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For many years I belonged to a Christian nationalist church in the UK. All of Mr Blue cap’s shouty rhetoric super familiar. AMA?
What denomination was it? What type of things did they say? Who did they tell you to vote for?
Independent house church movement. Evangelical charismatic.
No political party was good enough, it was all part of the evil system. Curiously, this made it easier to vote for incompetent blaggards like Boris Johnson because they themselves were simply tools being taken advantage of by God who was ‘breaking though’. Chaos was seen as a sign this was happening.
EU was the vehicle for the anti Christ etc. Many connections to American churches. A very strong sense of belonging to a ‘nation’ not of this earth and having this in common with American brethren, yet this making one uniquely qualified to take a rightful place in governing the decline of the world in these last days. All to usher in the Day.
Moral panic coexisting with hypocritical laxes in personal mortality, yet somehow this all propelled a deeper desperation to pray with fervour.
House churches 💀
Yeah, it sounds like a breeding ground for crazies. How did you practice communion?
It varied over time. Most often if during a service then they’d pray over a loaf of bread, break it, and two regular people would stand at the front, one with a plate of bread and the other with a cup of non alcoholic wine. And you’d queue and break a bit of bread yourself, and dip it in the wine. Some ate it right away, some went back to their seats. This would usually be during the response time of worship so while you were queuing there would be people on their knees around you praying, or weeping, or waving their hands, and you’d have to step over the various bodies prostrate on the floor, praying or otherwise “slain in the spirit”.
It would be done in house groups too. It would be much the same except you’d be sat on someone’s couch.
making one uniquely qualified to take a rightful place in governing the decline of the world in these last days.
That sounds suspiciously like some of the shit I ignored about my church growing up.
If it was spun as some sort of clan of urban monks that would almost be cool. But it wasn’t, it was Shirley from the hairdresser’s being rapt with heaven and believing she could run the UK Treasury.