The apostolic kind of glossolalia – ie, either miraculously being able to speak a real language, or miraculously being understood in a listener’s language – is not a gift that is paralleled anywhere pagan that I know about. It’s not an unheard of gift, among missionaries, and saints like St. Francis Xavier occasionally received it when preaching out in Asia. (It didn’t keep him from having to learn the local people’s languages, and a hard time he had of it, too!)
The babbling kind of glossolalia as we usually hear of it, and in the form that annoyed St. Paul into setting down rules, is a form of reaction to crowds and excitement. It can be a deeply religious for some people, while for others it’s just like girls seeing the Beatles, shrieking with excitement, and finding themselves fainting.
Basically, if your brain gets a lot of exciting (name removed by moderator)ut all at once, and especially if you’re around a lot of other excited people, the brain seems to have the option to turn off some of its control and intellectual functions. If it turns off your bloodflow for a moment, you faint. If it turns off your ability to stand, you topple over. (Some groups associate this with being “slain in the Spirit.”) If it turns off parts of your language centers, you start producing various random sound patterns instead of words in your own language. I’m sure there is more to it, but there is evidence that if other people around you are having a certain form of excited crowd reaction, or if you expect to have one, your brain is more likely to choose the same one everybody else is having.
The dark side is that there are less pleasant crowd reactions, of the kind usually associated with “mass hysteria.” If somebody starts throwing up in the middle of an excited crowd, a whole lot of other people can start throwing up, too.
(breaklng up this post)