In other tongues

Maxwell Ryan reminiscences…

There was a language barrier, not that we meant it to be that way, but just that I didn’t know German and they didn’t know English - apart from a few tourist phrases on either side. But it didn’t matter, for in this gathering there was operating a powerful means to communication that transcended speech patterns.

But let me set the scene. It was in a town in Germany and an international leader was conducting the final session of officers’ councils. There were problems which could have become hindrances but didn’t. For one, there was translation for which the speaker had to remember that the time for every talk had to be doubled, or if there were two languages for translation, tripled. Then there was the natural fatigue that comes from having a group of active Salvation Army officers cooped up in a relatively small room for lengthy meetings.

By now the addresses had been made, the testimonies given, and it was time for the prayer meeting. In earnest tones the meeting leader laid before the officers their spiritual responsibilities and led them in singing a chorus. He called for prayer and from many parts of the room voices were heard speaking to God in strange tongues - strange to me at least.

Then, one by one, as the Holy Spirit led, officers old and young made their way to the Mercy Seat. I was greatly moved at the sight of one young couple that, hand in hand and with tears coursing down their cheeks, almost rushed down the aisle to kneel at two chairs. Their shoulders shook and the sound of their sobbing could be heard, and yet there was no censure, no criticism, just an acceptance by all present that in His own way God was meeting their need.

My heart was near bursting and there was a lump in my throat that could not be swallowed. I reached for my handkerchief and surreptitiously wiped my eyes. But I need not have been surreptitious; all around me officers, moved by the Holy Spirit, were giving unrestrained vent to their feelings, and none was ashamed.

True, the prayer meeting choruses had been emotional in content, and the super-heated atmosphere of the meeting was conducive to such responses. Some might say that those who knelt at the Mercy Seat responded to pressure and were simply brainwashed. But what of such pettifogging comments? What is wrong with appealing to the emotions? Where lies the danger in providing a place of spiritual receptivity? Why is weakness associated with a full heart and flowing tears?

The officers knew only too well that soon this precious oasis would be but a memory and once again they would be at the front line of service in a hard country that had little understanding of The Salvation Army. The international leader and his party would be back in London where the demands of IHQ life would fill their waking moments.

And yet, and yet the seeds that had been sown would bear fruit for the Kingdom. Of that there was no doubt, at least in the heart of this reporter.

This memory by Lieut.-Colonel Maxwell Ryan is from the mid-1970s when he was stationed at IHQ, and traveled as a reporter for the international War Cry.

Writer: Lieut.-Colonel Maxwell Ryan is a former Editor in Chief in Canada and the UK. In retirement he is a copy editor of theRubicon and the author of two series on theRubicon - Resurrected Writersand Thinkaloud.

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