Dreams are an odd thing. Where do they come from? What do they mean? The last dream I had was a bit on the odd side. I don’t even know how to describe this dream but I will.
I was living in my grandparents’ old house with the same people I’m currently living with: Archbishop, vicar general and the parish priest. I have to note that this house is in the middle of no where and it’s about an 9 hour drive from where we currently live.
I was watching a bit of tv one evening while the guys were out doing things. This really tall guy knocked on the door so I answered. At first he seemed nice and we talked a bit but then he took out a gun and told me this was a robbery. He asked me where my guitar was so I pointed toward my room (this would of been the guest room in my grandparent’ house). I didn’t want to have to deal with this guy so whatever he asked I answered. Just as he was walking towards my room my Archbishop walks in the house and sees that I’m freaking out.
I point to toward my room and then he sees the guy. This guys screams like a little girl and runs downstairs and my Archbishop chases after him. While they were downstairs I started hearing noise in the laundry room. I started walking closer and closer to this room. I had to walk right beside the stairs and so I looked down and I see topless women protesting. It’s like they were having the time of their life in what we call the Bishop’s house. I kinda just face palmed and kept following the noise.
There were people in a closet, maybe 20 of them and I started lecturing them this isn’t how your parents raised you, you should know better…. And I could tell that they were really feeling bad about what was going on.
I heard another scream which sounded much like the first one and then I woke.
This dream felt so weird that when I woke up I felt like this tall guy was still in my room. I was facing the wall and wasn’t comfortable, I wanted to turn side but I was afraid to move out of fear that the tall guy would shoot me with his gun.
In this dream I saw my archbishop as a hero, he saved the day but as an archbishop, doesn’t he do that everyday? It really put him in a different light.
I told my archbishop about this dream and now he keeps telling me that he’s fighting the bad guys Archbishops don’t need guns to fight. I was struck by that. Here the clergy are well respected but it’s not the same respect as they would get in the city. You will see the priests having secret handshakes with everyone, you will see the priests out fishing. Heck, during the weekend I saw my archbishop fixing a car, he was wearing his overalls, covered in oil and was underneath the car.
Archbishops don’t need guns to fight, to me this meant that you don’t need to jump right into a fight but you first have to get to know the people. Just like one of the past rector of Cathedral here used to say you don’t attract flies with vinegar, use honey instead. Don’t be afraid to show love and talk about the joys of heaven, don’t concentrate on the fear of hell for His love is much strong than that.
Now, go fight the bad guys without guns and remember, He who lives by the sword dies by the sword. – Matt 26:52 Pick and know your fights.
My Catholic Living 🙂