'If I speak with the tongues of men and angels...'

I'm a former Pentecostal, and I have a confession to make. Even though I still believe in the gift of tongues, I still have no idea what the supposed scriptural basis is for a "prayer language."

This is a practice among Pentecostals and charismatics of praying in unknown tongues during private prayer time. The believers I've known who practice the karisma swear by it. They describe these prayers as effortless, tireless, and a direct line between their soul and God, unobstructed by the clumsiness of human speech.

The difficulty I'm having is that if Scripture is our guide to spiritual matters, it doesn't provide much guidance when it comes to having a personal prayer language. When the glossolalia first was manifest in Acts 2, it was with the express effect that Jews from all over the world heard the gospel proclaimed in their own native languages -- even though the speakers were virtually all from Judea and Galilee.

The believers weren't praying in unknown languages. They were praying in languages that they personally couldn't speak, but the onlookers could. It would be like going to Lisbon and speaking in Portuguese without ever studying a lick of it beforehand.

In other words, this was a reversal of the Babel curse; the purpose of tongues was to unconfuse human language and to make communication easier.

This is also what Paul suggests is the use of tongues when he writes to the church in Corinth. If people come into church and hear you worshiping in a language they don't know, it means nothing to them. But if they hear you worshiping in their own language -- which you don't know -- they stand convicted that God is in the church (1 Corinthians 14:22).

That certainly was the impact of the crowd who heard Peter's sermon early in Acts.

In 1 Corinthians 13, Paul does say, "If I speak in the tongues of men and angels, but have not love, I am only a tinkling cymbal or resounding brass." But one verse in isolation is a poor prooftext for  doctrine, and since every language has idiomatic expressions, I'm inclined to consider "the tongues of men and angels" to be one of those and nothing more until I hear a convincing argument otherwise.

In the meantime, I'm going to keep praying in the human languages that I know. They may not be a direct line from my soul to God, but they're all I've got, and they've worked all right for me so far.


Copyright © 2013 by David Learn, Used with permission.

On the propriety of speaking in tongues

So I have an honest question for anyone who comes across this entry and feels like contributing their  2 cents. Where do you stand on speaking in tongues?

Let me explain.

I spent my first seven or eight years as a Christian as a member of Easton (Pa.) Assembly of God, where we were taught that in the first century it was a standard experience for a new believer to begin speaking in tongues, though not necessarily a universal one. Pastor Mike Poppa did observe that every time a new group of people received the gospel, the writer of Acts made sure to point out that they also began speaking in tongues.

I've met a few Christians who believe you shouldn't serve in ministry unless you've received the Baptism of the Holy Spirit. I'm aware of others who claim you can't be a Christian without it. Neither of those positions is biblical.

The only rules Paul sets out regarding glossalalia pertain to corporate worship, where he favors maintaining order and keeping everyone on the same page. He tells believers not to speak in tongues at all during gatherings, unless they also can interpret; and even then he says to keep the number of messages in tongues to a minimum. "I would rather speak one word that you can all understand than ten thousand words in a tongue none of you will," he says.

As far as private prayer goes, he's content to live and let live, and places no limits on speaking in tongues; in fact he says, "I thank God I speak in tongues more than any of you."

Still, speaking in tongues is a lightning rod of controversy to some groups. I'm curious to hear where others stand. Sound off in the comments.

Ordering pizza in tongues

I don't speak in tongues myself, but I can do a decent job pretending to when I need to.

Back in the 1990s, I was a regular in the children's ministry at Easton Assembly of God, We wrote, performed and produced some of the most ridiculous material ever presented in Sunday school or a children's church service. We're talking original puppet shows with handmade puppets; live-action Bible stories where King David fell to the ground, frothing at the mouth and pretending to be insane; other Bible stories where Lazarus came forth; worship songs with outrageous hand movements, a Bible-quoting superhero and his archnemesis, and on and on.

(As campy as we got, we never reached the level of Duncan the Donut Man, or Psalty the Singing Psalter. We did have standards.)

It all started when we were handed an eight-week stash of puppet skits that taught core Christian doctrines like sin, repentance and forgiveness; the importance of prayer; and even the Second Coming. Because this was an Assemblies of God church, one week the lesson was on the Baptism of the Holy Spirit.

This is a teaching, widely accepted among charismatic and Pentecostal Christians but hotly disputed by John MacArthur, that at some point the individual believer may have an intense experience with the Holy Spirit that leads to the ecstatic utterance in other tongues.

In this particular puppet skit, I was providing the voice for the puppet Robby, who was supposed to get the baptism of the Holy Spirit and start speaking in tongues. The script actually continued scripted nonsense on the level of "Untie my bowtie who stole my Honda," which we all found distasteful, I'd returned from the missions field in Haiti several months earlier, so it was agreed that when Robby began speaking in tongues, I would simply speak in Kreyol.

So, while 30 children watched, Robby prayed to receive the baptism of the Spirit and began rather excitedly to say, "Bonswa. Sa se Robby Callenberg; mwen rete bo 12 Rue Pelerin. Mwen komande un laj pitsa avek pepewoni e fwomaj anpil." ("Good evening, this is Robby Callenberg of 12 Pelerin Road. I would like to order a large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese.")

Todd Seymor, the assistant pastor, was kneeling behind the puppet stage with me. He didn't speak a word of Kreyol, but I guess "large pepperoni pizza" sounds the same in almost any language, Todd smacked me on the shoulder and tried desperately to contain his laughter.

I never did get the nerve to do that during a worship service. Maybe sometime if I don't mind blaspheming the Holy Spirit and going straight to hell ...


Copyright © 2020 by David Learn. Used with permission.


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