And, being
assembled together with them, commanded them that they should not depart
from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father, which, saith
he, ye have heard of me. For John truly baptized with water; but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence. Acts 1:4-5
Here I wish to not delve into the theology of glossolalia — speaking in tongues. I wish to simply relate my experience.
My first encounter with speaking in tongues came to me several years ago. I was then an alcoholic. I drank spirits to receive power which I did not naturally own. There is, in alcohol, very much power, though it is transient, fleeting. That power comes at a terrible cost. It is a destructive power which will ultimately lead to powerlessness.
Many times, when I was in my cups — that is to say, when the deeps had engulfed me — I mean when I was at a most drunken state, tongues would come upon me. I would describe these as dark tongues, most evil sounding — slurring, very much akin to Old High German (the earliest form of the German language, spoken from 500 to 1050). I now, looking back, find it interesting the correlation between this manifestation of language and my later interest in Elder Futhark Runes.
When I was speaking these dark tongues, the people around me would scatter very quickly, which, really, is only to be expected, given it's pretty weird behavior. Once, at work, after a fifth of rye whiskey, I uttered in dark tongues, spoken enthusiastically, to two women working at a kiosk. They became very frightened and called security on me. My boss made an excuse for me, saying Halloween was close. Halloween was several months away. I had no explanation for myself — I simply had given utterance to that which had arisen within myself.
Let us now come to present times. I, by the severe mercies of God, have stopped drinking. My faith has been renewed. To touch upon a bit of theology, I did not do these things — I am incapable of placing faith within myself, or expanding my faith. This was the work of the Holy Spirit, according to the Word of God. Neither could I stop drinking — it came to be simply that I could not drink.
All of my life I have been around people who are Spirit-filled, who would daily utter things in tongues. To be honest, because I was so conditioned to this, I didn't think a lot about it. Because I had not had a need or a hunger for God, I had not a hunger for the gifts of God.
Since I have returned to my faith, or perhaps, since my faith has returned to me — I have turned once again to look upon His Holy Temple, to quote Jonah quoting Psalms from the belly of the fish — and indeed have I been in a fish belly. Anyway, since this turning, I've read many Assembly of God doctrinal books (Myer Pearlman, William W. Menzies — who died this past August, at the very time I was reading his words, George O. Wood — General Superintendent of the Assemblies of God). I have been dumbfounded at my own ignorance pertaining to my own faith. I now, in the full knowledge of what Pentecostalism is, consider myself Pentecostal, if I must be more precise in defining myself than saying that I am a disciple of Christ.
I have also of late read some Calvinist materials, such as John MacArthur, who literally demonizes Charismatics. I'll save responding for a future post. I simply wish to relate that there was an intellectual battle going on, pertaining to the authenticity of behaviors manifesting in churches, and being labeled as the work of the Spirit. I felt in some respects, that I would have to lose my ever-loving mind, whilst listening to music, to receive the Baptism of the Spirit. I can refute John MacArthur, based now upon my own experience, which was not emotionality, nor irrationality.
Wednesday, November 14, 2011. I had not felt good all day. My sinus problem was worsening. I attended the Mens Meeting, had Halsey's excellent chili with study, had very good fellowship with Phil and Joel afterwards, and then came home. I felt drained, no energy, sick. I simply meditated some while in my bed. I thought I would begin another fast. That had seemed to help my sinus problem in the past. I thought of Jennifer, who had related her story of recently being Baptized in the Holy Spirit. For months now, I had been agonizing over Spirit Baptism: "Is it real? Is it for me? I don't think I'll ever get to that place. Some personality types just don't get Spirit-filled."
As I stood beside my bed, a mental image appeared before me of a young man. He was surrounded in a powerful, yet terrible aura, which seemed to crackle and distort with instability. I thought "Oh, God, help him out of that mess. Thank you Lord that that is not what You offer."
