Breaking the Silence

Embracing and Normalizing Spiritual Experiences

“I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple...”

These familiar words are from the prophet Isaiah. Most of us read and accept them as something that really happened to him. After all, he was a prophet, a professional spokesperson for God, an expert in Yahweh. Also, these words are in the Bible, the "Word of God." So they come with a little extra weight of believability for Christians.

Now imagine you're at a Bible study, or meeting a friend at the coffee shop; suppose they shared a similar experience with you face to face. What are your immediate feelings? Be honest. Some would accept it; the majority would respond with honest skepticism.

Why?

In Encountering Mystery: Religious Experience in a Secular Age, Dale Allison provides an answer to this question. In short, at some point these experiences moved from the realm of normal into the uncomfortable space of shame and abnormality.

He writes, “If we are taught that only the mad or naive have a certain experience, then none but the mad or naive will report that experience. The rest, wanting to be perceived as normal, will keep quiet.”

In other words, peer pressure. It works in the halls of high schools and apparently in the streets of adulthood. From where did this pressure come? The expected answer would be those godforsaken atheists, spreading their unbelief and causing the faithful to retreat into their corners, lest they be mocked. Incorrect! Unsurprisingly, the retreat began from the ivory towers of theological thought, and the pulpits that spread Christian doctrine and dogma.

It was during the Reformation that many Protestants began losing a theological framework that included having visions, seeing ghosts, angelic visitations, etc. This, along with the eventual “enlightening” of our minds, led us (Westerners) to become silent about experiences we were having... even though many continued having them.

In Encountering Mystery, Allison tells of a study conducted in Sweden in the '90s:

Researchers were studying the psychological states attending bereavement. They interviewed fifty people in their early seventies. All had lost a spouse within the previous year. When first asked whether they had ever encountered a dead husband or wife, only a single individual (a spiritualist) answered affirmatively. After, however, the interviewers informed the widows and widowers that apparent contact with the dead is a common part of the grieving process, not a symptom of mental debility, they opened up. As it turned out, fully half had felt the presence of their departed spouse, and a third reported seeing, hearing, or speaking with a loved one. One out of fifty suddenly became twenty-five out of fifty. Two percent became 50 percent. With assurance, people were honest. Without assurance, they kept quiet.

I can testify to similar experiences. Once I preached on Death Bed Experiences on All Saints Day. In that sermon, I said something like, “because we serve a good God we can expect that around the time of our departure from this life, he will send people or angels to make the transition a peaceful one.” Then I told stories of people being visited by departed loved ones, angels, etc. The next two weeks, parishioners requested private meetings to share similar experiences they had when their loved ones were departing. A majority of them reported not sharing it with other people because of how strange it seemed, and not knowing what others would think.

Indeed, in another study, hospice doctors and nurses anonymously reported similar stories and similar reasons for not sharing them publicly, except they added concern for their reputation to the list of reasons they didn't share.

But why should we be so quiet about things the Bible is vocal about? Shouldn’t we reclaim the tradition as one of the ways God chooses to be with us, and have ministries that help people process their experiences?

Now, I don’t pretend to believe everything people say, but I also don't doubt everything they say when it becomes “strange.” So, when a sensible person tells me, “I had a BLT for lunch,” I don't doubt that they experienced something that led them to that conclusion. Why, then, would I begin to doubt them when they say, “I saw an angel in my bedroom”? Of course, the latter is more fantastic than the former, but the sensibility of the person remains the same.

All of this is to say, we need a culture where people feel psychologically safe to share experiences that may seem too fantastic for reality.

I am writing this article because, following Allison’s lead, I'd like to see the expression of these experiences become normalized and placed within a context wherein we can properly process them. After all, we (Christians) already express a belief in a supernatural God, who rules from a nonphysical space. Why should we be alarmed when the curtain between the physical and nonphysical is pulled back, and we see?

I’ve decided to share one of my experiences of the curtain being pulled back. I’ve shared this in private settings, but never, to my recollection, in a sermon or an article. I guarded this story for the same reason many in Allison’s book guarded theirs; I didn't want people thinking I’m losing it, or I didn’t want to make them uncomfortable.

