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Speaking in tongues is one of those things… definitely kind of extraordinary when you take a detached look at it. I mean, this is strange and exotic. In the sense of surprising and extraterrestrial. What, a language which is generally unintelligible except to the Holy Spirit?  And this language is like an internal supplement that nourishes and builds you up as you speak it? That is can even transport you to the heavenlies as you sing it, up and away to the holy of holies? This is even more extraordinary. This is exotic, sunny, and definitely interesting! What’s more, this heavenly language may be seen as a weapon which ‘binds’ enemy forces and ‘looses’ spiritual artillery, which can attack bring down entrenched spiritual ‘strongholds’ with something like a supernatural drone? To the objective observer, steeped in the scientific method, even if glossolalia is prized by a billion earthlings, all the above is just incredible and other-worldly.  Again, to think that this heavenly language puts you in touch with the mind of God, so that ‘when we’ve reached the end of our hoarded resources’ and run out of answers, our prayers can have a precision and relevance beyond human understanding, taking up things which “cannot be uttered” — that “as the Spirit helps us,” we are moving in sync with the hands that hold the universe? Ciel au-dessus, this is more formidable than the Arc de Triomphe — that triumphal doorway built by the sunny and exotic French into the wonders of ‘gay Paris’ and its romantic walkways along the Siene!  A doorway that is grand and marvellous and even, take-your-breath-away awesome.

Same with being born again.  That too is kind of funny — as it struck Nicodemus, Jesus’ late night interlocutor, who said, maybe with a laugh, “What, you want me back in my mother’s womb to be born again?”  That’s funny.  And kind of crazy.  And also very sunny and warm.  And to think that a simple prayer triggers the labour pains?  “Jesus Messiah, name above all names, beautiful Saviour, Emmanuel, refuge for sinners, ransom from heaven, blessed redeemer… come into my heart. Forgive my sins. Help me to live for you.”  That such a childlike prayer somehow opens the floodgates of heaven?  That it downloads life-changing power — and not just for time, but for eternity?  That’s truly funny, in the sense of beyond belief.  No wonder Nicodemus slapped his forehead (I suspect) when he said, “How can these things possibly be?” How indeed!  It’s just incredible.  And wonderful. And definitely sunny.

Then there’s falling in love, another kind of funny and sunny thing. How can we possibly keep singing our lovely ballads and believing in this as the epitome of our earthly joys… always enrapturing a new generation of poets and songsters?  “Some enchanted evening, when you find your true love across a crowded room.…then run to his arms…”   We keep affirming this — the implausible “ways of a man with a maid.”  That two distinct personalities can make a pledge and become one! A new social unit! That’s funny, sunny, and at times even hilarious.  And that such a union not only replenishes the human family, but renews and brings out the best in the lovers! That it returns such benefits to the participants that is is a form of self-love, and it is said, “He who loves his wife actually loves himself.“  Lord have mercy — this is beyond funny and incredible. Yet it’s so sunny and warm. Funny, sunny and warm — and very often out-of-this-world wild.

It makes you think that a lot of life’s important things are kind of funny, exotic and sunny.  And that you need something like a sense of humour, or at least a sense of wonder, to take them up.  Maybe that’s what faith is, after all: something childlike, a sense of wonder which is ready to explore, to leave our familiar homeland in austere Ur of the Chaldees — to turn our steps toward a new, promised land. 

In Tennyson’s words, “to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”  To take them up. Life’s lovely best gifts.