): 394–410; Kalu, ‘Holy Praiseco: Negotiating Sacred and Popular Music and Dance in African Pentecostalism’; Katrien Pype, ‘Dancing for God or the Devil: Pentecostal Discourse on Popular Dance in Kinshasa’, Journal of Religion in Africa 36, no. 3–4 (2006): 296–318. In Sweden, dance was prohibited for early generations of classical Pentecostals, among them my parents and grand-parents.
Fieldnotes Mavuno Sunday Service 2014-01-05.
Csordas, Language, Charisma, and Creativity: Ritual Life in the Catholic Charismatic Renewal, 190.
Clapper, ‘Orthokardia: John Wesley’s Grammar of the Holy Spirit’.
Fieldnotes Sunday Service Mavuno 2014-02-02.
I know who I am, by Sinach
Csordas, ‘Somatic Modes of Attention’.
Compare discussion in Smith, Thinking in Tongues: Pentecostal Contributions to Christian Philosophy, 48–62.
Smith, 57.
For a discussion on pentecostal views of the human constitution, see, for example, Matthew John Churchouse, ‘Renewing the Soul: Towards an Enhanced Pentecostal Philosophical Theological Doctrine of Human Constitution.’, Department of Theology and Religion (University of Birmingham, 2018); see also William Atkinson, ‘Spirit, Soul and Body: The Trichotomism of Kenyon, Hagin, and Copeland.’, Refleks 5, no. 1 (2006): 98–118; William Atkinson, The ‘Spiritual Death’ of Jesus: A Pentecostal Investigation (Leiden: Brill, 2009).
As Pastor Nyaga in Woodley expressed it, echoing the New Testament, “for when the Spirit of God comes and indwells you, you’re a child of God, your spirit that was dead is made alive in Christ.” Interview Pastor Nyaga 2014-03-21; cf. Joh 3:1–8, Rom 8:11, Eph 2:5, Col 2:13.
Luhrmann, ‘Metakinesis: How God Becomes Intimate in Contemporary U.S. Christianity’.
Csordas, Language, Charisma, and Creativity: Ritual Life in the Catholic Charismatic Renewal, 190.
Csordas, 190.
Albrecht, Rites in the Spirit: A Ritual Approach to Pentecostal/Charismatic Spirituality, 102. Possibly a certain development has taken place since Csordas and Albrecht wrote their studies. Tuija Hovi describes a situation where praise dance is novel in Finland, but where inspiration is taken from neo-charismatic circles in the U.S., Hovi, ‘Praising as Bodily Practice: The Neocharismatic Culture of Celebration’, 135–36.
Compare discussion in Uberoi, ‘“Dance Your Sorrow Away!”: Spirituality, Community and Wellbeing in Christ Apostolic Church, Dublin’.
Interview Pastor Josh 2014-02-12; Interview Gideon Achieng 2014-03-14; Interview Pastor Munga 2013-01-24; see also Gitau, Megachurch Christianity Reconsidered: Millennials and Social Change in African Perspective.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Josh 2014-02-12.
Interview Pastor Josh 201402012. Pastor Rose in Woodley instead struggled with how to overcome the fact that the church leadership has put a ban on watching YouTube videos on the office computer, since it impedes her preparations. Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Munga 2013-01-24.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
But see Anita Yadala Suneson, ‘The Contextual Significance of Clothes and Jewellery: Lived Religion among Pentecostals in South India’, PentecoStudies 20, no. 2 (2021): 173–94; and Anthea D. Butler, ‘Unrespectable Saints: Women of the Church of God in Christ’, in The Religious History of American Women: Reimagining the Past, ed. Catherine A. Brekus (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2007).
Karen Tranberg Hansen, ‘Introduction’, in African Dress: Fashion, Agency, Performance, ed. Karen Tranberg Hansen and D. Soyini Madison (London: New York: Bloomsbury, 2013), 3.
Joanne Entwistle (2001) in Hansen, 2–3.
Jennifer Craik (1994) in Hansen, 2.
Hansen, 3.
Lynne Hume, The Religious Life of Dress: Global Fashion and Faith (London: New York: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2013), 2.