I read some, and because I felt so bad, decided to go to bed early. I prayed, as is my custom, and as is more regularly my custom since having read David Jeremiah's excellent book "Prayer: The Great Adventure". I prayed that the Holy Spirit would fill me. I said in my mind, "Lord, you said to ask. Ask, Seek, Knock (Providential acronym). Holy Spirit, I need your strength." These may have not been my exact words, but the meaning is the same. I prayed until unconsciousness came. The next thing I remember is feeling an evil presence in the room. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was there, off to my left, as I lay in my bed. I was in that state which is not sleeping and is not wakefulness — I've been there before, in what I call the twilight zone. I started speaking in tongues. I knew that my speech was directed at that evil presence. Directly above me was a mental image of Jesus on the throne. I knew instinctively to just meditate on Him, to not think about the words that were coming out, the words being directed to the malevolent thing on my left, but to just remain focused on Jesus. I have no idea how long I remained in this state. I continued speaking in tongues until I audibly heard someone yell "Hey! Wake up!". I woke up. My initial thought was that the voice had come from outside the window, positioned on the street, above. I thought it to have been teenagers, out late. I then thought that was strange, because tomorrow was a school day, and it was around 2 am. I thought their words were strange too: "Hey! Wake up!"
These thoughts passed through my head in just the few seconds after it was that I had been awakened. I then thought about what it was that I had been doing before I had awoke. I continued precisely in the manner I had before, whispering in tongues, not thinking about anything but the image of Y'shua on the throne. I was not emotional at all. My mind was perfectly clear and rational. It was as though my speech was as a faucet that had been turned on and left to run. It was not strange at all, because I had experienced such a phenomenon before; too, in my prayers, at rare times in the recent past, I would be shocked that I uttered a phrase or two in tongues.
It suddenly struck me that this was indeed a rather unusual circumstance. I thought, "I need proof that this has happened. I need evidence of the evidence, for later analysis." I grabbed my voice recorder and recorded some 20 minutes of my speaking in tongues. When I first pressed "record" I became somewhat mechanical — I had begun to think about what I was saying. Being conscience of this, I purposely turned my attention to Jesus once again, and off of what was coming out of my mouth. During this time chills hit me a couple of times. I had experienced them before. For those of you that watch those ridiculously unscientific ghost-shows, it's very much like the chills Zach Bagans describes as an indicator that he is in the presence of a spirit. I knew that if I were to pursue that feeling, that those body chills would intensify — what I describe as chills, was more like energy, for lack of a better word. It felt like static electricity, growing, flowing all over one's body. I did not pursue that feeling, preferring, and being amused by the fact that I could think rationally and unemotionally, whilst speaking in tongues. I was very happy and relieved about that fact. Unconsciously, I knew that if I were to pursue those chills, I would end up in a very emotional state.
I then would come to a break in my flow of thought, remember the image of Christ on the throne, pull it up, and would return to meditating upon it. I remembered the evil presence that my speech was directed at, and would consciously direct it to that foul presence, as my speech intensified. I got up to go to the bathroom at one point, all the while continuing to speak in tongues. I went to each room and directed my hand at any dark corner that evil might be hiding in. Several weeks ago, I had had a scene flash in my mind of a little tiny shadow man running across the front of the house outside of my window. It really gave me the creeps. I normally do not have mental images, visions, or whatnot. I don't wish to have them either. I am suspicious of those that do, and here I am, having them, and worse yet, relating them.
I prayed in tongues over Dad, Mom, and Julia, and over myself. That is a bit of a paradoxical statement isn't it? I had no idea what I was saying, nor was I paying much attention to it. I placed intent alongside it. I picture a flowing river, my intent being as a sail cast upon it — just an analogy.
I returned to my bed and continued nonstop in the said manner for two to three hours, before falling back to sleep. I purposely left the faucet running as long as I was conscious, because I recognized it as a gift that had come, and that would, as the fruit of the Spirit — love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control — needs exercising, this gift too would need exercising. It is truly miraculous how this gift came. I believe that the Holy Spirit knew me so intimately, as Pastor said, that He knew the only way he could get my mind off of words was to give me words whilst unconscious. I was in the Holy Spirit's way of giving me what I had ask for, so He simply waited for me to become unconscious. That song comes to my mind...
Upon awaking, I called Pastor to relate my experience. Things should be getting interesting. Over the past year one wall after another has crumbled to the earth before me. My will (I will refrain from arguing with myself as to the doctrinal accuracy of the statement "my will") is to find where God is working and take Him up on the invitation to work with Him. To quote from Blackaby and King, "You come to know God by experience as you obey Him and He accomplishes His work through you."
Praise God! If there is hope for one with such a mind as mine, certainly there is hope for you, reader. Remember the acronym: A.S.K.!
