THE BEAUTY OF TONGUES IN THE LIGHT OF SCRIPTURE

Sometimes heaven seems to breathe upon earth, and one of those holy moments unfolded on the day of Pentecost. The disciples waited, praying in the upper room, and suddenly the Spirit descended, filling them with a power not their own. And when they spoke, the multitudes marveled, saying, “We hear them declaring the wonderful works of God in our own languages” (Acts 2:11).

These “tongues” were not mysteries whispered into the air; they were languages—real, intelligible, purposeful—given by the Spirit so that the glory of Christ might be heard by every heart in its own native sound. Grace spoke in a way the listener could understand, and that is always the way of our gracious God.

Paul unfolds this with pastoral tenderness in his letter to Corinth. He reminds us that gifts are never ornaments—they are instruments; they are not given for personal display but for the building up of Christ’s church. “If I come speaking with tongues,” he says, “what good is it unless I bring understanding—knowledge, prophecy, or instruction?” (1 Corinthians 14:6). Language without meaning is like a lamp without oil—it flickers but gives no light.

Yet when the Spirit grants interpretation (1 Corinthians 12:30), even the unlearned language becomes a river of blessing, touching every soul present. So Paul, with apostolic clarity, declares, “I would rather speak five words that can be understood than ten thousand in an unknown tongue” (1 Corinthians 14:19). Truth must be clear, or else it cannot be cherished.

Some, with sincere hearts, ask whether this gift continues among us today. Scripture foretells a day when certain gifts would cease (1 Corinthians 13:8–10), and many thoughtful believers observe that tongues served as a sign—an echo of Isaiah’s warning (Isaiah 28:11) and a whisper of Joel’s prophecy (Joel 2:28–29). We note Paul’s words: “Tongues are for a sign to unbelievers” (1 Corinthians 14:22). And we see in the ruins of Jerusalem, A.D. 70, the sobering fulfillment of that sign. Yet while this view holds weight, Scripture does not speak with absolute finality on the exact moment of cessation, and humility calls us to acknowledge both its possibility and its silence.

But this much is certain—if God were to grant this gift today, it would bear the same marks it bore in the days of the apostles. It would be a real language, not an unintelligible sound (1 Corinthians 14:10). It would be used to proclaim God’s truth to a hearer who knows that language (Acts 2:6–12). It would speak with holy order—“two or at the most three,” each in turn, and never without interpretation (1 Corinthians 14:27–28). And above all, it would reflect the character of the God who gives it—never confusing, always peaceful, always clear (1 Corinthians 14:33). For the Spirit who descended in fire on Pentecost does not kindle chaos; He kindles comprehension.

So let us walk away from these truths with reverence and gratitude. The God who once spoke through many languages can still speak to the heart today—through the Scriptures, through the gospel, through the whisper of grace. And whether with the tongues of men or simply the quiet sighs of prayer, may our words always declare the wonderful works of God, who meets each soul in the language it can hear, and in the mercy it most needs.

BDD