Hume, 1–5.
Hume, 1.
Meyer, ‘Pentecostalism and Globalization’, 126.
Meyer, 126.
Johannes Kessler (1525) and the Strasbourg conference of Anabaptists (1568), quoted in Hume, The Religious Life of Dress: Global Fashion and Faith, 36.
Hume, 39.
Hume, 48.
Hume, 35.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Woodley Music Team 2014-02-08.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Woodley Music Team; Interview Mavuno Music Team, Interview Pastor Rose; and Interview Pastor Josh.
Boone, ‘Worship and the Torah’, 25.
Boone, 25.
Anderson, An Introduction to Pentecostalism: Global Charismatic Christianity, 47–57; see also Dayton, Theological Roots of Pentecostalism; and David Bundy, Visions of Apostolic Mission: Scandinavian Pentecostal Mission to 1935 (Uppsala: Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis, 2009).
Anderson, ‘Varieties, Taxonomies, and Definitions’, 17. Anderson also includes a third (Oneness) and a fourth (Apostolic) sub-group among classical Pentecostals.
Anderson, ‘Varieties, Taxonomies, and Definitions’.
Virginia Lieson Brereton (1991), quoted in Gooren, ‘Conversion Narratives’, 98. Emphasis in original.
Gooren, 97–99.
Butler, ‘Unrespectable Saints: Women of the Church of God in Christ’.
Yadala Suneson, ‘The Contextual Significance of Clothes and Jewellery: Lived Religion among Pentecostals in South India’.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Grimes, The Craft of Ritual Studies, 195.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Terence Turner (1993, 1980), referenced in Hansen, ‘Introduction’, 2.
Hansen, 2.
Hansen, 2.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Josh 2014-02-12.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
On different models of how church interacts with culture in mission, see discussion in Stephen B. Bevans and Roger Schroeder, Constants in Context: A Theology of Mission for Today (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2004), 32–72; Bosch, Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission, 368–457; see also Stephen B. Bevans, Models of Contextual Theology (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1992); and Lamin O. Sanneh, Translating the Message: The Missionary Impact on Culture (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1989).
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Fieldnotes Mavuno Sunday service 2013-12-29.
Meyer, ‘Pentecostalism and Globalization’, 126.
That Mavuno shares neo-pentecostal aesthetic ideals does not mean that they promote the so-called ‘prosperity gospel’ in their teachings. In common with other educated, middle-class churches in the Progressive Pentecostal category, they have a different attitude toward miraculous material blessings than earlier generations of Neo-Pentecostals. Theirs is a theology that encourages economic accountability and transparency along with a holistic view of salvation. See discussion in Mugambi, A Spirit of Revitalization: Urban Pentecostalism in Kenya, 147–59; compare Miller and Yamamori, Global Pentecostalism: The New Face of Christian Social Engagement. There is a vast literature on the prosperity gospel in African Pentecostalism, see for example: Asamoah-Gyadu, African Charismatics: Current Developments Within Independent Indigenous Pentecostalism in Ghana, 201–32; Asamoah-Gyadu, Contemporary Pentecostal Christianity: Interpretations from an African Context; Gifford, Christianity, Politics and Public Life in Kenya, 112–35, 150–59; Gifford, ‘The Ritual Use of the Bible in African Pentecostalism’; Kalu, African Pentecostalism: An Introduction, 255–59; Martin Lindhardt, ‘More Than Just Money: The Faith Gospel and Occult Economies in Contemporary Tanzania’, Nova Religio: The Journal of Alternative and Emergent Religions, no. 1 (2009): 41–67; Machingura, ‘The Significance of Glossolalia in the Apostolic Faith Mission, Zimbabwe’; see also Katherine Attanasi and Amos Yong, Pentecostalism and Prosperity: The Socio-Economics of the Global Charismatic Movement, Christianities of the World (New York: Palgrave Macmillan US, 2012).
Meyer, ‘Pentecostalism and Globalization’, 126.
Meyer, 126.
Meyer, 126.
