Our theme for the month of June is “spirits.”
“Hubbaba le bubu la de da dop de do do hub baba le bop. He bobo de pap te lara be do be dabalbabla. He lulu de blah blub de blee blo,” a paraphrase of me speaking in tongues at age eleven. How exactly did I find myself in this situation? Let’s take a beat.
My entire childhood consisted of attending an Assemblies of God (AG) mega church in the suburbs of Chicago, and the school it housed preschool through eighth grade. If you’re unfamiliar, the AG denomination would be considered a Pentecostal or charismatic tradition.
The AG denomination believes that Acts 19:6, Acts 9:17 and 1 Corinthians 14:18 are clear evidence that “speaking in tongues is the initial physical evidence of being baptized in the Holy Spirit.” For them, it’s not just a spiritual gift but rather a marker of being filled with the Holy Spirit.
It’s not hard to understand why, with this strongly held belief, middle schoolers were encouraged to try their hand at it. It was all I knew so I never really thought about the oddity of it until much later.
Beyond the controversial speaking in tongues, there were things that were very special to me like a very diverse congregation (services not just in Spanish but also various Indian languages and ASL), tear-provoking gospel singers, worship that physically moved people—dancing, hands raised high and swaying, jumping up and down—and professional-quality music production.
I didn’t just grow up with decent worship, I grew up with worship so good people traveled far and wide during Easter and Christmas to experience it themselves. Whatever you’re picturing in your head, times it by three.
One of the bigger culture shocks moving from the suburbs of Chicago to West Michigan (in addition to pronunciation of the word “bagel”) was the rigid, almost awkward worship services. Everyone clapped a little off beat, not a raised arm in sight, and definitely no dramatic body movements like jumping.
Post-college my husband and I explored a lot of churches and while maybe a few slightly broke the aforementioned rules (every once in a while you’d see a hand above the head) most were pretty spot on.
If the dancing in the aisles during the worship I was used to didn’t already do it, the speaking in tongues would certainly push my Reformed friends over the edge.
As I reflected on my middle school experience now as a newly thirty-year-old, I had to wonder if my memory served me correctly. Was I exaggerating? Did they really speak in tongues that often? It turns out, after reaching out to a few dear friends of mine, if anything my memories were downplaying the prevalence.
Although we all remembered it clearly, the reflections on it were divided. A couple held it loosely and thought maybe it was performative but maybe it was real and who are we to decide what God can do? One friend was confident that though the Holy Spirit didn’t gift her with tongues it was real then and is real now. One friend had a very negative reaction citing that it alone was what caused her to question Christianity then and even to this day.
In middle school, I did feel pressured to speak in tongues and I did try to speak in tongues. Even then, as an eleven-year-old, it felt forced, unnatural and didn’t feel like some sort of divine gift from the Holy Spirit. Does my experience negate others’? I’m certainly not comfortable saying it does.
What was originally a funny memory of me babbling at a young age didn’t feel so funny after discussing it with people who had a different experience than me. I can say this experience caused me no lasting harm, but I have friends who can’t.
I did eventually learn that quiet worship wasn’t the absence of passion, but I still wish I could keep the energy of my old church and the body of Christ that felt alive and excited to worship our all-powerful God. I would leave the pressure to speak in tongues, the speaking in tongues from the pulpit, and the indifference to new believers in the church who may feel very uncomfortable.
Julia is a 2018 graduate and studied English literature and business marketing during her time at Calvin. A Chicagoland native, she now resides in Grand Rapids, MI and works as a brand and marketing officer. She spends her free time reading fantasy novels, sweating in her gym’s sauna, renovating her almost 100-year-old house, and crafting according to her current creative fixation.
