New Thoughts (09/01/18-09/08/18)
Concerning Music (09/02/18)
It’s funny. Mention of music comes and goes so swiftly in this passage that it can easily be missed entirely. After all, the discussion is centered on the issue of tongues, and at that, tongues of a form that seems intended to indicate actual language. So, our attention is on spoken word, and the injection of the topic of singing seems just that: an interjection, an aside. If Paul had an editor, that editor might well have advised him to strike that comment. Well, in fairness, Paul did have an editor, and He said ‘let it stand’. We can speculate as to why this was the case. But speculation is inherently risky.
A charismatic believer will almost certainly find this to be a reference to singing in tongues, and yet no such thing is said. A mental connection has been made between acting in the spirit and expressing in tongues, but that is not a necessary connection. It is an assumed one. But, that begins to be an aside to an aside. The fact is, singing is addressed, and the fact is that there is good reason for singing to be addressed, or music more generally, since singing is rarely unaccompanied by music.
I might well have let the whole topic of singing go unremarked were it not for Clarke making observation as to the state of sacred music in his day. He writes, “Here it may not be improper to remark that the spirit and the understanding are seldom united in our congregational singing.” As to how true this is, I suspect it varies rather widely. Indeed, the understanding of what is meant by spirit and understanding in this passage varies widely. I might also suggest that where there is this issue, the effects of it are also quite varied. One constant certainly holds: Musicians tend to pride, as Clarke observes. In fairness, on most any worship team I have served its members are keenly aware of the same issue, and often comment on it. Now, Clarke continues by observing that the devout tend to possess little to no musicality. I don’t think this holds water at all, particularly coming out of a denomination founded by the Wesleys.
And yet, here is Clarke concluding, “Of all the liberal arts surely music is the least useful, however ornamental it may be.” It seems to me that he has entirely missed the greatest utility, as well as the greatest risk inherent in the art of music. Plato recognized it, as one or the other of the commentaries observed in regard to the previous passage. Indeed, music, even apart from any lyric content, conveys a great deal of meaning and emotion. There are passages that can move you to tears without you quite knowing why. There are others which render it all but impossible to remain still, so strong is the urge to release the joyful energy received. Now add words. Nothing so deeply implants those words as to set them in a catchy tune. We have learned this in application to teaching our children. How is it that every last one of us can readily sing the ABC song? It sticks. It sticks because now there is tune attached to word, and somehow this tricks the brain into a readier memorization of the text.
This is not some Western innovation, though. It is more a rediscovery. Look back, for example, at the Psalms. These are all songs. They were intended to be sung and heard sung. Poetry is semi-musical by its very nature, having to it a certain cadence and rhythm that renders it more readily absorbed and retained. Most of us, if we were raised in the church, likely committed Psalm 23 to memory as a child. Most of us can very likely recite it without issue to this day. Or think of the Gloria Patri. Go back to the church of your youth, and at that moment when it is time to stand and sing that old tune, you’re on it. Every word is drawn forth effortlessly from your lips. That is both the power and the danger.
It is a powerful tool that can so lodge the text as to keep it accessible decades hence without further inculcation. It is also a great danger that those words are not only drawn forth effortlessly, but to no real effect. That is to say, we stand, we sing, we sit, but the meaning no longer touches our conscious thought. The Lord’s Prayer suffers the same inherent risk where it is recited weekly. Is it empty ritual, or are we considering the words we give unto our Lord?
Music, like this gift of tongues, can be either a great blessing or an empty gesture. It is not the gift, however, that is to blame if it has become empty. That, I think, is the connective tissue that binds mention of singing to this passage. Barnes observes a similar sense of music’s power, noting that this power is not generally made available to the preacher. When done properly, “The design of sacred music in the worship of God is not only to utter praise, but it is to impress the sentiments which are sung on the heart by the aid of musical sounds and expression more deeply than could otherwise be done.” The preacher, even in the charismatic setting, does not have this advantage. Oh, the charismatic preacher may have the Christian equivalent of mood music to back him up, as his organist or keyboard player wafts swells and washes of sound behind his points of emphasis. But, there being no particular tune to it, it fails of music’s purpose as we have it here. It is not sacred music by this definition. It’s just semi-differentiated sounds.
Now, Barnes also recognizes the potential for sacred music to be misused. What of that music which is not so designed as to impress true godly sentiments on the heart? The aforementioned aural washes fall into that category, I think, having no message. But there are worse things. What of those songs that seek to address the Christian market, but impart half-truths rather than sound biblical Truth? There is cause for the church to be more careful of her choices as concerns the music used for worship. The tune may be catchy, but if the words are devoid of meaning, “the singing might as well be in a foreign language.” It is at best a pointless stirring up of an emotional response. It is at worst implanting invalid, which is to say, false doctrines. That may not be intentional on the part of the one who wrote the song, or of those who performed it. But, if that is the end result, intentions don’t matter all that much.
I suppose it must be said that the same issue applies a thousand-fold to what is heard outside of the category of sacred music. All music has this power, and we are fools to ignore it. As we have gone about our vacation travels this week, I have had many occasions to observe this power of music in action. We visit places to eat and the music playing is largely the music of our teen and young adult years. Every song remains intimately familiar. The words are right there, though we haven’t listened to those songs for ages. The activities of that time return to mind unbidden because they are so firmly connected to the soundtrack that accompanied them. Music has power, and like anything with power, it can be used for good or for ill. Whichever result, we do well to remain mindful that the effects are for a lifetime.
