A popular Christian practice, taken mainly from 1 Corinthians 14, treats the gift of so-called “tongues” as a private prayer language. Other passages, such as Acts 2:11; 10:46 and Romans 8:26, are also commonly cited in support. But the New Testament presentation of the gift known by its Greek name glossolalia — more precisely, the supernatural ability to speak in previously unlearned languages — points toward two usages which seriously undermine this practice.
First, the gift functioned as a supernatural sign connected with the outpouring of God’s spirit and the confirmation of the Kingdom Gospel. Hebrews 2:3–4 does not single out this gift specifically, but it places “signs, wonders, various miracles, and gifts of holy spirit” within God’s corroboration of the Gospel of salvation, as first announced by Jesus and confirmed by those who heard him. At Pentecost, Jews and proselytes from many nations heard the disciples speaking in their “own languages about the mighty works of God” (Acts 2:4–11). This fulfilled, in part, the promise of the spirit being poured out in the last days (Acts 2:16–18; Joel 2:28–32).
The same miraculous sign later provided clear evidence to Jewish believers that Gentiles had been accepted by God without first being circumcised in the flesh in order to follow the Law of Moses. When the household of Cornelius received the spirit, the Jewish believers heard them “speaking in languages and magnifying God” (Acts 10:44–46). Peter, and later the Jerusalem Council, appealed to this event as proof that God had given the Gentiles the same gift He had given the Jewish believers “at the beginning” (Acts 11:15–18; 15:7–9).
Second, when the gift was used within the church, Paul’s overriding concern was that it should edify, encourage and strengthen others. This is the controlling theme throughout 1 Corinthians 12–14. These gifts are given to benefit “all” (1 Cor. 12:7), and Paul repeatedly insists that what is spoken in the church must become intelligible if it is to benefit anyone else (1 Cor. 14:5–12, 26). This explains why the gift of translation was crucial, whether exercised by the speaker or someone else. The gift could build up the church only when its meaning was translated (1 Cor. 14:5, 13, 27). Without a translator, Paul commands those speaking in languages to remain silent in the church (v. 28).
These two points should provide the context when dealing with the strongest appeal to the gift being used for private prayer, which comes from 1 Corinthians 14.
The setting is clearly the assembled church: “in the church...” (v. 19), “If the whole church is gathered...” (v. 23), and “When you come together...” (v. 26; cp. vv. 28, 33). That is Paul’s concern from beginning to end: what happens when Christians gather and whether what is spoken benefits “all.”
As you read through the chapter, note the ratio in v. 19 — five intelligible words rather than ten thousand unintelligible ones — which hardly supports the idea that unintelligibility itself possesses some special spiritual virtue. Paul’s response to prayer in a language not understood by others is not, “Therefore I will continue praying without understanding in private.” His conclusion is that prayer and praise should involve both spirit and understanding. The following verses make his concern unmistakable.
If someone gives thanks using the gift but another believer cannot understand, that person cannot intelligently say “Amen,” “since they do not know what you said” (vv. 16–17). Nor does Paul’s statement, “I thank God that I speak in languages more than all of you” (v. 18), establish that Paul habitually prayed privately in “tongues” at home, while travelling on mission, or walking alone. The text simply does not say that. Reading a particular private prayer practice into that sentence is eisegesis rather than exegesis.
In fact, Paul immediately follows it with, “But in the church...” (v. 19), returning to the central setting of his whole teaching. Once again, his foremost concern is understandable speech which instructs others, not a private practice carried out at home or alone. To claim otherwise is to beg the question — that is, to assume in the premise precisely what still needs to be demonstrated.
Paul also explicitly describes speaking in foreign languages as a “sign” in vv. 21–22, quoting Isaiah 28:11–12. In its original setting, Isaiah speaks of God addressing unbelieving Israel through the lips of foreign speakers as part of His judgment upon them. Whatever difficulties there may be in working out every detail of Paul’s application, his appeal to Isaiah clearly presents the gift as a supernatural sign in public rather than primarily as a private prayer practice.
Then notice what Paul actually commands in v. 28: silence in the church. The verse does not say, “Let him pray in tongues privately,” nor does “speak to themselves and to God” necessarily mean “pray to God in a supernatural private prayer language.” The contrast is between publicly addressing the church and refraining from doing so when nobody can translate. Indeed, the phrase “speak to themselves” itself cautions against automatically equating the whole expression with prayer. Paul’s immediate point is that an untranslated utterance must not be imposed upon the church.
