When I speak, sing, or pray in tongues, I yield. I give up on trying, I let the Spirit hush my ego, and I surrender to what is stirring in me. I don’t get to control the narrative. I join creation, the communion of saints, and the Spirit in their intercessions of groans, sighs, and wordless praise. I let myself be a child, nursed by our Mother in heaven. Not always knowing my need, but crying and reaching out in tongues of fire to a faithful Parent, always ready to meet me with love.

Tongues isn’t necessary. It won’t save you. It won’t make you better, or holier. It doesn’t prove that you’re more sanctified, more full of God, or really anything about you other than that you’re a baby. And that is okay. It can be freeing, edifying, good. It liberates us from the curse of Babel and frees us into intimacy with God. It molds us into holy fools. I firmly believe glossolalia, this mystical vocal prayer, is a part of the package of Pentecost. This is a gift the Spirit freely offers to her brood.

Therefore, I’m crying out to all children of God: speak in tongues.

Just give it a try. Tarry, wait – get before God with expectation and let yourself sink into her gaze. And in that space of being held and adored by the God of the universe, trip into praise, into holy babbling. Feel the cries you haven’t been able to cry. The feelings you haven’t been able to touch. The tears God hasn’t been able to shed. Feel surrender take you over. Feel your body. Raise your hands, stomp, do what you need. And let it out. You are heard. Whatever is said is heard, even if you don’t understand. Free yourself from the smallness of language, and speak. This is union with Christ.

Maybe I’m butchering God’s intentions for this charism, but there has to be a reason why Pentecost included both tongues and prophecy, and why these gifts tend to follow the baptism of the Spirit through the Book of Acts. There has to be a reason why Paul saw this is a self-edifying gift, and longed for all to speak in tongues. There has to be a reason why this gift is persistent in church history, touching mystics and revivals. Jubilation, the wordless praise of melodic vowels, was a part of the mass into the ninth century, and was seen as a devotional gift by mystics throughout history.

This gift is good, and simple, and holy. I can testify to this.

If you’re feeling a stirring to speak in tongues, just do it. You don’t need to completely understand the theology behind it, or how exactly “edification” occurs, in order to do it. For those of us who follow Jesus, we weren’t that way with him. We don’t give in to Jesus because the Trinity makes sense, or because we discovered a perfect atonement theory. We gave in because Mystery pulled us, because Love pulled us. At least that’s how it worked with me.

And mystery unfolded in my life, with deeper truth, with the logic of the heart.

So let love pull your mind, heart, and body, your whole person, and do it. Be a fool and speak in tongues. Cave in to that soft place in you, that reckless place, that fiery place, look at God, see her Light consuming you, feel her grace washing over you, and spit out the words, the syllables, the noises. Feel her holding your prayers, knowing and understanding, seeing you fully. I promise you, she is.