Spirit and Mind (09/03/18)
As we proceed into this passage, two of the things we need to assess and address concern what is meant by spirit. I say two because there are two questions that we have to consider. The first, and perhaps simplest, is what distinguishes spirit and mind in Paul’s view. The second is where he is speaking of his own spirit – whatever is meant by that – and where he speaks of the Holy Spirit – if anywhere.
The key for assessing the first question is verse 14, with all that precedes it. We see the ‘for’, and must recognize a conclusion arising from what came before. We’ve seen the same distinction already, haven’t we? In 1Co 14:2, for example, we learn that the one speaking in tongues speaks mysteries in spirit but no on understands. Understanding and mind are clearly connected ideas in this regard. But if mind is understanding, what is spirit doing in this business of speaking mysteries? Does the speaker not know his own meaning? I suppose that’s possible, but it seems at odds with what is said in between. The instruments mentioned in verses 7-8, for example, are unlikely to produce useful sound unless the musician knows his own intentions. Further, the acceptance in verse 17 that the one thus praying gives thanks well enough suggests his understanding is involved.
On these lines of reasoning Clarke arrives at the idea that spirit, in this case, addresses the speaker’s understanding, and mind addresses the understanding of the hearer. That, however, feels like an unsatisfactory understanding of Paul’s words, and would seem to run a bit counter to the rest of his conversation here. After all, verse 15 seems to be saying he will instead pray with spirit and mind alike. Doesn’t that suggest that his own mind wasn’t involved in the hypothetical example of verse 14? That will depend on how we are to answer the second question.
But, one other view that merits consideration before we look to that question is that offered by Barnes. He suggests that what is meant by spirit here is the will. This gets to the various divisions of man that arise in Scripture, as we find heart and mind, spirit and soul and understanding, spirit and flesh, and so on. Here, the distinction would be between spirit as representing the mind as the seat of affections, emotions, desires, and intentions, and mind as representing the faculties of reasoned consideration. It’s as though he were saying his affections were stirred and it was certainly his desire and intention to worship God, but his mind is disengaged and wandering to other matters. He is, then, a man divided as this situation depicts the case.
This is a familiar enough phenomena isn’t it? We call it daydreaming in other settings. But there, I am not sure even the spirit is engaged. It’s more the case that we are in a situation over which we have no say of any consequence. We must be where we are, but neither heart nor mind are in it. Hopefully, this never describes our condition as we worship the God of all creation!
Barnes brings in a number of passages to back his interpretation of the term here. But there will those who see that we are discussing gifts of the Spirit throughout these chapters and therefore conclude that any mention of spirit that is not specifically identified as belonging to the person must indicate the Holy Spirit. This conclusion is only strengthened by the added ho, the, of verse 15. We have been conditioned, after all, to take any use of ho Pneuma as indicating the Holy Spirit. But, observe that Paul also speaks of ho nous, the mind. That being the case, it doesn’t seem unreasonable to expect that if the mind is his, the spirit is his as well. But, aren’t we discussing speaking in tongues? Isn’t that a gift of the Spirit, one of those charismata things? Well, that is certainly how it is categorized back in chapter 12. Here, however, it’s not as clear as we might think.
The mention of the ‘ungifted’ man in verse 16 certainly suggests we are still considering the gifts. Does that, however, require that we see spirit as the Spirit? This gets back to how we think these gifts operate. If it’s Holy Spirit takeover and man with no control over his tongue in that moment, then it might make sense to suppose that spirit is Spirit. But, that is at odds with the concept of a gift, as well as the later insistence that the prophet has control of his gift. (1Co 14:32 – The spirits of prophets are subject to prophets.) Will is subject to reason? Or have the roles now reversed, and gift is subject to will? It’s amazing, isn’t it, how often questions lead to more questions before we start to get any answers.
What remains of great concern is for us to avoid conflating spirit and Spirit. That is to say, we dare not assume that every unexpected thought or idea that pops into our heads was delivered by the Holy Spirit Express. I may inject a note of humor there, but the issue is serious. We find those who hold to exactly such a belief, and worse yet, those who train others to think this way – if we can still call it thinking. This is an approach utterly devoid of discernment, and supposing they are even partially correct, that the ideas popping up in their minds are of a spiritual source, this view leaves the practitioner open to every lying spirit that happens by. Look. God gave you a brain, and He populated that brain with powers of reasoning. He didn’t do it to serve as a constant temptation to you. He did it because it is good. Thinking things through is good. Having ideas is good and normal and really doesn’t need any added spice of the supernatural to be valuable. Does He give His children thoughts? At some level, yes, this is assuredly the case. He also gives us every breath we take, but it’s a rare bird indeed who feels the need to assert that every breath is a supernatural act.
To claim one’s every thought as Spirit-induced winds up diminishing the glory of the Spirit. Eventually it must, for one’s every thought is not correct. One’s ideas are not always the wisest and best, and even those wonderful moments of serendipitous thought may not turn out to have been so serendipitous as we supposed. We think to have done something wonderful and good, but the reality may be far different, and we may never discover just how wrong we were.
I might take an example from our day yesterday. We were wandering a bunch of antique dealers’ stalls yesterday, and I had in mind to see if there wasn’t a reasonably priced painting of an old ship. Paintings there certainly were, but reasonably priced was at best a relative thing. But, Jan turns up with a painting I had completely missed, not having heard from me that this was what I was looking for per se, and the price was ridiculously reasonable. Now, I don’t recall her attributing this find to the Holy Spirit, but it would have been wholly in character for her to have done so. Was it Him, or was it native curiosity? If it was Him, then I must suppose some Gospel-related purpose to the possession of this painting, which I cannot at present imagine. Likewise, I find it highly unlikely that there is deep spiritual significance to how we have chosen to resurface our driveway, although she will tend to see that differently. I’ve not heard what the significance is expected to be, but she seems rather sure that this is the case.
