Tuesday, April 05, 2005
AOTGA - Act 5 Cont'd
I met the woman in 1967 after I had spoken to the single young adult group at Bel Air Presbyterian Church. She shook hands with me and said, "When I heard you were speaking here I wouldn't have missed it. You see, you saved my life." She went on to explain her striking statement. It seems that she had decided to commit suicide, had locked the doors and stuffed paper in all of the cracks, preparatory to turning on the gas. At the conclusion of these preparations, her eye fell upon a Trinity Magazine someone had asked her to read. She picked it up and began to read and as she did something happened -- she believed. She turned her life over to Christ, pulled the paper out of the cracks, and shortly thereafter received the Holy Spirit. She had a quiet glow about her that made it difficult to imagine she had ever planned to kill herself.
And then there was the architect in England. Someone lent him a Trinity and he read it all of the way through. That night as he was taking a bath he said to God, "I wish I could have that gift." Immediately he began to speak to God in a language he didn't know. He wrote that the language gushed out and he was afraid to leave the tub for fear it would cease. However, the water was getting cold. At last he cautiously eased himself out of the tub. The language continued, but he decided he had better not brush his teeth that night!
One unusual story came from a layman who has since become a minister. He was enthusiastic in his experience, and one night at Trinity Chapel I requested him to tell the people how and where he had received the baptism in the Spirit. He seemed reluctant but really had no choice as I had asked him publicly. He spoke briefly, without much punch, and didn't give a single detail of how he had received the Spirit. Later I asked why. He blushed and said his story was a little different to communicate to others as he had been sitting on the loo praying when God visited him! When one of our group spoke in a Pentecostal church, it used to be routine for the minister to inform the congregation that "God is no respecter of persons" (i.e., God is even interested in Episcopalians). Now we know that He is no respecter of places either.
Trinity went to Yale, Wheaton, Princeton, Dartmouth, and many other colleges, and was quoted extensively. It cause quite a stir in some circles. When the men at Yale were filled with the Holy Spirit, Time Magazine titled the story, "Blue Tongues." An Episcopal priest wrote an amusing bit of doggerel and read it at a Trinity luncheon:
Trinity was part of the scene.
In fact, Trinity was so much a part of the scene (even though members of the church hierarchy were pretending it did not exist) that at an Episcopal Diocesan Convention, when the microphone was sending forth words unintelligible to the ear, someone said, "It sounds like Trinity," and brought down the house.
However, it was difficult to ignore something that was getting as much publicity as the baptism in the Holy Spirit. It was being written about more and more frequently in both religious and secular publications. I had written some articles for magazines and been interviewed for others. Both ministers and laity of all denominations were receiving the gift of the Spirit in increasing numbers. We had begun Christian Advance, which was a series of meetings to acquaint interested people with the work of God in His Church in the twentieth century. They were very effective.
Trinity had been born in the fall of 1961. It made a strong enough impression that a committee of seven bishops headed by the Rt Rev Chandler W Sterling, was appointed to investigate glossolalia. The result was a cautious but favorable statement issued by the committee accepting glossolalia as a "Gift of God." My plan to have the Episcopal Church recognize speaking in tongues as a genuine religious experience had already borne fruit. But God had more in mind.
Eight of us went to an Anglo-Catholic church one Sunday morning. Father Bob, the rector, was interested to see such a large group attending and wanted to talk to us. In those days we only had one subject of conversation. The next week he came to a prayer meeting, was prayed for, and spoke in tongues. He was blissful about his experience but told us later that he had been singing in that language ever since he was confirmed! He had had no idea it possessed significance.
Shortly afterward Father Bob was approached by the rector of the other Episcopal church in his city. "Bob," he said, "I want to warn you that there are Episcopalians who speak in tongues. You might even have some in your church. The funny thing about it is they look like anyone else." Little did he know he was talking to one of those "tongue-speakers."
