When I Was Young People Danced at Church

When I was young people often shouted and danced at church. Anybody and everybody could participate. These most often took place during singing at the first part of the service, alongside of the sermon, or during the altar gathering at the end, but they could erupt at any time. Since we were holiness folk we didn’t use the word “dance” a lot, after all it was sinful to go to dances. People usually clarified by saying “danced in the Spirit.” It was also common to refer to dancing as a form of shouting. When someone talked about shouting they might be referring to loud speech or to physical movement. [For clarity I’ll use the words as two different worship activities, shouting will refer to talking or yelling out loud and dancing will refer to expressive physical motion.]

Shouting could be as simple as calling out words and phrases like “glory,” “yes, Lord, yes,” “amen,” “hallelujah,” or “preach it” in response to what was being said or sung. During a sermon these affirmations encouraged the preacher to keep going and they let the individual preach alongside of the preacher. The individual might yell out complete sentences of their own parallel sermon, like back-up singers to a lead singer. If the sermon wasn’t going well, especially when a young person was speaking, the “shouts” might be prayers like “bless him, Lord” or “help her, Jesus.”

Sometimes the shouts were outbursts that seemed more a response to an unseen touch of God than to anything that was being said. Most often these were in English, but sometimes the worshiper rattled off a series of syllables that were from an unknown language. On some occasions the member would speak a lengthy set of phrases in the unknown language. Everyone would get very quiet and listen, praying for the interpretation to be given in English.

Shouting often led to dancing. A shouter might jump up and wave a hand as he or she spoke, sitting down as quickly as they arose. Someone else might move into the isle and begin to dance or even run excitingly. Most often these dances involved rapid movement of the arms and legs, but the entire body might be involved. Occasionally someone would spin like a human top, both feet pumping up and down as they twirled on their toes. During the altar service shouting and dancing often signaled someone had just “prayed through” to the victory they were seeking. They had been touched by the power of God.

Preachers, overcome with excitement or the “anointing,” would often dance during a sermon. Pastor F. L. (Bud) Braddock would intersperse quick steps throughout his sermons like visual exclamation points. Unlike many who seemed to loose control when dancing, his were motions of controlled celebration. They appeared much like an Irish jig or what use to be called “buck dancing,” feet kicking in a quick jerking motion up high behind and down, arms swinging in rhythm from the elbows. Five or six quick licks and back to preaching he went.

It was Sister Hattie Taylor who most captured my attention when she danced. Sister Taylor was one of the older saints. She always dressed nicely, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and her white hair neatly curled up around her head. Her dance was an elegant shuffle, slightly swinging left to right as she slowly moved down the aisle and around the altar and back. There was no sense of an outburst of energy, instead she seemed lost in the rapturous presence of God as if He was sashaying down the aisle beside her. Adoration and joy, just pure pleasure, was written across her face. When she danced the rest of us knew we were sitting in heavenly places.

I have grown accustomed to choreographed dance at church (well, almost). When done well it is a beautiful expression of praise. I believe our Father cherishes all of our sincere efforts to express our love and adoration for Him. But I miss those spontaneous dances choreographed by the Holy Spirit as worshippers responded to the powerful presence of God. Some modern sociologists have concluded those now infrequent frenzied dances represented not an escape from reality as some have claimed, but rather a confrontation of reality, in them we were encountering the only One big enough to tame our problems. Have our problems really gotten smaller?

Those dances were dances with God more than messages/lessons about Him. Thus they taught us more than we could know. I once heard Nicky Cruz of The Cross and the Switchblade fame say that when he got saved he didn’t quit dancing, he just changed partners and his new partner always led. When God gets full control of our worship I wonder what it will look like.