This just seems like the praying in spirit only issue writ large. Everything’s deeply significant, but nobody knows what the significance may be. There may be intent to glorify God in such a mindset, but there’s no thought. There’s nothing particular to give God glory for. Yes, it’s a fine thing that we can get the yard in useful order, and have a nice driveway, and go on vacations, and so on. Is it some spiritually significant event? If it is, I should think He’d be far more keen on us having some idea of the significance. But, maybe, just maybe, it’s simply us doing what we wanted to do. Maybe, it’s just our spirits.
Let’s try and get back on course, though. What is Paul in fact trying to say to us in these verses? After all, we are looking at the prescription now. The problem has been diagnosed. Here’s what to do. But, Paul, what is it you are telling us to do? Pray with spirit and understanding. Do we then pray in tongues for a bit, and then interpret? That would sort of be in keeping with what came before. Do we perhaps sing the song once in Spanish and then present it again in English? There are occasions when that might be done and remain musical, and there are occasions where such an approach would make sense. But those are occasions, not the day to day activities of church life. And Paul is addressing the day to day activities of church life. He’s addressing the normative case, not the exceptional. Do Church this way. That being the case, and given the syntax of his statement, what we should hear him saying is something like this. “I will pray not only with the spirit, but with spirit and mind both.” It’s a combined activity of spirit and mind. I will accept, as well, that he has his own spirit and mind in view. Yes, the Holy Spirit is active in the act of prayer, but if it’s only Him, then He’s just talking to Himself, and you effectively have nothing to do with it at all.
But, God made man, and He made us with spirit and mind alike. He instructs us to engage both in the act of worship. Meeting the Samaritan woman at the well, he said, “Those who worship God must worship in spirit and truth” (Jn 4:24). It must be earnest. It must also be accurate. To worship the god who isn’t in spirit will not serve. To know the Truth of God but not desire it puts one in the same camp as the demons, which hardly recommends itself. We need both. We need sound doctrine rightly understood and applied. We need lives shaped by God’s Truth, pursuing Him for who He truly is, not the Sugar-Daddy of our vainest imaginations, not the doting permissive parent we wanted as children, not the all Love, no Wrath god so popular with our peers. No. We need to know God in full, as He has revealed Himself to us in full. We don’t need to add all sorts of Hollywood special effects to our imagined sense of who He is. We don’t need everything new every morning. His mercies are new every morning, and that is already more than enough. But, He is holy. He gets to define what is appropriate in His worship. He gets to inform us how to pray and how to sing. We are in no position to challenge His rulings.
Worship, then, is to involve our spirit. We are expected to be emotionally engaged in the act, for to worship is to adore, and to adore is a wholesale involvement of the emotions. But, we are to worship the God Who Is. We are to worship the Truth of Who He Is. We cannot do that with thought processes shut down and put into sleep mode. We cannot do this by refashioning Him after our preferred image. We cannot worship in Truth if we have dressed Him up in our own expectations. It is we who stand in constant need of being reformed and remade after His image.
Prayer Private and Public (09/04/18)
The point Paul makes is that one operating in spirit alone is not in fact giving God his all. He can’t be. This, of course, assumes that mind and spirit both refer to the individual who is praying, which I find a safe assumption. If mind isn’t in it, then it’s not your all. I suppose we can make the same argument for hands and knees, but that’s not the subject matter before us. The call to be mentally engaged in worship is everywhere. The call to be emotionally involved in worship is likewise everywhere. Our natural inclinations likely incline to one or the other, but our natural inclinations are not the standard established for worship. We must discipline ourselves to keep both fully engaged, else our worship is no longer according to God’s instruction.
Now, another point arises, which I think I have already touched upon. If we are praying in spirit alone, and we take the step of supposing that this must mean we are praying in the Spirit, we wind up with an even bigger problem, because we are not in fact worshiping at all. No part of us is involved. We are become passive vessels moved by a being in the act of worshiping himself. Whatever that might say about said being, it says nothing about us. We have not been used mightily, as the phrase tends to go. We have not been blessed, we’ve been possessed. Everything about this seems to me to be very, very wrong. It speaks poorly of God’s character and it speaks poorly of us that we might construe this to be somehow a good thing.
So, then, let us accept this much as certain as concerns Paul’s point. He is addressing prayer in which the one praying takes an active role of some sort. The question remains, however, as to whether public prayer, private prayer, or both forms are being considered. Calvin suggests to us that at least in the first two verses here it is private, individual prayer that is in view. That would certainly preclude us from supposing that understanding, or mind, applies to somebody other than the one praying. I.e. we cannot quite take the view that spirit is the speaker’s understanding, and mind the hearer’s. If Calvin is correct, then what we have here is speaker as sole hearer, which would leave the same person’s understanding both active and unfruitful in its disengagement at the same time, and that simply cannot be. The laws of logic disallow such a conclusion.
I have to say, I don’t find Calvin’s argument terribly convincing. He really doesn’t offer much to support it other than his say so, but it would seem to me that such a reading leaves us with Paul suddenly veering off course in his discussion of gathered worship. There’s this sudden interjection of the personal act in the midst of the corporate discussion, and such an interjection just doesn’t seem to me to be in keeping with Paul’s style.
