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And so on. You couldn't make out what the preacher said any more, on account of the shouting and crying. Folks got up everywheres in the crowd, and worked their way just by main strength to the mourners' bench, with the tears running down their faces; and when all the mourners had got up there to the front benches in a crowd, they sung and shouted and flung themselves down on the straw, just crazy and wild. (20.32)
"Crazy" and "wild" aren't words we often association with religion. What kind of experience is this? Are the people really getting any religion out of this—or are they just letting off some steam in an era before football games?
And the minute the words were out of his mouth somebody over in the crowd struck up the doxolojer, and everybody joined in with all their might, and it just warmed you up and made you feel as good as church letting out. Music is a good thing; and after all that soul-butter and hogwash I never see it freshen up things so, and sound so honest and bully. (25.8)
"Doxolojer" isn't some weird magical incantation; it's Huck's version of "doxology," a Christian expression of praise. And check out how, after all the wild craziness of the revival, we end up feeling pretty good. Maybe there is something to be said for getting together in a tent and cutting loose with a hundred other of the faithful?
There was the Sunday-school, you could a gone to it; and if you'd a done it they'd a learnt you there that people that acts as I'd been acting about that nigger goes to everlasting fire." (31.19)
Ah, church, where you learn important lessons like being respectful to your parents, speaking the truth, and not helping your neighbors' slaves escape.