Similarly, not every reference to praying “in the spirit” (v. 15) should automatically be identified with speaking in languages. Paul tells Christians generally to pray “at all times in spirit” (Eph. 6:18), and Jude speaks of believers “praying in holy spirit” (Jude 20). Nothing in either passage mentions languages. To make “praying in the spirit” a technical synonym for “praying privately in tongues at home or when alone” simply assumes a definition which those passages themselves never provide. That puts you right back into circular reasoning.
Romans 8:26 is sometimes misapplied in the same way. But “groanings which cannot be expressed in words” can hardly serve as straightforward proof of the gift of languages. Paul describes God’s spirit assisting believers in weakness when they do not know what they ought to pray. He does not say that believers therefore begin speaking in an unknown language. The fact is that something described as beyond verbal expression is poor evidence for a particular form of verbal speech.
The decisive principle for understanding 1 Corinthians 14 is given throughout 1 Corinthians 12, before Paul even begins his detailed discussion of the gift. For example, Paul explains:
“To each person is given the evidence of the spirit for the benefit of all” (v. 7).
The same spirit furthermore distributes the various gifts “to each person as he desires” (12:11), and Paul specifically distinguishes the ability to speak different languages from the companion gift of translating them (12:10). He later asks rhetorically, “Do all speak in languages? Do all translate?” (12:30). The expected answer is no. The gifts are distributed throughout the body — Christians in the church — not given indiscriminately to every individual as identical gifts.
Paul does acknowledge that an untranslated language results in the speaker being built up while the congregation is not (1 Cor. 14:4). But he does not present self-edification as the objective Christians should pursue. He contrasts it with prophecy precisely because prophecy “builds up the church.” His preference is explicit: the one who prophesies is more useful to the congregation than the one speaking in languages “unless he translates, so that the church may be built up” (v. 5).
The argument of 1 Corinthians 14 is therefore almost the reverse of the modern claim that the gift is primarily a private prayer language. Paul continually defines its use in the gathered church in terms of understanding, translation and instruction, because that is what results in the edification of others. His repeated concern is essentially: What benefit does this bring to the people listening?
None of this requires denying that the genuine gift of languages existed or that Paul himself exercised it. Paul explicitly says, “Do not prohibit speaking in languages” (1 Cor. 14:39). The issue is how Scripture defines the gift or gifts and what purpose they served. What the New Testament never clearly institutes is a second category of the gift whose normal purpose is a private, unintelligible prayer language designed to bypass the believer’s understanding. That doctrine has to be inferred; it is never plainly taught.
Paul’s stated ideal is considerably simpler: pray and praise with both spirit and understanding, and when the church gathers, speak so that others can say “Amen” and be built up (1 Cor. 14:15–19).
As for other texts like Acts 2:11, that passage certainly records praise, but these were recognizable human languages understood by the hearers: “we hear them speaking in our own languages.” The passage says nothing about the gift being used as a private prayer language. Likewise, Acts 10:46 says Cornelius and his household were “speaking in languages and magnifying God.” Again, the narrative purpose is evidential: this gift convinced the Jewish believers that God had given His spirit to Gentiles also (Acts 10:45; 11:15–18).
Lastly, Pentecost shows people supernaturally speaking foreign languages which they had not learned. No translator was required because members of the international audience already understood their own native languages (Acts 2:6–11). In 1 Corinthians 12–14, Paul likewise treats the gift as meaningful language, but because the congregation does not necessarily understand the language being spoken, translation is required. As Paul himself says, “There are many different languages in this world, and none of them is without meaning” (1 Cor. 14:10). This is why the speaker should pray that he can translate (1 Cor. 14:13), or another person with the corresponding gift should translate what has been said (vv. 27–28). That is the whole point.
Paul never suggests that the gift of languages was intended to remain permanently in the prayer closet without understanding.
That is the central weakness in the modern private-prayer-language practice. It redefines the gift as unintelligible “tongues” rather than meaningful language and takes passages concerned overwhelmingly with translation, understanding, and the public edification of others to construct a separate practice whose defining feature is that nobody — including the speaker — needs to know what is being said.
Ironically, that is precisely the condition Paul repeatedly seeks to correct.
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