That said, he makes a significant observation as he considers things in this light. If in fact this is individual prayer then there can be no question that the individual is shown with mind and spirit disjoined. This, he suggests, must be taken as a pure hypothetical, for while they are shown as disjoined, they cannot in fact be so disjoined, at least not in any normal case. What he describes then is an aberration, a disorder. It is a spiritual disorder, for the disorder is applied to the act of worship. Now, I’m not sure I could agree with him that it cannot happen. In point of fact, I’m not sure he’s really trying to make that case. Rather, he makes the case that this is abnormal. It is not the design. For our part, we can at minimum accept that it is most unwise. To leave the mind disjoined from spirit, from will, smacks of that odd practice of Eastern mysticism in which the participant seeks to empty himself of thought. The pseudo-Christian application of this suggests that this somehow frees the Spirit to do His work.
This goes right to the practices of those who think to somehow train you into speaking in tongues. I will once again observe that this rather defies the whole idea of gift, but there it is. Even in the AG, when I was first come to faith, this was the way of it. Empty your thoughts. Stop trying to drive your tongue and let this other thing do it. I suppose that’s at least marginally better than the idea of deliberately repeating nonsense syllables mantra-like until something mystical happens and your nonsense becomes supposed speech. Honestly, I don’t think this is much different than primal scream therapy other than, perhaps, the volume employed. What it’s not is the Holy Spirit. It is at least as likely, and I would argue far more likely an opening up of oneself to all manner of false spirits. If you are not actively involved in what your tongue is doing, and have no idea what it might be saying, then who knows what has been spoken and by what spirit? You don’t. And claims of, “I checked my heart, it’s the Spirit” don’t cut it. You’ve checked nothing beyond your own wishful thinking.
But, let us, for the sake of argument, suppose you are right, and it is in fact the Holy Spirit, in spite of all that would appear to be wrong with how you think it works. What has happened? First off, as I said, I find no cause to follow Calvin in thinking we have private prayer in view. I am quite convinced it is public start to finish in this chapter, and in fact, in the letter in full. It is, then, public prayer, prayer offered in the course of gathered worship, acting as representative of the congregation. This is what is supposed to be happening. That is clear from the question of how anybody could give the ‘amen’ to what they could not understand. More on that later, I think. But, if there is somebody to say amen, then there is somebody present besides the one praying. He, we should readily assume, is in agreement with his own words, assuming he understands the meaning of them – and that they actually have meaning. But, as a representative prayer, how can they agree who cannot identify the content? What has happened? What was supposed to be public worship has been made private worship, as Barnes observes. Now, there is nothing wrong with private worship, but private worship is, by its nature, intended to be observed in private. Public worship is intended to be a shared experience. It is worshipful fellowship.
I have to observe that this must impact how I approach the simple prayers of thanksgiving over the meal. I have a tendency to resent being asked to repeat because I was not heard. My defense, which is no defense, just so we’re clear, has been to say that I’m not praying to them; I’m praying to God. But, that misses the nature of the thing. It is in fact public prayer, even though the public is limited to the two of us. It is supposed to be prayer with which the hearer is as actively engaged as the speaker, and to which the hearer can in fact give his or her assent. If the prayer is not of such a nature, then whether it is understood or not, it is no longer public prayer. It is private prayer in a public setting, and as such, it is also an aberration to be avoided, not a practice to be followed.
Let us, then, take care that those acts of worship which we undertake in a public setting are undertaken in such a way that the public can be active participants, spirit and understanding mutually engaged. Let us worship in such a way that all who are with us can, with good reason, give the amen.
A Real Gift (09/05/18)
Let me be very clear on one matter, because I can often come off as one who entirely discounts the validity of the gifts discussed in this book. Those gifts are real. They were real in Corinth (and perhaps elsewhere) then, and they are real now. While I can understand and respect the concerns and considerations of those with a cessationist viewpoint, I cannot convince myself from Scripture that there is just cause to hold that view. I may perhaps be driven by past experience; no doubt, I am in fact thus driven, as are we all. But, experience does not determine truth. Neither does doubt or deepest concern for possible implications.
That being said, what is practiced as being the real gift often is not. What is understood as being the gift is not always understood rightly. I am quite certain that in my experience I have encountered much that was counterfeit in what was claimed as being the gifts in action. I am quite certain that much of what I have seen in practice has come almost entirely unglued from any Scriptural mooring beyond the phrase ‘gift of the spirit’. But, I am also quite content to accept that a portion of what I have encountered was the true exercising of these gifts. I would like to believe that some portion of those exercises were also valid exercises.
You see, we have many issues that disrupt our understanding of these gifts, one really. It’s sin. Sin causes us to so desire these gifts that, like the Corinthians, it becomes more a lust than a godly desire. We must have them, and so we take the matter into our own hands, just like Abraham with the promise of an heir. God said it, it must be true. But, it hasn’t happened, so I must do something. The first half of that reasoning is entirely valid and accurate. The second half, however, is just as entirely invalid and inaccurate. What God has not chosen to do, you cannot do. You may produce a counterfeit act, but you cannot, in your own will and power, produce the real thing.
As the editor of Calvin’s commentary on this book observes, both the gift and the presence of the Spirit in its operation are real. Where things are often misunderstood is that those inclined to exercise the gifts suppose this exercise requires their effective absence. That is, to pray with the Spirit, one must get their own thoughts out of the way. It’s the super-spiritualized translation of the popular bumper sticker motto, “Let go and let God.” Sounds lovely and pious, doesn’t it? But, it’s entirely wrong. Let God, absolutely! And, if His counsel and His activity runs counter to your inclinations, those inclinations need to change. But, that’s not letting go. That’s repenting. That’s changing course, allowing the Spirit His direction, but with mind still fully engaged. In this way, the gifts are powerful to edify both self and others as they are designed to do. As an exercise of mindless, other-directed activity, the result is of no true use to anybody. Nobody else observes anything edifying. They just see a goofball on display. The practitioner is not benefited by it, indeed is more likely harmed by it, as false doctrines take hold and a piety as false as that of the Pharisees becomes their idea of holiness.