Adeline Masquelier, ‘Forging Connections, Performing Distinctions:Youth, Dress, and Consumption in Niger’, in African Dress: Fashion, Agency, Performance, ed. Karen Tranberg Hansen and D. Soyini Madison (London: Bloomsbury, 2013), 144.
Yadala Suneson, ‘The Contextual Significance of Clothes and Jewellery: Lived Religion among Pentecostals in South India’.
This is not to say that the importance of dress, or the connection between style and theology, is unique among pentecostal Christians. Christians from all traditions have ideas about dress, and different understandings of what consists appropriate dress for worship. For example, wearing ‘Sunday best’ is common in many Protestant churches around the globe.
Masquelier, ‘Forging Connections, Performing Distinctions:Youth, Dress, and Consumption in Niger’, 143.
Masquelier, 143.
Mavuno research survey, conducted by researcher and research assistant, March 2014. See Introduction and Appendix 5 for details.
Terence Turner (1993, 1980), referenced in Hansen, ‘Introduction’, 2.
Hansen, 3.
Hansen, 4. Emphasis in original.
Hansen (2009:118), quoted in Masquelier, ‘Forging Connections, Performing Distinctions:Youth, Dress, and Consumption in Niger’, 149.
Masquelier, 149.
Masquelier, 138.
Masquelier, 149.
Land, Pentecostal Spirituality: A Passion for the Kingdom. See also discussion in Yong, Spirit of Love: A Trinitarian Theology of Grace, on holiness heritage, page 59–74, and on Land, page 76–80. Compare Cartledge, Mediation of the Spirit: Interventions in Practical Theology; Clapper, ‘Orthokardia: John Wesley’s Grammar of the Holy Spirit’; Lord, ‘A Theology of Sung Worship’; Poloma and Green, The Assemblies of God: Godly Love and the Revitalization of American Pentecostalism. See further discussion in Chapter 8.
Yong, Spirit of Love: A Trinitarian Theology of Grace, 55.
Yong, 53–55.
Yong, 55.
Interview Pastor Nyaga 2014-03-21.
Interview Pastor Nyaga 2014-03-21.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Woodley Music Team 2014-02-08.
Interview Pastor Kamau 2014-02-11.
Ulland, Guds Karneval: En Religionspsykologisk Studie av Toronto-Vekkelsens Ekstatiske Spiritualitet, 221.
Cartledge, Mediation of the Spirit: Interventions in Practical Theology, 64–65.
Compare Althouse and Wilkinson, ‘Musical Bodies in the Charismatic Renewal: The Case of Catch the Fire and Soaking Prayer’.
Yong, Spirit of Love: A Trinitarian Theology of Grace, 53.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Albrecht, Rites in the Spirit: A Ritual Approach to Pentecostal/Charismatic Spirituality, 179.
Albrecht, 177.
Albrecht, 179.
Albrecht, 180–81. Emphasis in original.
Albrecht, 181.
Albrecht, 181.
Albrecht, 184.
Albrecht, 183.
Albrecht, 183.
Ingalls, ‘Introduction’, 6; see also Ruth and Lim, Lovin’ on Jesus: A Concise History of Contemporary Worship and discussion in Chapter 8.
Poloma, Main Street Mystics: The Toronto Blessing and Reviving Pentecostalism, 48.
Poloma, 48.
Poloma, 48.
Albrecht, Rites in the Spirit: A Ritual Approach to Pentecostal/Charismatic Spirituality, 184.
Albrecht, 184.
Albrecht, 185.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
Interview Pastor Rose 2014-01-31.
On ritual disruption, see, for example, Hüsken, When Rituals Go Wrong: Mistakes, Failure and the Dynamics of Ritual; McClymond, Ritual Gone Wrong: What We Learn from Ritual Disruption.
Interview Pastor Josh 2014-02-12.
Interview Pastor Josh 2014-02-12.
Interview Pastor Josh 2014-02-12.
Interview Pastor Josh 2014-02-12.
Interview Pastor Josh 2014-02-12.
Interview Pastor Josh 2014-02-12.
Interview Pastor Josh 2014-02-12.
Interview Pastor Josh 2014-02-12.
Yong, Spirit of Love: A Trinitarian Theology of Grace, 90.