As you have seen, the theme of this issue is the “Holy Spirit.” I first began to think seriously about the Holy Spirit during my childhood. The female relatives on my mother's side became Pentecostals after Mom left home to marry Dad. During our occasional weekend visits to Grandma and Grandpa's house we would attend church with Grandma and my aunts.
On my visits, I didn't hear anyone speak in tongues or observe anybody jump over a pew. Perhaps they were tame by Pentecostal standards or maybe the Spirit calmed them so a little Baptist boy didn't get scared to death, I don't know. It was exciting enough when everyone prayed aloud simultaneously. I was sure God could sort it all out, but to me it sounded mighty confusing.
Being Baptist, our preacher baptized people in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. We sang about the Holy Spirit …”Holy Spirit, Breathe on me.” And “Spirit of the Living God, fall fresh on me.” We even gave the Holy Spirit a passing reference in our weekly call to worship: “…. God in three persons, Blessed Trinity.”
Mostly, however, we just talked about Jesus. Not that talking about Jesus is bad, mind you. But in my home church, we read the second chapter of Acts about as often as a Rabbi reads the 53rd chapter of Isaiah in synagogue.
While my college freshman contemporaries were experimenting with drugs, I was experimenting with the Holy Spirit. Two brothers and I visited the home of a professed prophetess. Amid the flicker of candles in an otherwise darkened room, she prayed for us to receive the gift of the Spirit — which in her thinking was synonymous with speaking in tongues.
After her first prayers over me produced no results, she ordered me to take off my shoes and stand on the Bible — which I did. When this, too, failed, she pronounced me obstinate and showed us to the door.
In the Marine Corps, I continued to experiment. I was serious about my faith and I wanted everything God had for me. Toward that end, four other Christian marines and I knelt in the sand on a Japanese beach and prayed to receive the “gift of the Holy Spirit.” Again, no results. One, a Pentecostal, said I had to “prime the pump” by talking gibberish until the Spirit could take over.
Such a notion called to my mind the times I had had to push my old Dodge to get it started. It didn't seem quite right to me that the Spirit's power might depend on my priming so he could start pumping. Still, eager to experience all of what God had for me, I complied, and with practice I became somewhat proficient at making nonsensical sounds.
After a few weeks, during which time my friend continued to encourage me, I set aside the practice. I wanted to be overpowered by a rushing mighty wind. I wanted cloven tongues of fire to consume my resistance and to ignite an inferno in my soul.
To be entirely truthful, however, there were times when, deeply troubled, I found that these utterances, which bypassed conscious thought, effectively expressed what was in my heart. But, I used this less and less frequently until, at length, I ceased the practice altogether.
My attention was next focused on the Holy Spirit, when I resumed college after my time in the service. Bill Pinson challenged students at Glorieta. He said that Baptists had often regarded the Trinity as the Father, the Son and the Apostle Paul. He challenged us to pay attention to the Spirit but cautioned us, saying, “The measure of an experience is not how high you get, but in how straight you walk when you hit the ground.”
With interest in the gifts of the Holy Spirit piqued by my past, while serving as a pastor I chose this topic as my doctor of ministry focus. I set about reading every book I could find that talked about the gifts of the Spirit. I should not have been surprised that the subject evoked much and greatly varied commentary.
I have, in the nearly 25 years since then, continued to be awed by, inspired by, challenged by, compelled by and confused by the Holy Spirit's work. He is like the wind. He blows where he wills — with no apparent regard for my opinions, explanations or systematic theologizing.
Still, by observation and experience I have reached conclusions some of which bear greater resemblance to theories than to axioms.
1. The New Testament church was a charismatic church. Be careful of that word. It is loaded with conflicted meanings. Some churches have so emphasized the Holy Spirit that their people have become Charismaniacs. In contrast, other churches have so feared conflict associated with manifestations of the Spirit that their people have developed Charisphobia.
Paul, and to a lesser extent Peter, emphasized the place of spiritual gifts in the church as the means by which ministries were to be accomplished through individual members. Spiritual gifts are heightened abilities which increase the capacity for ministry. Since the Holy Spirit is the source of these gifts, the church should not fear them. I can find no scriptural evidence for believing that the Spirit no longer gives gifts.
2. God imparts spiritual gifts according to his divine grace; they cannot be earned through human merit. But I have come to believe that God takes into consideration the whole of our personhood: personalities, interests, abilities and past experiences in giving them.
3. A gift of tongues is an actual unlearned language. Missionaries have on occasion reported that words came to them in a language they did not know which enabled them to communicate to other people. A “prayer language” is comprised of utterances that release feelings that defy expression in words.
4. Spiritual gifts are best discovered through ministry and by asking, “If God allowed me to do anything at all, what would I most like to do for him?” It would be easier, of course, if we could simply take a spiritual gifts inventory. I developed one several years ago and thought about marketing it. The problem is, an inventory can measure only what we have already experienced. It cannot predict our effectiveness in things we have never tried. As an indicator, then, an inventory is of limited value.
5. Since no Christian is neglected, every Christian has some kind of effective ministry to contribute to the kingdom of Christ. Even so, exercising love is of greater value than the use of gifts alone. Without love, gifts are merely attention-getters.
6. Although I once thought otherwise, I now believe spiritual gifts can change and that not every gift is mentioned in the various lists (Romans 12, 1 Corinthians 12-14, Ephesians 4, 1 Peter 4). Music, for example, is not listed as a gift yet those who possess this spiritual ability have led me to authentic worship on many occasions.
If Baptist leaders and laity could get over being afraid that things might get out of control, and if Baptists would once again, as in the past, commit themselves wholeheartedly to spiritual purposes, who can imagine what might happen?