The gifts are real, but they were never given to be a distraction. They were given to serve, to edify, to further the purposes of the love of God. Thus, the exercise of the gifts is not, even with all excesses of Corinthian and Charismatic alike, an ungodly activity. I suppose I must qualify that by observing that this point holds only so far as it is the exercise of the real gifts. The problem with counterfeits is a real problem, and one the Church is insufficiently inclined to address. The answer tends to be one of extremes. Either the specific church simply accepts every appearance of spiritual activity as valid evidence of the Holy Spirit working amongst them, or the specific church rejects any appearance of such activity, either for fear that it might be a counterfeit, or on the grounds that it must be. But, neither of these is the course Paul advises, is it? No, his addressing of the issue here makes it clear that it’s not an issue of counterfeit gifts that he’s concerned with, it’s an issue of undisciplined use of those gifts. Or, we might say, it’s the abuse of the real gifts by sinful man, which has always been an issue and no doubt always will be.
Here is the other piece of our problem, and here I think particularly of the Charismatic movement and its Pentecostal cousins. There is a tendency, as concerns this gift of tongues, to suppose that it encompasses more than mere human language. This is, however, an assumption. I don’t know of a single place in all of Scripture where this gift, or its approximation in the Old Testament, is clearly declared to be a matter of heavenly language. I know, we have Paul’s comment back in the last chapter. “If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels…” (1Co 13:1). But, the evidence that this is a hypothetical exaggeration of the real gift is pretty solid, just as no prophet ever knows ‘all mysteries and all knowledge’, as per the next verse. These are rhetorical points, pushing the known, real gift to an absurd and impossible extreme in order to make his point.
Others will point to the description of Saul prophesying as evidence that the OT prophets had such a gift on occasion. But, that assumes that what is happening in that case is an ecstatic experience akin to what we understand was happening amongst the Greek oracles of Delphi and other like pagan practices. Does that really seem that likely? Does God demonstrate His holiness by mimicking the counterfeits? Or, is it not far more likely that the counterfeits seek to mimic the reality of God’s gifts by their fakeries? Clarke observed this passage, and recognized that there is a greater probability that what was the singing of psalms, rather like the activity mentioned by Paul here, singing psalms in the spirit and with understanding. We assume an ecstatic loss of control, but nothing of the kind is necessary to the narrative of 1Samuel 10. Indeed, that they were accompanying their prophesying voices with instrumentation suggests a known melody, accompanied by known words. It’s our presuppositions that tend to lead us to read the matter differently.
Consider, though, the situation in Corinth. More than any of the other cities we encounter through Paul’s letters, this one was cosmopolitan in the extreme. Ephesus may have been similar as port city on a major trade route, and some of the northern cities of Israel would likewise have been visited by many nationalities in pursuit of the trade routes passing through that tiny nation. But, in Corinth, this situation in spades, with two major ports, the games held north of town, and the temples and merchants in residence. Everywhere you turned your ear there were other languages being spoken. We observed something of this last week in places like Newport, Rhode Island and Stonington, Connecticut. Both of these are port towns and centers attracting the vacation crowd. In both you find a bit of a mixed presence in terms of the general populace, Stonington, for example, having a longstanding Portuguese presence in its fishing industry. Then, too, there are the various Hispanic peoples come to work the service jobs of the present-day hospitality industry. Add to this the tourists coming from Europe and Asia, and it doesn’t take long at all before you find yourself having a Corinthian experience. So much is being said around you, and so little can be understood. So many people are milling about you, but so few can understand your words, should you speak to them.
For a church as seriously evangelistic as the early church was in such a place as Corinth, a real gift of real language would be a huge boon. How better to reach these people than to be able to speak to them directly in their own tongue without the interruption of an interpreter? Even today, our missionaries often go out in need of an interpreter to address those they would reach. This is particularly the case with short-term missions. But, if you intend to go out and live amongst the unreached, a gift for speaking their language is no longer a handy bonus. It’s a necessity.
For Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles, this was very much a necessity. Consider the various places he traveled. There may have been the common language of Koine Greek imposed by the Romans, but this was primarily a language of commerce. Even with this common language available for writing and speaking, it would be that much more valuable to be able to speak to the locals in their own language. It removes the need for interpretation, at least if both parties speak it. So, when Paul says he speaks in ‘more tongues than you all’, don’t suppose that he means he speaks in tongues more often than them all. It is a more sensible reading of the thing to recognize he simply means he has the capacity to speak and understand more languages than all of those which were known to various individuals in the church of Corinth.
To what degree these were the result of education and experience, and to what degree they were the result of a miraculous gift of the Spirit we cannot say, as Clarke observes. It may well be that Paul’s ability with languages was almost entirely the result of spiritual gifting. But then he was a native of Cilicia, so he would have had some capacity for the local language in Galatia and Ephesus, I should think, with or without such a gifting. Add to this his tendency to know the culture as well as the language. Yes, it’s possible that all that knowledge was gained by direct injection, as it were. But, Paul was a student and a very good one. That is evident from his rhetorical skills. It is evident from his acceptance into the Rabbinical schools. This, too, is a gift, to be sure, although not one generally accounted amongst the charismata. But, yes, there is an entirely valid point to be kept in mind: Whatever talents we possess we in fact have from God. Yet, I don’t think any of us construe the charismata as being so widely inclusive.
