I just met the Lord in a dream

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I just saw my Lord, Jesus Christ, for the first time within conscious memory. In my dream He was with three European-looking men, all on the tall side, dressed in simple robes. Though one of them had a grey beard, his eyes twinkled with innocence and youthful eagerness to hear his Lord’s next words and follow His next steps. The setting was nondescript, except for the presence of a round white table. The Lord seemed to welcome me as a familiar friend that He saw often. I had a large book with me, from outside the mainstream Christian tradition: The Yoga Sutras, perhaps, the Bhagavad Gita, A Course in Miracles, or Swedenborg’s Heaven and Hell; seeing it, He nodded and smiled, as if to say “Yes, I know that book; it’s interesting and you’ll learn something from it.” He laid the book on the table top, took out a pen and signed His name in black ink on the cover, a big, strong, sprawling but simple signature in a script unknown to me. I laughed inwardly at the thought that I’d just been given the autograph of the Incarnation of God, but no one else in the world would recognize it for what it was. He then turned His attention to something else and I woke. My wife was just getting into bed. “I just saw the Lord in my dream,” I told her before falling back asleep.

And then I dreamed of Him again. This time He was in a dark grey suit, standing on the curb of a Manhattan sidewalk in a solemn attitude of prayer. Directly across the street, to the south, rose a tall, dark, forbidding-looking monolith. Among the followers around Him was a beautiful, fine-featured blond woman of about twenty who stuck out her elbow to display angry red burn-marks covering the upper half of the inner surface of her right forearm. I recognized them as nuclear radiation burns and felt grieved. Standing near me, my friend A.B. was on her cell phone, calling her teen-aged daughter at home in Queens Village. And then my alarm clock started to give its wake-up warble and I popped awake, only to discover that the alarm had gone off only in my dream. I took it as a signal to get up and waste no time in recording what I could remember of my dream-experiences.

There are dreams, and then there are dreams. I take this one, or rather these two, as carrying messages for me.

Now the first one is that I am indeed His disciple, and one loved by Him. I’d gone to bed unsure whether I were qualified, or called, to write an article on Christian discipleship for publication. The dream relieves my doubt. The second message is that, as I’ve put my study under His guidance, He trusts my discernment as I read widely among books purported to contain spiritual wisdom.

The third message is that He Himself is praying alongside us for a world that’s in deep trouble. My faith echoes Jesus’ words in John 16:33b: “Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” But those radiation burns on that young woman’s arm cry out for His healing now. 

I think that this may be the first time I’ve ever blogged about a message I’d received that seemed to have been only for me. But I make it public because something is telling me that it might speak to someone else, too.

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3 Responses to “I just met the Lord in a dream”

  1. Marshall Massey Says:

    Remarkable dreams, indeed: rich in contextual meaning. Thank you for sharing!

  2. Micah Bales (@micahbales) Says:

    Thanks for sharing this, John. The image of the woman with the radiation burns is striking and disturbing. You say this felt like a private revelation, but I wonder if there might indeed be a message here for all of us.

  3. Thy Friend John Says:

    Thank you, Marshall and Micah. What I didn’t feel ready to share when I wrote it was the sense I had, on waking, that the dark monolith facing Jesus in my dream represented the “abomination of desolation, standing where it ought not” mentioned in Mark 13:14 and the other synoptics (following Daniel 9:27, 11:31 and 12:11).

    Of course the Biblical abomination of desolation, if it’s a figure of true prophecy, could refer to something that happened long ago, like the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 C.E. or its rebuilding in 130 as Aelia Capitolina, a Roman city full of temples to Jupiter and Venus and the emperor, from which Jews, or any other circumcised males, were excluded on pain of death till some time in the 4th century. And I can’t help thinking of that abominable wall to keep the Palestinians out as an abomination of desolation in the Jerusalem of our own day, a blasphemous temple to the god of cruelty. But of course I don’t know what the Holy Spirit may have had in mind when It inspired the writers of scripture.

    But no matter: today we have a _de facto_ abomination of desolation all over the world, wherever the individual’s love of power and control, divorced from a tender sense of organic connection to God, the human family and the rest of creation, finds expression in debt-slavery, strip-mining, frankencrops and drone warfare.

    In this sense the fountain of death now spewing from the Fukushima power plant, gradually poisoning all life in the Pacific Ocean and being covered up with government lies, is a perfect expression of the abomination of desolation that’s now threatening to suffocate humanity in its own industrial dung and cook the planet.

    It may have been my troubled awareness of the continuing disaster of Fukushima, which could so easily replicate itself at Indian Point or Three Mile Island or Diablo Valley, or any of the hundred nuclear power plants now operating in the United States without any agreed-on place to bury their mounting heaps of radioactive waste, that made me dream of a young woman displaying radiation burns on one of the tenderest parts of her flesh.

    “Come down, and sit in the dust, O virgin daughter of Babylon, sit on the ground: there is no throne,” wrote Isaiah (47:1): “Thou shalt no more be called tender and delicate.” I recall with horror that the United States, during its two Gulf Wars, wantonly covered the soil of ancient Babylon with depleted uranium dust because its engineers found this toxic and radioactive metal ideal for shell casings. A terrible reckoning is surely coming, not to be attributed to the supposed wrath of God, who is Love and Goodness Itself, but to our own readiness to “do evil, that good might come of it” (Romans 3:8). May the Lord give us the spirit of repentance, and quickly: in Jesus’ name I ask this; Amen.

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