Yours in the Lord,
Aaron DeWeese
Here I wish to not delve into the theology of glossolalia — speaking in tongues. I wish to simply relate my experience.
My first encounter with speaking in tongues came to me several years ago. I was then an alcoholic. I drank spirits to receive power which I did not naturally own. There is, in alcohol, very much power, though it is transient, fleeting. That power comes at a terrible cost. It is a destructive power which will ultimately lead to powerlessness.
Many times, when I was in my cups — that is to say, when the deeps had engulfed me — I mean when I was at a most drunken state, tongues would come upon me. I would describe these as dark tongues, most evil sounding — slurring, very much akin to Old High German (the earliest form of the German language, spoken from 500 to 1050). I now, looking back, find it interesting the correlation between this manifestation of language and my later interest in Elder Futhark Runes.
When I was speaking these dark tongues, the people around me would scatter very quickly, which, really, is only to be expected, given it's pretty weird behavior. Once, at work, after a fifth of rye whiskey, I uttered in dark tongues, spoken enthusiastically, to two women working at a kiosk. They became very frightened and called security on me. My boss made an excuse for me, saying Halloween was close. Halloween was several months away. I had no explanation for myself — I simply had given utterance to that which had arisen within myself.
Let us now come to present times. I, by the severe mercies of God, have stopped drinking. My faith has been renewed. To touch upon a bit of theology, I did not do these things — I am incapable of placing faith within myself, or expanding my faith. This was the work of the Holy Spirit, according to the Word of God. Neither could I stop drinking — it came to be simply that I could not drink.
All of my life I have been around people who are Spirit-filled, who would daily utter things in tongues. To be honest, because I was so conditioned to this, I didn't think a lot about it. Because I had not had a need or a hunger for God, I had not a hunger for the gifts of God.
Since I have returned to my faith, or perhaps, since my faith has returned to me — I have turned once again to look upon His Holy Temple, to quote Jonah quoting Psalms from the belly of the fish — and indeed have I been in a fish belly. Anyway, since this turning, I've read many Assembly of God doctrinal books (Myer Pearlman, William W. Menzies — who died this past August, at the very time I was reading his words, George O. Wood — General Superintendent of the Assemblies of God). I have been dumbfounded at my own ignorance pertaining to my own faith. I now, in the full knowledge of what Pentecostalism is, consider myself Pentecostal, if I must be more precise in defining myself than saying that I am a disciple of Christ.
I have also of late read some Calvinist materials, such as John MacArthur, who literally demonizes Charismatics. I'll save responding for a future post. I simply wish to relate that there was an intellectual battle going on, pertaining to the authenticity of behaviors manifesting in churches, and being labeled as the work of the Spirit. I felt in some respects, that I would have to lose my ever-loving mind, whilst listening to music, to receive the Baptism of the Spirit. I can refute John MacArthur, based now upon my own experience, which was not emotionality, nor irrationality.
Wednesday, November 14, 2011. I had not felt good all day. My sinus problem was worsening. I attended the Mens Meeting, had Halsey's excellent chili with study, had very good fellowship with Phil and Joel afterwards, and then came home. I felt drained, no energy, sick. I simply meditated some while in my bed. I thought I would begin another fast. That had seemed to help my sinus problem in the past. I thought of Jennifer, who had related her story of recently being Baptized in the Holy Spirit. For months now, I had been agonizing over Spirit Baptism: "Is it real? Is it for me? I don't think I'll ever get to that place. Some personality types just don't get Spirit-filled."
As I stood beside my bed, a mental image appeared before me of a young man. He was surrounded in a powerful, yet terrible aura, which seemed to crackle and distort with instability. I thought "Oh, God, help him out of that mess. Thank you Lord that that is not what You offer."
