Fundamentalists are not completely opposed to outward displays of worship but make no mistake that when a fundamentalist raises his hands in a service it is quite a different thing from when a charismatic tounges-speaking NIV-carrying Pentacostal does it.

The first major element of the fundamentalist hand raise is the duration. Hands must be shot up and put down within a five-count at the longest. Hands that linger aloft too long may be attached to a person who listens to CCM music.

The second element is the force. A hand must not drift upwards in an airy manner but rather be thrust up from the shoulder in a type of  forward-facing  ‘karate chop’ motion. Let not your hand give an uncertain gesture. And whatever you do, keep your wrist firm. Limp wrists are the devil’s tools.

The third important part of hand-raising is the accompanying yell. Bellowing “Preach it!” or “Shake that bush!” to go along with this motion removes all doubt that the hand-raiser is not waving or emoting but rather saluting in a stern and serious fashion.

These differences are as vital as they are subtle. Yet the distinctions can make all the difference between being a fundamentalist and being a happy-clappy, mumbo-jumbo, praise and worship compromiser.

The new year is upon us and that means fundamentalist churches are gearing up for the annual ‘watch night’ service extravaganza. Out with the old…in with the equally old.

Watch Night services have served a multitude of purposes over the years. They have given fundamentalists an excuse not to go New Years parties with likker and rock-and-roll. Preacher boys get a chance to preach in front of folks who are so tired they don’t care whether the preaching is even intelligible. But most importantly, it’s historically the one night a year when the old reel-to-reel projector is pulled out of storage and MOVIES are played in the church.

Let not your heart be troubled, these are not evil Hellywood movies. They are granted special dispensation because they come from sacred places like Bob Jones.

How fundamentalists hearts have thrilled to films like Red Runs the River and Thief in the Night. No reveler in Times Square has ever come close to this kind of excitement on the eve of the New Year.

If you ever go on a fundamentalist youth group outing, chances are you’ll end up at the local roller rink. With so few non-worldly options to choose from for group entertainment, roller skating is a favorite activity in fundy circles.

Being fundamentalists, of course, they way they roller skate is little different from the rest of the population — if there even is anybody in the general population who still roller skates.

Since skirts are much more modest than pants when a girl is falling down in front of everyone, they are required. Alternatively a pair of stylish culottes may be worn. The music selections will also be unique, consisting of the most popular dance music from three-hundred years ago and (if it gets really wild and crazy) Southern Gospel quartets.

So strap on your roller skates and prepare to be thrilled by awkward flirting from the other fundamentalist teens. And be oh, so thankful that your church has rented out the entire roller rink and nobody else is there to witness you in a pair of culottes.

Fundamentalists would never let a woman preach in one of their churches. Some won’t even let women speak from the church platform. Yet strangely enough, women missionaries like Isabel Kuhn, Mary Slessor, and Amy Carmichael are highly praised in fundy circles.

It would seem that there is an unwritten rule that goes like this “A woman must never, never ever have spiritual authority over a man unless that man lives in a remote part of the world and has skin at least two shades darker than her own.”

It’s a fair guess that if the lady missionary in question were from Africa and her work involved instructing men in Raleigh, NC she would probably not make it into the fundamentalist hall of fame.

Bus ministries are an outreach method that involves people who live next to the Mount Zion Fundamentalist Baptist church being ferried across town to go to the Fundamentalist Baptist Church of Mount Zion. It all comes out even, though. The FBCMZ is most likely picking up kids from the MZFB neighborhood as well.

The job of a bus captain and his cohorts is not an easy one. There are countless hours of canvasing neighborhoods to root out likely riders. Then the bus crew are up and out at the crack of dawn stopping at houses and collecting all of the kids and trying to keep them safe, quiet, and occupied on the trip.  After church is over, all of the bus kids must be returned home again. Week after week. Month after month. And woe be unto him who turns back from the plough — it’s almost impossible to leave a ministry once you’ve started in it.

With all the rigors of the bus ministry at least there aren’t further annoyances for the workers like needing to go through background checks…

If a boy has grown up in a fundamentalist family he’s almost certain to know the names Bill Collins, Poetry, Circus, Dragonfly, Big Jim, Little Jim, and Old Man Paddler. In fact, those characters are probably just as real to him as people he’s known in in real life.

The Sugar Creek Gang books written by Paul Hutchens involve a gang (the good, wholesome kind, not the kind with guns) of boys who encounter swamp robbers, killer bears, kidnappers, and a host of other adventures. And they do it in the most squeaky-clean way possible. If  you can imagine Tom Sawyer having a Baptist deacon for a dad, you might be close to the right idea.

Living out these adventures is not a bad way to spend your hours as a kid.  Spend enough time reading them and you can close your eyes and almost taste Old Man Paddler’s sassafras tea…

Three cheers for the Great Blondin for crossing Niagara falls on tightrope and providing one of the most repeated illustrations about faith (or was it grace?) to fundamentalists everywhere.

How history might have been changed if Jean Francois Gravelot had decided to become an accountant instead.

Fundamentalists take the command to “be fruitful and multiply” very seriously. After all, the best way to make sure there are always a supply of young fundamentalists is to grow your own. The Amish have successfully used this technique for centuries and fundies are big fans too.

Having a family of seven, twelve, or sixteen kids is a lot of work and very expensive. That’s why fundamentalist fathers take only the best paying jobs like assistant Christian school gym teacher or church handyman. Getting the group discount at parks and museums is just an added bonus.

Of course, having a large family does present some difficulties too. People will stare and ask silly questions like “are these all yours?” (as if someone would willingly drag nine of someone else’s kids through Walmart). Children do accidentally get left at stores and gas stations. And going out to eat can require more planning and expense than the Normandy Invasion.

It’s not all bad, however. there are advantages too. For example, not every teenager gets the privilege of  learning to drive in a fifteen-passenger van. And if all the kids learn a musical instrument, there’s a lot of opportunity for traveling performance ministries.

Why settle for any less than a quiver full?

You either get this one or you don’t.

Having visiting missionaries in the audience is an exciting time at fundamentalist churches. They set up displays with neat pictures and artifacts from their mission field. They tell thrilling stories of exotic peoples and cultures in far away lands like Botswana, Tanzania, or New Jersey. But most importantly, missionaries show slide shows.

The slide show inevitably starts with National Geographesque scenes of the “picturesque beauty of the country” and some vital statistics.

“19% of children under five in this country are red-headed and left-handed. The plains region shown here receives 473 inches of rain yearly. The national dish is fried earthworms.”

Next come the stories of the missionary’s work

“In this picture we see the church building where we’ve been meeting for the past three years. Sorry…that man’s not really standing on his head, I must have put that slide in upside down. This man was our first convert — his name means ‘hater of fat white people’.”

At the end comes the ‘ministry plea’ portion with and endless stream of faces of people old and young. (Mission field seems somewhat short on middle-aged ugly people.) For those missionaries are able to afford multimedia presentations (a.k.a. a tape recorder) a song like “People Need the Lord” or “Thank You” will wail out to underscore the need on this particular field.

One may wonder if putting the church members’ neighbors on a screen with a soundtrack would make them seem more needy of the gospel. But one doesn’t wonder for too long. It’s time for the love offering…