When Father Bob took his vacation, his substitute was the Rev Cameron Harriot, a priest who had just come from Alaska. While I was out of town, my friends told Father Harriot about the Spirit and brought him to my house to pray for him. I began to think they didn't have houses of their own. Or perhaps they were like the young man who talked to the famous Smith Wigglesworth. Smith Wigglesworth was a plumber baptized in the Spirit in England around 1907 when an Anglican canon's wife prayed with him. He became a Pentecostal minister of great renown. One day Smith came out of a church where he had been preaching and found a young man sobbing in the doorway. He inquired what was wrong and the young man confided he had been seeking the baptism in the Spirit and God had not given it to him. Smith exclaimed, "Oh, is that all you want. God, fill him with the Holy Spirit," and he struck him on the head. The boy burst out speaking in tongues. Later the fellow rounded up all of his friends who had been desiring the Spirit, lined them up in the doorway and said, "This is where you get it." Perhaps my friends thought my house was where you got "it."
I was on a plane for San Francisco when an Episcopal priest and his wife sat in the seats in front of me. On my lap was a copy of Trinity and on top of it a copy of The Living Church. As the priest was putting their coats in the luggage rack, he saw The Living Church and commented, "I see you're one of ours." Later when he turned around I was reading The Living Church, exposing Trinity to view. "Trinity!" he exclaimed, "Do you know anything about that?" I confessed I did and spent the hour to San Francisco answering his questions. That night he and his wife and young daughter came to the Episcopal church to hear me speak. His daughter committed herself to Jesus Christ. His wife was baptized with the Spirit and he would have been too, but every time we tried to pray someone interrupted us. Imagine my feelings to discover he was the canon at "Pike's Peak" (Grace Cathedral) and his older daughter was the psychiatrist on Bishop Pike's committee to investigate speaking in tongues.
The sequel came when the canon's wife had lunch with the Rev Massey Shepherd, Esther Pike, and other friends. They were joking about speaking in tongues and labeling it mass hynosis. The canon's wife interjected something like, "If my daughter discovers that mass hynosis is how God does it I won't mind. I just want to say that it has been wonderful." You can imagine the jaw-dropping that little bomb brought. I could almost hear God laughing.
And then the Bishop Pike - tongues controversy made headlines and somehow or other I was involved. If I had known then that I would one day appear on the front page of the San Francisco newspapers in a theological battle with the Rt Rev James Pike, I wonder if I would have gone to that first prayer meeting.
Click here for the Table of Contents
And then there was the architect in England. Someone lent him a Trinity and he read it all of the way through. That night as he was taking a bath he said to God, "I wish I could have that gift." Immediately he began to speak to God in a language he didn't know. He wrote that the language gushed out and he was afraid to leave the tub for fear it would cease. However, the water was getting cold. At last he cautiously eased himself out of the tub. The language continued, but he decided he had better not brush his teeth that night!
One unusual story came from a layman who has since become a minister. He was enthusiastic in his experience, and one night at Trinity Chapel I requested him to tell the people how and where he had received the baptism in the Spirit. He seemed reluctant but really had no choice as I had asked him publicly. He spoke briefly, without much punch, and didn't give a single detail of how he had received the Spirit. Later I asked why. He blushed and said his story was a little different to communicate to others as he had been sitting on the loo praying when God visited him! When one of our group spoke in a Pentecostal church, it used to be routine for the minister to inform the congregation that "God is no respecter of persons" (i.e., God is even interested in Episcopalians). Now we know that He is no respecter of places either.
Trinity went to Yale, Wheaton, Princeton, Dartmouth, and many other colleges, and was quoted extensively. It cause quite a stir in some circles. When the men at Yale were filled with the Holy Spirit, Time Magazine titled the story, "Blue Tongues." An Episcopal priest wrote an amusing bit of doggerel and read it at a Trinity luncheon:
The great historic churches seem dignified, we know,
And that is how the leaders would have the picture show.
But rumors have been flying of strangest goings on,
Just talked about in whispers, from secret sources drawn.
The fears are strong and many lest this be noised about,
The cupboard door be opened, the skeleton get out.
The fact is -- glossolalia, which holy rollers boost,
Within historic churches has lately come to roost.
And if God's frozen people begin this thawing out,
The world may stop and listen what the Christian faith's about.
The world can still ignore it when preachers burst their lungs,
But never when God's frozen begin to speak in tongues.
Come now, read all about it, and here behind the screen
We'll sell you hottest copies of Trinity Magazine
Trinity was part of the scene.
