(as experienced by Jeff Jenkins, at Sunrise Baptist Church while listening to the NABC Choristers sing, “Fire!”, a movement from a Cantata called, “Day of Pentecost” by Leland Sateren)
The choir chirps, whispers, giggles, groans and utters phrases in gibberish. The noise of many voices crescendos in this manner until the whole choir stops abruptly, and screams in unison, “FIRE!”
A lone, pure note is sung and I am swept from the church I have been sitting in. I think I still hear the choir singing in the church, but it is distant and replaced by a new sound. I have been caught up in a vision, and I “hear” a perfectly pure sound. I “hear” this song with my spirit, which is now standing before four, gigantic, circular rings of fire. The fire is alive, or there is something living in it. The fire and the life in it move in a clockwise circle around its diameter. The fire is best described as rainbow colored lightning, constantly changing hue as the power coruscates around and through the circles. The color is undergirded by shades of blue and hot white. I have the impression that there are many eyes in the fire. I see glimpses of wings and torches flying back and forth around the circular fires, like some wild, supernatural, flaming juggling act.
The second portion of the vision begins, (there is a distinct change in my awareness) and I see long, slender, elegant tongues of fire in and around the four larger circles. The tongues look more like natural fire, orange, yellow and red. The flames are in the shape of elongated letter S’s that are pointing at me. I am aware that the tongues are singing as they lap up supernatural air, looking like slow, powerful, graceful, snapping whips.
I am humbled. I am enraptured. I realize I am beholding the presence of the most glorious Being in existence. I have been somewhere near the throne of God, Himself, although I believe I have not gazed on Him directly. My soul is completely at peace, completely in love, completely vulnerable as I worship effortlessly, with a total abandon. Every fiber of my being yields to the presence of the Holy One, and the display of His glory.
I regain my conscious awareness of the church, opening my eyes. I am crying silent, hot, wet tears of joy and fulfillment. The choir is on their last note, and I see the tongues of fire still curling around them and around the front of the church. Quietly, through tears, I tell the little, old woman seated next to me, “That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” She smiles and nods, aware that I have been moved, but unaware of exactly how undone I am.
After the service, I meet choir members in the foyer, crying, thanking them, as though they bestowed the vision. I make my way to my motorcycle in the parking lot where I lean and cry for at least ten minutes. I can barely see or stand. The Living God has touched me and I am utterly undone. I make my way home, contemplating what has happened to me.
I have never experienced anything like it since.