To expand the meaning of that term to encompass every talent and capacity amongst mankind would tend to reduce the term to meaninglessness, much like accounting every little moment of the day as a miracle. It sounds nice, I suppose, but it removes all meaning from the term. When the miraculous becomes the ordinary, as some want to see things unfold, it is not the ordinary that is eliminated, but the miraculous. It is become ordinary because we have so watered down the definition as to remove the category entirely. It’s not unlike the overuse of charges of racism and sexism today. It used to be that such charges should make us cringe, and if they are true, then they still should. But, more often than not, the grounds set forward for such charges today are so patently absurd, and so frequently made, that the charges simply mean, “I don’t like your opinion.” That’s fine, but that doesn’t render my opinion a crime. Calling every little charming event a miracle does not reflect the real situation. What has been observed remains in the normal unfolding of the created order. It is not a usurpation of that unfolding for some Gospel purpose on God’s part. It is simply you enjoying the moment. Enjoy! But, let’s not devalue the truly miraculous by our description of it. So, too, with the charismata. Yes, every skill you possess is God-given. He created you, after all, and imbued you with those skills and talents He deemed good for you, and necessary to your purpose. But, they are not all charismata, I don’t think. After all, the reprobate shares the same sorts of skills and talents to no spiritual benefit. They are not, at that point, gifts of grace, are they? It’s worth considering at least.
A Real Abuse? (09/06/18)
Now, if Calvin is correct, then what is proposed by Paul here is a pure hypothetical – the division of spirit from mind. Would that it were so! Only, there seems far too much evidence in our day of those whose minds and spirits are entirely disconnected, and quite willfully so. It is another symptom of that disease of spirit which has so many in a state of mind which requires them to ignore what they know to hold on to what they choose to believe – cognitive dissonance. We might call this variant spiritual dissonance: I’m sure it’s worship, but I’ve no idea what I’m doing or saying.
This is, at the very least, the first abuse. Calvin ties it back to the previous verses, suggesting that where this happens (a thing, recall, that he doesn’t suppose truly possible), the speaker has become a barbarian to himself, because he no longer understands himself. This is, I think, the greatest issue with modern conceptions of speaking in tongues – the idea that what one speaks one does not actually know or understand. If this is the case, then to suppose the gift would even be given apart from the presence of one to interpret seems rather an odd supposition. What would be the point? Or, as Calvin sets the matter, what is the use of such babbling? It can’t profit anybody else, certainly, because they’ve no clue what you said. If you don’t know either, then this really has become an entirely pointless enterprise.
If this is the case, there’s another question that needs to be asked, although I think the answer becomes self-evident. If nobody understands and nobody profits, why use tongues? Barnes’ answer: “Its only use would be mere display.” This has been a problem with the Corinthian state of mind all along, hasn’t it? Everything was about the display, and actions gave evidence that much of the display was false to the inner reality – hypocrisy in truest form. It was, for too many, all an act. Paul’s correction is clear: Better to speak so as to be understood by all.
Now, up to this point, we might still consider, as Calvin does, that what is being discussed is private prayer. But, what if it isn’t? What if he’s still on the topic of the leading of public prayer in the setting of the gathered church? This seems to me the more likely case. Well, if this is where you are praying and this is how you are praying then even if you understand your message but for some odd reason cannot speak it in your own language what has happened is that you have rendered the public worship private. That is to say, you have destroyed the whole intent of public worship. Matthew Henry makes this point in regard to the lack of edification, for edification is the intent. But, I would have to say it’s worse, still, for you are also destroying the fellowship that should adhere to public worship. We are a communion – a coming together of the called out. We are family. To sit at the family table and mutter private thoughts to oneself, shutting everybody else out, would be a clear failure of manners. It would likely wind up severing familial ties if made a habit. Nobody wants to be around one who is so selfishly self-involved. It’s no better in the setting of the church family.
As I have previously observed, this abuse of the gifts is not just unfruitful. We might call it anti-fruitful. How so, you ask? Well, your insistence on exercising your gift inappropriately serves to distract, not to edify. If you are a distraction, you are assuredly not edifying. Worse yet, you serve to disturb others in their appropriate efforts at edification. Consider the case of singing praises. The worship team has chosen these particular songs because they serve to edify. They impart truths to the soul, and at least as we seek to operate in our church, to impart truths connected to the sermon to come. It is not just mood music. It is music with purpose. For many singing those songs, there is conscious effort to imbibe those truths. It may not seem so to you, for they may be simultaneously seeking to remain tuneful in their contribution to the song. They may even be silent and still. What is that to you? If their Master is speaking to them through that song in a fashion that doesn’t display the same levels of excitement and physicality as you are inclined to display, does that render their worship less real? It just might render it more real. Now, if you then jump in with your excited shouts and limbs waving in the faces of those around you, has that increased or decreased edification? You may be getting your freak on, and you may feel all sorts of spiritual thrills and chills at your righteous display, but is it righteous, or is it the flesh rising up? Feelings of elation don’t answer the question, for feelings lie. The right answer is found in this: Did it edify my neighbor or distract them from their own act of worship?
Now, you might argue that you are just as distracted by their solemn approach. How can they be so dour in the presence of so great a God? Well, we must first discern whether you have correctly interpreted their state. And, in that work, I am afraid we would have to remain mindful that neither you nor I can judge the inward being of another. We can rarely manage it with our own inward state! Add to this the call to remain charitable. Remember that last chapter? Love thinks the best, unless absolutely forced to concede evil intent.
