By Jamie Buckingham
(From the book DAUGHTER OF DESTINY, pp 41 – )
Her critics, and she was beginning to collect them even in the early 1930s, said that Kathryn was selling a mixture of “sex and salvation.” To some extent they were correct. The two single women were quite attractive, and part of their appeal lay in their unique presentation of the Gospel. They would linger after the services as long as someone needed help. Often those needing help were lonely men who were unable to differentiate between the love of a heavenly Father and the sex appeal of a young woman who was totally uninhibited in her dealings with men and women alike.. Fortunately, Helen Gulliford was far more conservative than Kathryn, and often cautioned her about becoming too friendly with any of the male admirers who flocked to the altar rail for her prayers. Kathryn did seem to be more wary than in the first days of her ministry and, thanks to Helen’s constant warnings, endeavored to remain discreet—even when she felt she should remain until the early hours of the morning helping some skid row bum “pray through” to salvation.
It was during one of these “after meeting meetings” that she had her first experience with the phenomenon of speaking in tongues.
Kathryn and Helen had come to Joliet, Illinois, for three months of services in the second floor of an store building. (It was here, by the way, that a group known as the Evangelical Church Alliance persuaded the young evangelist that she needed to be ordained. She agreed. It was the only ecclesiastical authorization she ever had.) Kathryn’s only message was salvation, and her message that night was simple and to the point. The crowd, which had numbered several hundred, had gone, and Kathryn stayed on with the half dozen people who were still kneeling at the altar rail. One of those was Isabel Drake, a teacher who commuted from Joliet into Chicago on a daily basis. Kathryn was sitting with Isabel’s mother on one of the front benches while the young teacher crouched at the altar, sometimes sobbing, sometimes praying. Suddenly, Isabel rose to a full kneeling position, lifted her face toward the ceiling, and began to sing.
Kathryn said, “I had never heard such music. It was the most beautiful singing with the most beautiful voice I had ever heard. She was singing in a language I had never heard, but it was so ethereal, so beautiful, that I felt the hair on my skin begin to rise.
“Her mother, who was sitting beside me, gripped my hand and almost broke my fingers. ‘That is not my daughter singing,’ she said, her voice coming in gasps. Isabel can’t even carry a tune, My daughter can’t sing a note.'”
Kathryn said the mother was almost hysterical. It was all she could do to keep her from jumping up and rushing around the room. Instead, they sat quietly together, listening to the beautiful music and the supernatural flow of words that came from the mouth of the young teacher. Sometimes her voice would range up to a high C, and then float off in a minor key, only to drop down to a whisper before picking up on the theme again. Although the words sounded like they might be some ancient Greek or Phoenician chant, Kathryn knew their origin was not earthly.
The music continued for almost fifteen minutes. The young teacher then dropped her head and remained quiet at the altar before turning and embracing her mother. Although Kathryn had sat under the teaching of Charles Price and knew of Pentecostal groups (they were called ‘holy rollers” in those days) who spoke in tongues, she had never heard it before. However, something in her heart registered that this was from God. Isabel had never heard of the “gift of tongues,” nor had she dreamed that her praying would lead her into this dimension of the Spirit. All she had been doing was asking God to fill her with more of Himself—not knowing that her prayer would be answered by a visit from the Holy Spirit.
Many years later, Kathryn witnessed a similar experience in Portland, Oregon. It was during a huge miracle service in 1973. Kathryn had been there for a service on Saturday and then returned Sunday afternoon for a final meeting. The Civic Auditorium was parked. Thousands had been turned away. During the service, a Catholic nun, dressed in her habit, came forward, having just been healed of a tumor in her thigh. She was very timid when Kathryn quizzed her about the nature of her healing. Finally, in a bare whisper, she told how she had been sitting on the main floor with six other nuns and two priests when she felt the burning in her leg. She squeezed the area where the large tumor had been, and it was gone. The two priests insisted she come forward to the platform to testify of the healing. “Oh, honey, that’s so wonderful.” Kathryn said. “I’m so glad.”
Kathryn was weeping. She often wept when someone of this nature—a quiet priest or nun, an older pastor perhaps wizened missionary who had spent his life in God’s work—came forward to testify of healing. She had a special place in her heart for the old, the poor, little children, young couples, and especially the servants of God.
“I thank God for you.” Kathryn said softly as the nun smiled shyly and turned to walk off the platform.
The little nun took only two or three steps and then turned back to where Kathryn was standing at the microphone. Speaking barely above a whisper, she said, “Miss Kuhlman, I’m so hungry to be filled with the Holy Spirit.”
Then, before Kathryn could reach out to touch her, before she could utter the first word of a prayer, the nun just collapsed to the floor. Ordinarily, there were men around to catch those who had this experience, which she called “going under the power” or being “slain by the Spirit.” This time, though, there was nobody close enough to catch the nun. She just slipped to the floor, and at the same time she began speaking in a beautiful, unearthly language.
“A holy hush came over the great congregation,” Kathryn said in describing the incident. “Thousands had filled that Civic Auditorium. No one spoke. I stood there completely transfixed, awed by what was going on as this precious Catholic sister, who knew practically nothing of the baptism of the Holy Spirit, spoke in tongues. Her eyes were closed, and coming from those lips was a language as that which years ago came from the lips of Isabel Drake. It was not babble, for the Holy Spirit does not babble. It was a perfect language, as the Holy Spirit within her used her lips to offer praise and adoration to the heavenly Father above.”