i never spoke in tongues

growing up saved

A few years ago, I was answering questions on Instagram and someone asked me if I had ever spoken in tongues. I took a deep breath and confessed : I had never spoken in tongues and I didn’t believe that speaking in tongues was the evidence of being filled with the Holy Spirit.

Unless you’re in the specific denomination I grew up in (or one like it), that probably doesn’t seem that significant to you. The large majority of Christians don’t believe in the “initial evidence of speaking in tongues”.¹ But in my world, that was me openly rejecting a core doctrine. You can’t be licensed in this denomination unless you not only believe that, but have received the gift of tongues. You not only have to believe it and have received it, you have to practice it. Meaning, you have to be actively praying in your prayer language. (For the record, Zach and I were never licensed.)

My dms filled up after my confession. I had a panic attack. I cried. I shook all day. I told Zach, “Do you realize that in the eyes of everyone still a part of (that denomination), I just disqualified my entire ministry?” I felt like I had just told everyone I no longer believed that Jesus was God or something. The messages that came in were a mix of “It’s ok!” and “How long were you lying to everyone?”

And the truth is that I don’t think I ever lied about what I believed. I never held to the belief that speaking in tongues was the only or initial evidence of being filled with the Spirit. (This denomination believes there are two fillings - one at salvation and a second infilling when you receive the gift of speaking in tongues. Speaking in tongues is the evidence that the Holy Spirit has filled you and it’s what qualifies you for public ministry. So essentially, everyone should be able to speak in tongues.) I checked “no” on all the paperwork and job applications that asked that question. I didn’t believe it was the only or initial evidence, but that didn’t stop me from really really wanting it. So yes, I did lie about something.

I lied about having spoken in tongues. I lied to everyone because I’d lied to myself so much that I’d convinced myself that it was true. I didn’t mean to lie. I just really really really wanted it to happen and convinced myself that it had. And here’s how that went down.

I was at a service where a special guest, a famous evangelist, had come to preach. Everyone knew that when this guy showed up, things happened. I was so excited. I was eager. I was ready. I was desperate. At the end of the service, he called us to the altar so that anyone that hadn’t been filled with the Spirit yet, could receive him. I ran to the altar.

As we gathered near the stage, he said, “Repeat after me. ‘untie my bowtie’ good, good. Now say ‘should’ve bought a Honda, but I bought a Kia.’ Now. Say those phrases over and over and over again until your brain goes quiet and the Spirit takes over. It’ll sound like baby talk, but before you know it, you’ll be speaking a holy language. GO! RELEASE!” ²

And so I did. The room exploded in a mix of drums, keyboards, prayer, and shouting. My brain shut down and my prayer language came out. Except, it wasn’t a prayer language. It wasn’t tongues. It was just babbling. I was faking it and I guess I probably knew it even then, but I didn’t want to admit it. I felt like I was finally approved for ministry. Now I could focus on doing the work God had called me to do. Now I was legit.

I became arrogant about my “gift” that wasn’t a gift. I looked down on people who hadn’t received it. Sure, they could be Christians. But they wouldn’t be Holy Spirit empowered ones.

When I talk about the frameworks of my faith that have unraveled or “deconstructed”, this is one of the main things I’m talking about. Not a rejection of orthodox theology or a watering down of core truths, but these fourth, fifth, sixth tier things that are emphasized so heavily that they often carry more weight to us than the Gospel itself. We mix the Gospel up with things we’ve extracted from Scripture, rather than things that are explicitly stated, and it makes living for Christ a lot more complicated than it needs to be.

When I admitted to myself that I’d never actually spoken in tongues, it broke my heart. Absolutely devastated me. I had internalized that validation so much that admitting that I’d never actually done it felt like admitting that my ministry up until that point (30+ years of it) was fraudulent. Even though doctrinally, I didn’t agree that speaking in tongues was the only or initial evidence of the Holy Spirit in a believer’s life, I believed it for me. And to admit it to myself, to my husband, and then to the world, didn’t feel like relief. It felt like shame. A heck of a lot of it.

Most adults who “grew up saved” grew up with a belief system they didn’t come to on their own. It was passed down to them or they absorbed it from their environments. So it’s a good thing when those kids grow up and evaluate what they believe. Just like the Bereans “received the word with eagerness and examined the Scriptures daily to see if these things were so.” (Acts 17:11), so should we! Sometimes we examine and we find things that aren’t so.

