OK, prepare yourself for quite a ride. On this last day of the year I awoke this morning with a vivid dream; something I haven't done in quite a while. Ever wonder what priests dream, well here you go.
I was in Centreville, but it wasn't exactly like St. James. I was there visiting, on my day off, as Allison was taking the service (yes the famous Allison who is a Lay Reader and is taking service tomorrow). He did the service but didn't preach. So I think I got up and preached. Later in the dream I would question whether we had the Eucharist or even if I preached. This was some strange conversation I had with Allison in the next screen and I was really worried that I couldn't remember. What I did do was get up and give a blessing; putting on a green stole... though it was white... the green stole was right there on a table next to the pulpit: odd. Even odder was the fact that the congregation had a number of clerics in the congregation. Chris Hayes, David Perks and Julie Armstrong, my predecessors in St. Paul's River, Edmund Laldin and his wife, who is also a cleric, both live in Newfoundland.
The next scene switched to Florenceville but a much much larger church, more like St. Paul's Lachine (holds 500 and is modern with a wide chapel in the back of the church). I was in the upstairs vestry and an unknown woman was doing the altar clothes according to the old BCP calendar. I showed her the new one and she stormed out, apparently quitting. Nancy, a real parishioner, was concerned that I upset this woman. I explained to her and another parishioner that this day was the Naming of Jesus and should be festive, thus white, "like Christmas." She agreed and I went into the sanctuary. All the furniture was moved (the area was vast in comparison to the real Church of the Good Shepherd). The altar was moved to the North side, up against the wall, with no candles lit, with the prayer desk facing east nearer the congregation. Everything else was organized but all over the sanctuary.
In my dream I figured that this was the way this unknown woman set up for Morning Prayer. Again Allison was to take service. I walked to the back of the church, in my black suit like before in Centreville, where I met a young adult choir. And as I walked past the pews I noticed many many people I did not know: it was quite full. Not full but more than normal... say 150. The choir was getting ready and wore the same choir gowns and I made a complimentary comment but noticed one person with a black collar... I didn't know the individual. Then as these new people moved on, a fancy British choir master arrived, with an understudy. Aubrey, a much beloved sides person, a real member, wanted him to play. The choir preferred their own amateur director. As I moved on, I passed under a see through screen at the back of the church, moving from north to south. On the east side was the congregation and on the other side was yet another see through screen where the chapel was where the choir gathered. At the end of my walk (south side) was an enterance from a very vast hallway, leading to a great hall, which I never got to.
It was as I approached the door that I thought, in my dream, that all these people were there for Allison and not me. So I thought I should get my vestments on. I did (suddenly like dreams are) but they were not normal. I think I had a black cassock on with a see through surplice or chasuble. Then I thought no I shouldn't take the service for I am off this weekend. So I left the church down that parish hall way.
I got about halfway down when I reached an area with three steps up in a kind of corner where I was approached suddenly by five figures. All were obviously clerics, but in strange vestments. All were wearing tall hats, like orthodox cylinders, but with a white under cap as from the 16th century. The hats and vestments were purple and pinks and very ornate with gold and black. I somehow knew these were the conservative Anglican breakaway church. There were all men one was tall, another shorter and two midgets. The last man was there for me! It was an intervention group to convert me and this man was someone I knew very very well (I refrain from mentioning who he is but my parents would know since he's known me since I was at least 11: think evangelical).
So this crew met me in the hall and yet didn't really say much. I remember being anxious because I knew their intension. My friend introduced me to the midgets and one had a metal hand which I shook and got a shock from. This fellow didn't like me touching him and flinched back. I wondered who the leader was, when I asked if the tall one led them, another tall figure came forward and was in red and not the purple or pink. I think he was their bishop. I didn't recognize him and he did not speak.
After these niceties we moved into a side chapel that was dark and cramped. My friend told me, as we entered, one was Pentecostal and to watch his eyes as if to indicate some type of positive, or convincing, spiritual change or sign. When I approached to see the eyes I saw the same midgets behind a sort of TV screen, but much more like an arcade with video games. I saw the eyes of these men red and glowing like Darth Maul in Star Wars, it was unsettling, yet I banged on the screen and said it was all tricks and indeed the eyes immediatly went normal.
I then knew that they were about to begin to argue their point. All along I knew in my dream that this break away group was not right, and I felt very very uncomfortable in their presence. I stopped and said before they started that I needed to get something. I ran to a shelf where I looked for a bible. I couldn't find one I liked but took a large oversized NT Jerusalem Bible. I returned wondering if I should leave and get a smaller bible but refrained for embarrassment. And then we began.
The argument was Scripture against Scripture. I honestly don't recall their argument but I know my response clear as day, "you are Peter and on this rock I will build my Church." I kept saying this at every opportunity and then I ended my dream with Peter denying Jesus in the courtyard, saying that the Church is built on the weakness of humanity and yet it is strong through Christ. Peter was weak and human but the Church is built on him and our frailties. Thus I figure my argument was the Church is flawed and you can't make it perfect: spliting is wrong and misleading.
I awoke and after 30 mins still remembered my dream detail by detail. I told Sherry and thought I would amuse you all with this tale. Now my mom has said throughout my life, "Friday night dreamt, Saturday told, sure to come true, no matter how old."
I can't wait to see this come true!?! Hope you had fun looking into my subconscious mind; isn't it fun being me... and isn't Claritin a great drug.
Happy New Year!