But, let us understand this. What’s going on with tongues in this example of erroneous action is not something gone wrong with tongues. It’s something wrong with the one taking such an action. The gift remains perfectly acceptable when used rightly – in the right situation and for the right purposes. The problem is not the gift, it’s the practice. The problem, as ever, is us – us in our continued sinful state. That state does continue, however much we may desire to deny it. Denying it is counterproductive and even dangerous. “If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves, and the truth is not in us” (1Jn 1:8). I’m not sure we do any much better when we insist that we keep short accounts. It is assuredly well that we do so, I’m just not entirely convinced we have the slightest clue as to the extent of our accounts. To suppose we have kept them short, I fear, leaves us failing to grasp the true scope of our need – our continued need – for our Savior.
Fellowship and Agreement (09/07/18)
Of all the issues, it seems that breech of fellowship is foremost in Paul’s mind, and that suggests that it should be foremost in our own thinking. That he is addressing public prayer, or prayer in the course of gathered worship, is clear from his concern about the rest saying ‘Amen’ to your prayer. “Amen” is a declaration of hearty agreement. Honestly, it’s much stronger than that. We hear Jesus saying “Amen”, when He says, “Verily, verily,” or, “Truly, truly.” It is, in fact, “Amen, amen.” This, He is saying, is an utterly trustworthy thing you are about to hear. Pay attention. Now, Jesus could affirm His words in advance. In this matter of public prayer, the saying of “Amen” is not intended to be a thoughtless, emotional reaction. It is the considered response of one who has paid heed to the prayer, and signifies a signing on to what has been said. It trends more towards, “So be it.” Or, if you prefer your Star Trek – The Next Generation form, “Make it so,” albeit with the voice of command replaced by one of earnest supplication.
Notice Paul’s point. How can they say “Amen” if they don’t have a clue what you prayed? Let me take the matter of tongues out of the picture and ask the question again. How can we say “Amen” to a prayer we have not really been paying attention to? If we’ve been off in our own little world, maybe thinking about what we would pray in our own turn, or perhaps contemplating what’s up for lunch, what business do we have offering our concurrence? If all we’ve got is a bit of emotional excitement because the prayer was particularly stirring in its delivery, but have not actually considered whether the content was a valid expression of godly concerns, again, how dare we add our ratification to it?
Understand that there is absolutely a covenantal aspect to this matter of saying amen. Think back to that section of Deuteronomy that the JFB brought forward. What is going on in that passage? It’s a covenant sealing ceremony. Moses, at least in the specific verses that the JFB considered, is laying out the curses associated with breech of covenant. Here are all the things you are not to do, and if you do, the curses fall upon you for doing so. And at each mention, the people respond, “Amen! So be it!” Now, those are heady words, if they in fact recognized their situation, and I think they did. They are also deadly. They were, I suspect, on a bit of a spiritual high, and as such, were in that state of mind that supposes they shall remain perfectly obedient throughout their lives from this day forward. I think we’ve all experienced those moments. But, with maturity, we discover those moments don’t last all the days of our lives. If we’re lucky, they last the day. So, then, to have signed the contract, as it were, by that “Amen” they were effectively signing their death warrants. We are bound to fail, and the curses will be entirely just when they fall upon us. We concur. Yikes!
Listen! That same degree of seriousness applies when we feel the urge to shout out an amen today, or even when we only shout inwardly. After all, it’s not really the vocalization of the concurrence that makes it binding. It’s the mental assent. But, what if our assent has been given to a falsehood, or to something utterly contrary to God’s purposes? Do we not, in that case, incur the same guilt as the one who spoke the words with which we have offered agreement? Prayer is, in this sense, a covenant matter. Honestly, I don’t think it can be otherwise. You are in discussions with God. He is your superior, your Lord and Master. You are a supplicant, a far lesser being under His sworn protection. But, you are under His sworn protection as one who has sworn allegiance and obedience – an allegiance and obedience that you are no more capable of maintaining on your own than were those Israelites listening to Moses list the rules.
You come, then, with requests. If you are wise, you come, as well, with thanksgiving for all that He has done already. Indeed, with understanding, we come with thanksgiving for things as yet unseen, knowing that our Lord is faithful. He has given us His word, and unlike us, He does not fail to fulfill His word. We may come with false understandings as to what has been promised, but what He has truly promised, He will truly do. There is a proper place to say, “Amen!” But, don’t just toss your amen out there like some ritual response to prayer being at an end. If you can’t agree, and sign on to all that has been said, better to be still, at the very least. Whether it would be appropriate to go a step further and offer correction where you have found error is a larger question, and I think depends on whether that correction can be heard unto edification or not.
But, know this: Your ‘amen’, however thoughtfully or thoughtlessly given, is just as serious a matter. It is a covenantal matter. And the prayer to which you were supposedly giving your assent is not something to be enjoyed vicariously. It is a matter for active, purposeful participation. That is the point of public prayer. It’s not just to fill the air time so that the service is of proper length. It’s not even a matter of making sure everybody’s aware of the needs of their fellow members or their missionaries. It is a calling out to God, led by one voice, to be sure, but to be actively joined with by those who hear. That doesn’t mean we all start giving voice to prayers at once. It does mean that we are actively, mentally engaged with what is being prayed, and at least so far as the prayer continues to be about things we can agree to, we give mental, and possibly verbal assent to what is prayed. We effectively pray along with whoever is praying, just as when we sing along with what the lead worshipers are singing.
The vocal ‘amen’ may or may not be something to be expected, but it shouldn’t come as a surprise to us. If the Truth is being spoken, if the prayers are true to the purposes of God and truly reflect our own desires and thanksgivings, then why shouldn’t we offer a vocal ‘amen’ in response? This is not to say we should toss one out after every separate clause of the prayer, so as to become a distraction, but certainly a note of cumulative concurrence at the end is appropriate. Just recognize the seriousness of that moment. It’s not the time or place for an excited response of pure emotion. It’s not the appropriate response to a preacher happening to touch on a favorite point or application. It’s a covenantal agreement. So be it, and so be it done to me. It should be entered into with all the seriousness and reverence that we see in Abraham when he is called to enter into covenant with the living God.