But in some faith environments, exploring your faith is a threat to your relationships. You could lose everything. Friendships, job positions, marriages. When you tie your life up tightly with the the doctrines that you share with the people in your life, openly saying you don’t agree with that doctrine anymore unravels more than just the framework. It’s why the pain of church wounds is deeper and more chronic than any other kind of relational pain. Our faith is wrapped up in each other. It’s designed that way. And when you start to look at things differently, it can get relationally messy.

But it can also be really beautiful. Actually, it’s mostly beautiful. Even in the mess of it.

Mercifully, being honest about both my beliefs and my experience opened my life to a different part of the bride of Christ. I had spent most of my life feeling sorry for people in other denominations because they didn’t have what we had. When I accepted that I never actually had the thing that set me apart from everyone else, I started seeing the bride of Christ in a different way. My life stopped being about the people in my church and became about the church. The massive wall I’d allowed to separate me from the rest of Christ’s bride fell down in a humbling, electrifying crash.

And the church did what the church does and loved me, welcomed me, and treated me as family. Some of the same people I had felt sorry for and had arrogantly judged, cleared a place for me at their table, no questions asked. They were just happy I finally felt free enough to sit with them.

There are a few moments in my life when I’ve truly felt the freedom that Christ gives and this was one of the top three. I think I finally get why David ripped off all his clothes and danced before God. When one part of you gets free, the rest wants to follow!

Shedding weighty theology is a good thing. Sometimes we feel like our doctrines keep us safe when they’ve actually put us in chains. The bride of Christ is a dynamic body made up of all kinds of theologies, doctrines, and expressions of faith. It’s always been that way! As the church was first spreading through the Middle East, the only Scripture they had was the Old Testament and the only proof of Christ was the stories passed through people and letters. The letters we have in the New Testament are filled with the words of apostles addressing different teachings and doctrines that were being developed in various churches. That’s what happens when you’re excited and curious about your Creator!

We grow in our faith as our understanding of God grows. It’s never ever a bad thing to try to know Him more. Sometimes, as you’re seeking him, you end up releasing doctrines you used to hold tightly, even while the people you love still hold tight.

We all have our watershed moments. Those moments enrich our faith, they don’t dissolve it. And instead of isolating us further from the bride of Christ, those moments can bring us closer. But we have to be willing to let go of some things to make room for the roots of our faith to grow closer to the heartbeat of Christ. To get closer to knowing him, to knowing his Word, and to be a more accurate reflection of him to the world around us. Even when it is absolutely positively terrifying. Like admitting I never spoke in tongues. And writing this post. It’s scary and it’s good.

To be spiritually sincere and intellectually honest, we have to be willing to be wrong for the sake of knowing God more. And we can be a lot more gracious to the kids who grew up without questions and are now adults exploring their belief system for the first time. It’s a good thing. It might be uncomfortable, but it’s good. Romans 14 is a great chapter to read about this. “Welcome anyone who is weak in faith, but don’t argue about disputed matters.”

Faith is belief in what we don’t see. Is it really a step of faith if we have to be sure we can see where our feet will land before we take a step? Sometimes you just have to step and trust that no matter what, even if you’re wrong, even if your feet slip into the ocean (lookin at you, Peter!), you’re still safe with Jesus. He’s not one to gloat over someone who’s trying to reach him.

As with all the posts in this Growing Up Saved series, this is highly nuanced and part of a longer conversation. I hope it stirs up some thoughts and gives clarity to thoughts you might already be having. Would love to hear, if you feel like sharing.

this is my favorite picture of me from that time in my life. I was arrogant and eager. Thankfully, my eyebrows grew along with my faith.

1. I’m using quotations because that’s the wording of the doctrine, not to be sarcastic or mocking.

2. These things are joked about so much in Christian circles, but yes. This actually happened and it wasn’t the first time or the last time I was in a service that used this method of shutting down the brain with ridiculous receptive phrases in order to open yourself up to a supernatural, metaphysical experience

---

If you didn’t know already, I send extra emails to paid subscribers. You can choose the $5/mo option or pay for a year for $50. I’ll drop the button to upgrade your subscription here, if you’re into it. Either way, I’m so glad you’re here.