For a while I’ve felt a distance from the Holy Spirit that I can’t explain. My prayer life has been sluggish and this fire in my soul, more often than not, has been more like embers. So headed to camp I felt a little uneasy… I felt out of place and like I would be the only not-weird one. I was going to be around those people who speak in tongues, dance with ribbons, and do crazy charismatic things during worship and in community. Stuff that was just off my grid. I WANTED NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. You could say I had SLIGHT judgment.
Enter Monday night worship. I had assumed my “appropriate” worship stance: feet spread shoulder length a part, hands in my pockets with my thumbs hanging out, eyes closed. As I uncomfortably swayed, my eyes opened and latched onto someone and I knew I had to pray for her. It nagged, but I resisted. It pushed, but I pushed back. Finally, I gave. I mean, it’s just a prayer, yeah?
So I walk over to her, put my hand on her shoulder and start to pray. About halfway through the prayer I can’t think of words. I freeze. But I can’t walk away, the prayer isn’t complete. I search my brain for words. Throw out detached and disinterested phrases. Then it happens. The only sounds that can come to mouth are “gibberish” as a guy I disciple would say. I was praying in tongues. The only intermittent word I understood was Spirit. When I finish, I head back to my chair.
I stop. Great. Now. I’m. That guy.
I think of Romans 8:26, which says “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.”
In other words, people pray in tongues because common language can’t adequately describe their prayer. Their heart’s need for the Father is so deep that the Spirit must speak in a language not constructed by man. They aren’t weird. They aren’t out of touch with reality. They’re heart just deeply desires the Father and the best way to connect, at least then, is through tongues.
More importantly, at least for me, is that this form of prayer and worship is not motivated by man, but by the Spirit. It’s the Spirit closing the gap between God and my longing heart. When I’ve judged people for praying in tongues in the past, it’s not man that I’ve judged, but the Spirit. I’ve judged the role and credibility of the Spirit’s work and ITS longing for the Father as well. The same Spirit that God tethered and trusted with the responsibility of staying on earth when Christ ascended.
So, when I’ve not wanted to be that guy, I’ve really just rejected the Spirit. Yes, the Spirit punched me in the face that night. But in the punch, the Spirit also blew on my fading embers and sparked a fire down in my soul. Once I submitted to this, I saw the Spirit show up in my prayers in ways I haven’t in a long time. It led me to pray in expectation for healing, in anticipation for people’s desires to be met, for God to make men on my team doctors and snipers for the Kingdom. Doctors and snipers for God’s Kingdom! Who prays that?! The Spirit.