In fact, Trinity was so much a part of the scene (even though members of the church hierarchy were pretending it did not exist) that at an Episcopal Diocesan Convention, when the microphone was sending forth words unintelligible to the ear, someone said, "It sounds like Trinity," and brought down the house.
However, it was difficult to ignore something that was getting as much publicity as the baptism in the Holy Spirit. It was being written about more and more frequently in both religious and secular publications. I had written some articles for magazines and been interviewed for others. Both ministers and laity of all denominations were receiving the gift of the Spirit in increasing numbers. We had begun Christian Advance, which was a series of meetings to acquaint interested people with the work of God in His Church in the twentieth century. They were very effective.
Trinity had been born in the fall of 1961. It made a strong enough impression that a committee of seven bishops headed by the Rt Rev Chandler W Sterling, was appointed to investigate glossolalia. The result was a cautious but favorable statement issued by the committee accepting glossolalia as a "Gift of God." My plan to have the Episcopal Church recognize speaking in tongues as a genuine religious experience had already borne fruit. But God had more in mind.
Eight of us went to an Anglo-Catholic church one Sunday morning. Father Bob, the rector, was interested to see such a large group attending and wanted to talk to us. In those days we only had one subject of conversation. The next week he came to a prayer meeting, was prayed for, and spoke in tongues. He was blissful about his experience but told us later that he had been singing in that language ever since he was confirmed! He had had no idea it possessed significance.
Shortly afterward Father Bob was approached by the rector of the other Episcopal church in his city. "Bob," he said, "I want to warn you that there are Episcopalians who speak in tongues. You might even have some in your church. The funny thing about it is they look like anyone else." Little did he know he was talking to one of those "tongue-speakers."
When Father Bob took his vacation, his substitute was the Rev Cameron Harriot, a priest who had just come from Alaska. While I was out of town, my friends told Father Harriot about the Spirit and brought him to my house to pray for him. I began to think they didn't have houses of their own. Or perhaps they were like the young man who talked to the famous Smith Wigglesworth. Smith Wigglesworth was a plumber baptized in the Spirit in England around 1907 when an Anglican canon's wife prayed with him. He became a Pentecostal minister of great renown. One day Smith came out of a church where he had been preaching and found a young man sobbing in the doorway. He inquired what was wrong and the young man confided he had been seeking the baptism in the Spirit and God had not given it to him. Smith exclaimed, "Oh, is that all you want. God, fill him with the Holy Spirit," and he struck him on the head. The boy burst out speaking in tongues. Later the fellow rounded up all of his friends who had been desiring the Spirit, lined them up in the doorway and said, "This is where you get it." Perhaps my friends thought my house was where you got "it."
I was on a plane for San Francisco when an Episcopal priest and his wife sat in the seats in front of me. On my lap was a copy of Trinity and on top of it a copy of The Living Church. As the priest was putting their coats in the luggage rack, he saw The Living Church and commented, "I see you're one of ours." Later when he turned around I was reading The Living Church, exposing Trinity to view. "Trinity!" he exclaimed, "Do you know anything about that?" I confessed I did and spent the hour to San Francisco answering his questions. That night he and his wife and young daughter came to the Episcopal church to hear me speak. His daughter committed herself to Jesus Christ. His wife was baptized with the Spirit and he would have been too, but every time we tried to pray someone interrupted us. Imagine my feelings to discover he was the canon at "Pike's Peak" (Grace Cathedral) and his older daughter was the psychiatrist on Bishop Pike's committee to investigate speaking in tongues.
The sequel came when the canon's wife had lunch with the Rev Massey Shepherd, Esther Pike, and other friends. They were joking about speaking in tongues and labeling it mass hynosis. The canon's wife interjected something like, "If my daughter discovers that mass hynosis is how God does it I won't mind. I just want to say that it has been wonderful." You can imagine the jaw-dropping that little bomb brought. I could almost hear God laughing.
And then the Bishop Pike - tongues controversy made headlines and somehow or other I was involved. If I had known then that I would one day appear on the front page of the San Francisco newspapers in a theological battle with the Rt Rev James Pike, I wonder if I would have gone to that first prayer meeting.
Click here for the Table of Contents
# posted by LeeSun @ 2:28 pm 
