Am I writing this because I am simply the son of 1970's culture? Did St. Paul write as a son of BC culture?

"In view of the extraordinary nature of these revelations [I have], to stop me from getting too proud I was given a thorn in the flesh, an angel of Satan to stop me from getting too proud! About this thing, I have pleaded with the Lord three times for it to leave me, but he has said, 'My grace is enough for you: my power is at its best in weakness.' So I shall be very happy to make my weakness my special boast so that the power of Messiah may stay over me, and that is why I am quite content with my weakness, and with insults, hardships, persecutions, and the agonies I go through for Messiah's sake. For it is when I am weak that I am strong." (2 Corinthians 12:6-10)

I awoke this morning and immediately wrote (typed?) down the following. At the risk of alienating both my secular friends and my religious friends and EVRYONE who hates the retelling of dreams by others (read - everyone) in one fell swoop I have hesitated until now to post this. I have decided, none-the-less, that I should present to you -

My dream on the side of love and liberty.


I had a dream. In it I was first “incarnated” as the standard issue Christian I was. I believed in Jesus as the Son of God but I was tortured by doubts concerning issues of love and mercy, or rather I was tortured by doubts the arose from the hate and repression I found in the Church and in the Scriptures. I could not reconcile myself, the beliefs I found deep in my heart concerning several social issues, human sexuality and enjoyment of the sensual bodies God has given us, a largely pacifistic streak, a concern with issues of torture and injustice, a tendency to side with the oppressed, a compassion for the separated, a joyful embrace of the wonderful diversity of the world, a love of the wisdom one can find in all cultures, the freedom granted to St. Paul to eat the foods in the net that was lowered from heaven, God commanding him to eat – and Paul refusing. Eventually God commanding Paul, saying, “How dare you call unclean what I have called clean.”

In the dream I struggled greatly; I did not abandon the beauty I believed I could see in my heart when I would enter there to spend time with God. Rather, these conflicts caused me to occasionally doubt Jesus and the wisdom and truths I could also see in his words, his life, and my experiences in entering into the spiritual life of the Body of Christ, the Ecclesia. I refused to relinquish these experiences and beliefs just as I refused to relinquish the better experiences of my heart. I was terribly tortured by this in my dream and eventually, while fleeing to and fro from enemies, I sought refuge in a crevice in the ground, but a house was pushed onto me by my enemies and I was crushed and died.

In the dream I entered a plane between that “life” and another. Things which I cannot now explain were explained to me by beings in this space and I was sent back to try again in another “life.”

In that life I lived with complete selfish and evil abandon. I was again pursued by enemies and again “died” at their hands.

I again reentered the plane between, and things now inexplicable were explained to me by a guide who led me from spiritual place to spiritual place, some more beautiful and some less so. I would chose another “life” in another situation and place, and also choose a new mentor type of character to whom I would be subject and from whom I was expected to learn something. In each “incarnation” I would begin again. Each time I felt I would get closer to wisdom and freedom but some hang up or another would rise to center stage and I would be killed by my perusers.

In the second to last “incarnation” my mentor was something akin to a Shaker. He also had previously owned a brewery but later a prohibition was enacted and he dutifully destroyed all of his alcohol by dumping thousands of gallons out of barrels and into a pond on his property. He inadvertently had missed a barrel and when all of the empty barrels had been stored away, the one that was not empty was mixed in with those that were. He began to sell his barrels off to others for various uses.

He sold one to a nearby city to be used as a bell (this is a dream after all!) When it was opened in the city it was found to contain the alcohol. Some people rejoiced and others questioned the man and sought to get him into trouble over this but later it was shown to everyone's satisfaction that it was indeed an accident and he was free to go. This had all happened before my arrival and I had learned of it by reading from a metal plaque on a spot on his property that had a picture of the cart carrying the barrel to the city and told the story.

Later, he and I were sitting together conversing. I told him of my appreciation for his faith and life. I challenged him in the belief that all must not marry but remain celibate. I asked him what someone who was drawn to the family life should do. His first answer was that he must put away his wife and children and serve God in celibacy from then on. I challenged him again, saying, but what of those who are not yet married but are greatly drawn to raise up a family? On this point I would not and could not concede in good conscience that he was right. It moved from a conversation into a type of argument that I would not let go. Eventually he simply looked at me in silence for a long time and I found myself in the space in between “lives” again.

In the final life of my dream I found myself in a kind of Orthodox Christian community. They were liturgically and doctrinally traditionalist but tended not to practice any severe asceticism or concern themselves with matters of gender and were socially quite liberal. I was at first a bit frightened by this dynamic but decided that this was, in general, a nice place. There was a great library of books here and I rejoiced in them. I also enjoyed the presence of my mentor, a black woman who was something akin to the bishop of this community. While in this life my heart became light and joyful and I was able to fly around the city where this community lived and was able to stop and talk with people in the city and offer them some comfort in their troubles. Some came to our community and found more comfort, others did not come but had received some comfort, it did not matter.

Eventually I again challenged the beliefs of my mentor. They were not only socially liberal but sometimes downright libertine and would embrace the sensual to the obvious and indifferent detriment of themselves or others. It was not that they made mistakes or were overly zealous in their freedom that bothered me but they seemed to sometimes be indifferent to the suffering their more extreme acts had caused and did not show any desire to repent of these inflictions of pain but rather simply chose to remain oblivious to the results that had arisen from their actions.

We conversed on this point. I asked that my view be respected. She asked if I were not being intolerant in my demand that they tolerate my disapproval of their behavior. The conversation was about to cross that nearly imperceptible line where conversation turns to obstinate argument but I remembered not to argue ourselves into a stalemate, lest we become intransigent and she stare me into oblivion again as my previous mentor had done.

Rather, I very respectfully asked to simply be released from her. She graciously agreed and told those with us that if they wanted, they could go with me. Two other women, one black and one white smiled and joined me. As we were leaving a third woman rushed to join us, but it was not clear that she had resolved the issues within herself or what her motives might be. However we welcomed her and went on our way. Somehow it was made clear that I had become their mentor.

We formed our community together and went about practicing our beliefs. We were not cut off from God and though it was revealed to me that I would again some day “die”, there was no longer any pursuing enemy and I would not be killed at their hands. I would not enter the next life with any great honors but neither would I be tortured and killed at the hands of the enemy. I was now free. My heart was joyous and light and we lived in peace while our community grew together.

The dream ended.

I awoke to a certain peace that I have felt a few other times in my life. Sometimes when already fully awake and other times on awakening after a similarly spiritual dream in which I am visited by an angel or two in the guise of this or that character who explains something to me (which I can never put into words upon waking) but that gives me a profound sense of peace that continues after I have awoken.

"evil is not bad in itself, but only in its relation to man. It is wrong to look with desire upon a woman; but it is divine to admire her beauty: it is wrong only insofar as man does not regard beauty as a manifestation of God, but misconceives it, and thinks of it in reference to himself." paraphrase of the founder of hasidic Judaism - Israel ben Eliezer