I read some, and because I felt so bad, decided to go to bed early. I prayed, as is my custom, and as is more regularly my custom since having read David Jeremiah's excellent book "Prayer: The Great Adventure". I prayed that the Holy Spirit would fill me. I said in my mind, "Lord, you said to ask. Ask, Seek, Knock (Providential acronym). Holy Spirit, I need your strength." These may have not been my exact words, but the meaning is the same. I prayed until unconsciousness came. The next thing I remember is feeling an evil presence in the room. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was there, off to my left, as I lay in my bed. I was in that state which is not sleeping and is not wakefulness — I've been there before, in what I call the twilight zone. I started speaking in tongues. I knew that my speech was directed at that evil presence. Directly above me was a mental image of Jesus on the throne. I knew instinctively to just meditate on Him, to not think about the words that were coming out, the words being directed to the malevolent thing on my left, but to just remain focused on Jesus. I have no idea how long I remained in this state. I continued speaking in tongues until I audibly heard someone yell "Hey! Wake up!". I woke up. My initial thought was that the voice had come from outside the window, positioned on the street, above. I thought it to have been teenagers, out late. I then thought that was strange, because tomorrow was a school day, and it was around 2 am. I thought their words were strange too: "Hey! Wake up!"
These thoughts passed through my head in just the few seconds after it was that I had been awakened. I then thought about what it was that I had been doing before I had awoke. I continued precisely in the manner I had before, whispering in tongues, not thinking about anything but the image of Y'shua on the throne. I was not emotional at all. My mind was perfectly clear and rational. It was as though my speech was as a faucet that had been turned on and left to run. It was not strange at all, because I had experienced such a phenomenon before; too, in my prayers, at rare times in the recent past, I would be shocked that I uttered a phrase or two in tongues.
It suddenly struck me that this was indeed a rather unusual circumstance. I thought, "I need proof that this has happened. I need evidence of the evidence, for later analysis." I grabbed my voice recorder and recorded some 20 minutes of my speaking in tongues. When I first pressed "record" I became somewhat mechanical — I had begun to think about what I was saying. Being conscience of this, I purposely turned my attention to Jesus once again, and off of what was coming out of my mouth. During this time chills hit me a couple of times. I had experienced them before. For those of you that watch those ridiculously unscientific ghost-shows, it's very much like the chills Zach Bagans describes as an indicator that he is in the presence of a spirit. I knew that if I were to pursue that feeling, that those body chills would intensify — what I describe as chills, was more like energy, for lack of a better word. It felt like static electricity, growing, flowing all over one's body. I did not pursue that feeling, preferring, and being amused by the fact that I could think rationally and unemotionally, whilst speaking in tongues. I was very happy and relieved about that fact. Unconsciously, I knew that if I were to pursue those chills, I would end up in a very emotional state.
I then would come to a break in my flow of thought, remember the image of Christ on the throne, pull it up, and would return to meditating upon it. I remembered the evil presence that my speech was directed at, and would consciously direct it to that foul presence, as my speech intensified. I got up to go to the bathroom at one point, all the while continuing to speak in tongues. I went to each room and directed my hand at any dark corner that evil might be hiding in. Several weeks ago, I had had a scene flash in my mind of a little tiny shadow man running across the front of the house outside of my window. It really gave me the creeps. I normally do not have mental images, visions, or whatnot. I don't wish to have them either. I am suspicious of those that do, and here I am, having them, and worse yet, relating them.
I prayed in tongues over Dad, Mom, and Julia, and over myself. That is a bit of a paradoxical statement isn't it? I had no idea what I was saying, nor was I paying much attention to it. I placed intent alongside it. I picture a flowing river, my intent being as a sail cast upon it — just an analogy.
I returned to my bed and continued nonstop in the said manner for two to three hours, before falling back to sleep. I purposely left the faucet running as long as I was conscious, because I recognized it as a gift that had come, and that would, as the fruit of the Spirit — love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control — needs exercising, this gift too would need exercising. It is truly miraculous how this gift came. I believe that the Holy Spirit knew me so intimately, as Pastor said, that He knew the only way he could get my mind off of words was to give me words whilst unconscious. I was in the Holy Spirit's way of giving me what I had ask for, so He simply waited for me to become unconscious. That song comes to my mind...
Upon awaking, I called Pastor to relate my experience. Things should be getting interesting. Over the past year one wall after another has crumbled to the earth before me. My will (I will refrain from arguing with myself as to the doctrinal accuracy of the statement "my will") is to find where God is working and take Him up on the invitation to work with Him. To quote from Blackaby and King, "You come to know God by experience as you obey Him and He accomplishes His work through you."
Praise God! If there is hope for one with such a mind as mine, certainly there is hope for you, reader. Remember the acronym: A.S.K.!
Yours in the Lord,
Aaron DeWeese
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