A note before we start: this post might sound like I’m being insensitive about certain streams of Christianity and some spiritual practices. Specifically, speaking in tongues.
I’m not making fun, I promise. This is just a story from a youth group event that made me super uncomfortable. That’s all.
When I was in seventh grade, I went to a friend’s youth group.
His church was far more charismatic than mine was. Which is fine. Some of their expressions at church were a little foreign to me, but it was okay.
Except for this one week.
We started youth group by translating Psalm 23 into a more modern retelling. (Something like, “The Lord is my teacher. I will not forget to do my homework.” None of us came up with anything good)
After that, there was some worship music. I’m sure it was fine. And by “fine” I mean “boring.”
Midway through the worship set, the lead youth pastor came forward and said, “Now we’re all going to pray out loud, together, crying out to Jesus.”
He started praying - bellowing is more like it - and the rest of the leaders in turn followed suit. Everyone screaming to God together while the electric guitar player riffed.
We all joined in. Fifty people in a room, simultaneously screaming to God.1
It was weird, but still fine. It was just like prayer at my church, but without taking turns, and much louder.
I hated public speaking at the time, and didn’t want anyone to hear me, so I didn’t yell my prayers. But I joined in the commotion. Just a little quieter than everyone else.
After the God-screaming, the band played a couple more songs.
Then the youth leader came back.
“Now we’re going to pray in tongues.”
I grew up in a quieter, more solemn church. I knew of speaking in tongues, but I’d never seen it done.
Earlier that night in youth group, a couple of the leaders had been speaking (yelling) what sounded to me like gibberish.
I didn’t know what was going on, but they seemed into it, and everyone else seemed into it, so I pretended to be into it too.
The youth leader told us, “Speaking in tongues is a gift that God gives you, but it’s something you have to ask God for.”
“So ask God for this gift, and join us. We’re all going to pray in tongues together.”
I’d never prayed in tongues, and was nervous as hell.
A couple of seconds later, all of the leaders and about half of the youth started praying in tongues. It was chaos. Tons of people shouting non-words at the same time.
Every other youth joined in within about ten seconds. All of my friends. Everyone.
Except for me.
I’d spent the last ten seconds praying that God would give me the gift of speaking in tongues.
God had clearly given the gift to everyone else. Just not me.
I prayed harder.
“God, I want the gift of speaking in tongues” are the words that I prayed. What I actually meant was, “God, I’m the only one who hasn’t gotten this gift yet. What the hell? People are going to notice.”
And notice they did.
After about a minute of me silently praying that God would give me the gift of tongues, the head youth leader came over and stood in front of me.
“Ask God for the gift of tongues. Ask him and he’ll give it to you.”
“I did.”
“Ask him again. You need more faith.”
I prayed harder.
“Ask God for this gift.”
I prayed some more.
Other leaders came over to join the head youth leader.
All of them raised their voices at me. “Pray for the gift of tongues!”
I heard all of my friends speaking non-words. I wanted to speak the non-words.
“Pray for the gift of tongues!”
I kept praying.
I wanted to be a part of what everyone else was doing.
“Pray for the gift of tongues.”
Mostly I wanted the youth leaders to leave me alone.
“Pray for the gift of tongues.”
“PRAY FOR THE GIFT OF TONGUES.”
“PRAY FOR THE GIFT OF TONGUES. DO IT!”
“DO IT! DO IT NOW! PRAY FOR THE GIFT OF TONGUES! DO IT!”
“I am! I am praying!”
“PRAY HARDER! DO IT NOW! PRAY FOR THE GIFT OF TONGUES AND GOD WILL GIVE IT TO YOU!”
“I am praying. God isn’t giving me the gift.”
“PRAY FOR THE GIFT! YOU NEED TO HAVE FAITH!”
“DO IT! DO IT! PRAY FOR THE GIFT! DO IT NOW! PRAY NOW!”
After a solid minute of being yelled at, I said something along the lines of:
schany zykalo gingbadila quinymanio
I just made shit up.
They bought it.
“Praise God for this gift!”
“Thank you God,” I said.
Did I feel good about lying to God and my buddy’s youth leaders? Not really.
But if I hadn’t, I’m pretty sure they’d still be yelling at me today.
Turns out I could have just said Shamala Hamala and they’d leave me alone. I wish I knew that then.
What I’m listening to:
Troubled Times - Fountains of Wayne
I’m surprised I don’t mention a Fountains of Wayne song every week, given how much I listen to them.
If all you know of FoW is “Stacy’s Mom,” go listen to some of their other stuff right now. Maybe start with Utopia Parkway or Welcome Interstate Managers.
This is my favorite FoW song. It’s a gem.
I’m sure God loved it…..
Ugh. I can feel the waves of pressure flowing from each paragraph of this post. I wish this hadn’t happened to you. I’m sorry.