But, to come a bit nearer the significance of this passage, recognize that if your amen is not to be given where there is not in fact hearty and reasoned agreement, it assuredly ought not to be given where you can’t even discern what was just said. That’s the issue with this idea of praying in tongues. If you don’t know the lingo, how can you assess the truth? With what are you agreeing? You don’t know. If you don’t know, how can you agree? How is your ‘amen’, should it be given, any more meaningful than an incoherent grunt? It isn’t. That’s the problem. You’ve taken a serious, covenantal matter and turned it into an empty, ritualistic display. That never goes over well with God.
So, then, reserve your amen for that which is understood, recognized as proper reflection of God’s Truth and/or properly motivated request to Him, and entirely consisting in things with which you would willingly risk yourself by signing onto the prayer.
Thus far, I have been primarily concerned with the response. Now, let me turn to the matter of that one who prays. Here, I return to the issue of fellowship. To pray in tongues, as noted in the previous portion of this study, is to turn public worship into a private affair. It is to disunite from the body. Yes, it is that severe. It is effectively to stand up and say, “I’m not part of you.” At least in that moment, you have separated yourself, declared yourself not of the body, with all that this entails. You are the hand saying to the head, “I have no need of you.” That is never a wise place to be, nor good.
The purpose of public prayer is to unite us in our thoughts and desires. But, as Calvin observes, “there is no fellowship in prayer, unless when all with one mind unite in the same desires. The same remark applies to blessing, or giving thanks to God.” If we do not understand, we can’t share the thought. If the desires are suspect, we ought not to unite. If the prayer is divisive, how shall we remain one?
Paul’s Answer (09/08/18)
It’s interesting. Even this morning, as I read the passage in the CEV, I see this desire to have it both ways, as it were. “There are times when I should pray with my spirit, and times when I should pray with my mind.” Certainly, there are many who choose such an understanding of the passage, but in fairness, nothing in the passage promotes that idea. It is not either / or. It is both /and: With spirit and mind also. Nowhere is there a call to be a passive participant in worship. It is ever and always active participation. Nowhere is there a call to just ‘make a Holy Ghost noise’. Rather, we are warned by our Lord Jesus Himself not to pour out empty words like the pagans do. God is not slow. He doesn’t need a torrent of noise from us to get His attention before we get to the point. No. Jesus is clear on this. Pray like you know He’ll answer. Better, pray like you know He’s already arranged the answer.
“When you are praying, do not use meaningless repetition, as the Gentiles do, for they suppose they will be heard for their many words. Therefore do not be like them; for your Father knows what you need, before you ask Him” (Mt 6:7-8). But, what else can be said to be happening if you pray in tongues, not knowing what you say, and having none to interpret so that you may know? Whether there is repetition, who could say, but in effect, you are assuredly praying meaningless words. No. Paul’s answer is not to bounce back and forth, understanding sometimes, having no clue at others, but feeling really good about it. It is both. Understanding what you are saying does not in any way require that the Spirit is uninvolved. What nonsense!
Pray with spirit and understanding, or don’t pray at all. I think that’s nearer the correct understanding, particularly as applied to public prayer. Worship is to involve spirit and mind alike, that we may be a people who worship in spirit and truth. Such worship requires discipline. That’s probably why we don’t like to hear it very much. We like our undisciplined ways. We want our freedom to do as we please. We want to be a law unto ourselves, and decide how we shall worship God. But, God is God, not us. He has determined and decreed how His worship is to go. Ours is not to innovate, but to obey. Ours is to submit – spirit and mind, body, and soul, head to toe, however you choose to define the fullness of being – to Him.
Now, I want us to see the full force of Paul’s conclusion here. It might read as if he were just expressing a preference. If it were up to me, I’d do it this way, or, I’d rather do it this way than that way. But this downplays the intensity of his expression. As the JFB points out, the sense is that Paul would WISH to speak five useful words, and Paul would NOT wish at all to speak ten thousand words in an unknown tongue. Not interested. It doesn’t serve the purpose. It doesn’t edify. Therefore, I don’t want to do it and I don’t want it done.
Notice, as well, his goal here: To instruct. This is catechism, teaching doctrine. That’s the actual term employed, as much as it has fallen out of favor, kateecheesoo. For all that everybody wants to get back to the ways of the primitive church, you’d best understand that this is the core to which you should be getting back. If you want to understand the primitive church, understand where its focus was: Prayer, and the teaching of the Apostles. It wasn’t on innovation. It wasn’t on wild displays of charismatic gifts. It wasn’t on coming up with new plans to attract the unsaved. Neither was it a matter of building up falsely positive perspectives on the unsaved. The church was all about prayer and catechism. Did they sing? No doubt. But, as Paul suggests here, what they sang was aimed at edification. We catch small glimpses of this in the written record. But even were we to suppose all they sang were psalms, the point would hold, wouldn’t it? The psalms edify. They are designed, like all Scripture, to impart understanding of Truth. The psalms, as we have discussed, might be said to be the most effective means, being as they were intended to be set to music, and music so readily embeds the words in our minds. But if we ask what words, we return to kateecheesoo, words of instruction in the truth of God.
When you pray, pray to edify. When you sing, sing to edify. When you talk, talk to edify. When you listen, listen actively, that you may be edified. Engage. Do all for the glory of God, and know that God is glorified when His children help each other grow in holiness, and make this their chief end. Welcome to worship.