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During my junior year at Ohio State University (Go Bucks!), a friend of mine who was from the apostolic/holiness tradition asked if I'd received the Holy Spirit with the evidence of speaking in tongues. (In that tradition, they believe that the evidence that one had received the Spirit was that they spoke in tongues. I disagreed with this then, as does the Bible; but at that time I didn't know enough to argue in a sophisticated manner.) Nevertheless, I told him that I hadn't.

He then asked me if I wanted to be baptized in the Spirit? Even though I disagreed with the premise, I had been desiring a richer life with God, so I said yes and set up a time to go to his church to pray.

A few days later, he picked me up around noon, and we headed to his dad’s church. It was just me, him, and the church office manager. We went into the sanctuary to pray.

He instructed me to just repeat the name “Jesus” over and over again as an invocation and a way of expressing my desire to be filled with his presence. Again, I do not believe that God submits to means as a rule, but he will condescend to meet with those who approach in humility with broken and contrite hearts, regardless of the means they use.

I did what he asked for a while but, to be honest, I began feeling stupid and infantile. Soon I just started praying and telling God what I wanted and asking to be filled with the Holy Spirit. Suddenly, I felt what I can only describe as a desire to confess, almost like I was carrying heavy boxes and someone said, “you can just set those down right there.”

I began confessing things openly that I hadn't mentioned to anyone ever; things I was ashamed of, things small and great, everything. Mind you, I’m still in the room with the other two; they're definitely hearing me!

Suddenly, the room started shining with a golden light that was coming from... everywhere! Initially, my eyes were closed, but the light was so bright that I opened them to see what was happening. I didn’t see the two people anymore, just light, golden light.

As I was looking around the room, all of a sudden, I saw two golden hands reaching toward me from the ceiling. The hands were huge, and they were coming from a golden robe, straight towards my face.

As this was happening, I felt my tongue freed up (Here's what I mean by freed up. Imagine someone born and bred in Brooklyn, accent and all. Now, imagine they learn to speak French. Even if they mastered it, they'll still sound like a New Yorker speaking French, because their mouth and tongue have been formed. Well, in that moment, I felt like my tongue was freed to not only speak a new language but to do so with a different accent!) and I began speaking another language. I didn't know what I was saying, but I know that I was speaking an intelligent language, not gibberish.

This seemed to last for an eternity, but in actuality it couldn't have been more than 25 seconds. As the hands came close to my face, I recall speaking more rapidly, as tears of relief and joy were streaming down my face.

Then everything returned to normal.

I turned to the other two and eagerly said, “Did you see that!?”

They saw nothing, but they said I was speaking some language. I explained to them what happened, and they responded with what I can only describe as polite acceptance.

When we left, I called my dad and told him I'd seen a vision of Jesus. I'm not sure why I thought it was Jesus, I just did. My dad, who was no stranger to these experiences, rejoiced with me and prayed for me.

I was walking on clouds the next few weeks while I reflected upon this experience and prayed for it to happen again. I even shared it with a few people; this is what led me to begin keeping it to myself.

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Many people ask me what I think it meant. I'm not certain, since no words were exchanged; but I know how I felt. It was the most powerful feeling of love and acceptance I’ve had to this day, it was like a force emanating from all around me. I’ve come to believe that as I confessed it was Jesus’s way of saying, "I know, I have forgiven you, I love you, and I accept you."

You don't have to believe it; my point in sharing it is that it was an important and memorable experience that I had. Allison’s book inspired me to be less weird about sharing weird things.

Reader, perhaps you've had an experience of your own; I write this not so that you would share it, but so that you know you don’t have to keep it secret. Here is a message that Allison received during a religious experience that he had,

The world is full of life, overflowing from God's hand. The Golden Age, Eden, has not passed from the world; rather, people are blind, they cannot see. This that you see is always here, and always will be here. Indeed, this is what the saints shall see, walking upon the lawn of heaven.

Finally, for those who haven’t had encounters like this, don’t fret. Having a remarkable experience doesn’t say anything about your faith and should not be a source of pride; they are not required to have a deep life in God.

We all should prioritize seeking God utilizing the normal means he has made available to us (like prayer, worship, scripture, etc), and not seek special experiences. If they happen, we can receive them with thanksgiving; if they don’t we can still look at the ways God is working in our lives.

Regardless of the means God uses to make himself known to us, as we experience his manifold presence, we can feel open about sharing it with others, to the end that we can all be encourage to seek and serve him with greater diligence.