Lifting holy hands

By Sarah Laing

Lifting holy hands.

In the darkened auditorium, it is difficult to make out individual faces, features blurred in a fog of dry ice and dust. The occasional roving strobe light, neon blue or green, shoots down from rigging high above the crowd. A man with an asymmetrical haircut moves to sit behind the drum kit, soon joined by a guitarist in skin-tight black jeans, then followed by four young people, all of above average attractiveness. In their hands, they all hold microphones.

For the moment, the crowd ignores the activity up front, squeezing between rows of fold out chairs, or moving amongst the mass of milling bodies clustered around the bar. But nobody’s serving drinks at the Gramercy Theater tonight, last night’s shot specials covered by a large white banner, “Hillsong NYC” scrawled in graffiti script.

A quick-tempoed bass riff begins, insistent beneath the buzz of conversation. The quick one-two-three click of drumsticks, and suddenly the front of the room bursts into a wall of sound. As of one accord, bodies turn, rising from their seats, eyes fixed on words projected three feet tall across the front wall. A zing of electric guitar hits the melody, and in a rush of off key voices, the fourth service of the day has begun.

It isn’t long before the hands begin to rise. A young Asian man up front was there at the first beat, arms flung heavenward before the singing even began. Through the first verse, the crowd seems hesitant, shifting on their feet, still a little distracted by latecomers pushing past. By the second chorus however, they are popping up everywhere, two hands held high, palms open to the sky. Another variant emerges as the music takes a turn for the contemplative – two arms held at waist level, fingers splayed, a half shrug toward the divine.

The third song can only be described as the sacred equivalent of a power ballad, all soaring melody and passionate declarations of adoration. Half hidden behind a veil of brown hair and an acoustic guitar, a young woman sings:

“The same power that conquered the grave lives in me,

Your love that rescued the world, lives in me”.

By the time that bridge has been sung for the fifth time, the majority of the worshippers, some crying, have their hands in the air, swaying back and forth. The tension in the upheld arms is visible, reaching, grasping, striving. It looks like whole-body worship – par for course here at one of New York’s fastest growing churches. Just 18 months old, it is an offshoot of Hillsong Church, a vaguely Pentecostal evangelical group based out of Australia. The church has no building of its own yet, and moves between venues, larger with each move. This week, they’re at the Gramercy Theater on East 23^rd St in Manhattan.

“I’ve been coming here for about a year, and this behavior in service is pretty typical,” said Chris Strickland. “I think the technical term for it is ‘raising holy hands’”.

Strickland, a 27-year-old retail worker, grew up worshipping this way, which he likens to a crowd showing appreciation at a rock concert.

“It’s a physical way of expressing gratitude. It’s also a way of surrendering that feels very natural, even though it’s something I do consciously.”

Emma Payne, a 23-year-old student, takes a slightly more cynical view of the proceeding.

“Sometimes it’s just pure mimicry. If you were watching, you could see people start shaking their fists after the lead singer started doing it,” she said, acknowledging the power of peer pressure in worship.

“I do think it’s got a Biblical basis – it’s mentioned in the Psalms, among other places. But do I think it’s a salvation issue? Of course not,” she said, adding that she often raises her hands to help her concentrate on worshipping.

She could be referring to any one of the dozen references to worshipping specifically with upheld hands in the Psalms. For example, in the 63^rd psalm, the writer specifically exhorts his reader to: “Lift up your hands to the holy place and bless the Lord!”

Payne also provides an interesting commentary on the various postures, likening them to spiritual sign language, or perhaps interpretive dance.

“Palms open is a receiving gesture, and you’ll often to it when the song is about being filled by Spirit or something. The reaching is for songs that are about giving, like when you’re thanking God, or praising Him,” she said, before turning away to pass the collection bucket on down the row.

This entry was posted on Monday, March 5th, 2012 at 10:25 pm. It is filed under News, Sarah Laing, View From NYC. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.