Dream of: 28 October 1995 "Thy Will Be Done"

I was observing some men who had gathered together in a room for a party – I counted 14. As I gradually began to perceive the men were paired off in couples, I realized they were all gay. I was mostly intrigued because none of the men looked gay; there was nothing more odd about the men than the long hair and beards which a couple had. If I hadn't known the men were gay, I would have thought they were all normal.

***

Standing on a bus with a group of people, I became aware that a man stationed near me, whose long brown hair was pulled back in a pony tail, was gay. This man, as well as all the other people on the bus, was involved in a criminal court case which had many defendants. When the bus came to a halt, we all debarked and began walking together toward a group of buildings. As we all finally broke into a run toward the buildings, I realized one of the buildings must be the courthouse. Noticing the fellow with the pony tail was running along beside me, I asked him if he knew which building was the courthouse. When he said he thought it was the second building, we headed toward it.

By the time we reached the second building (which indeed was the courthouse), I knew that the fellow with the pony tail was my client, and that I was his attorney. I was defending him in the criminal case, and I knew he, along with many other people, had been accused of a murder in a case called the "Spence Murder." I was unsure if more than one person had been murdered, but I was positive my client was innocent and should be acquitted. Although I hadn't handled a criminal case in a long time, I felt confident I could do the job.

Many people were gathered around the judge's bench in the crowded courtroom. However as I proceeded toward the judge, the people made a path for me, allowing me to quickly reach the bench. The gray-haired judge looked in good health and appeared to have lost quite a bit of weight since the last time I had seen him. He seemed happy to see me and immediately held out his hand for me to shake. But when I grabbed his hand, I didn't get a good grip. I had to stop and use my other hand to move his thumb into place so we could exchange a firm handshake. As we shook hands, the judge's court reporter, Rhonda, walked up and gave me a genial greeting. I was happy to see both her and the judge again.

When I had first entered the courtroom, I had thought I had a criminal misdemeanor case to take care of in Schwille's court. But now I realized I would actually be trying the murder case in front of Schwille. In my hand was a card which showed that although I had been appointed by another judge to defend my client, Schwille would actually be the trial judge. As I handed the card to the clerk sitting at a desk next to the judge, I told Schwille I was here to represent a defendant in the Spence murder. I said that my client's name was Ray and that he was seated in the courtroom. Turning to the crowd of people in the courtroom, I hollered, "Ray," and my client stood up.

Schwille seemed impressed that I was handling a murder case. When I mentioned that this was the third case which I had tried before him, Rhonda overheard what I had said, and mentioned I had won the first two jury trials which I had tried in Schwille's court. It hadn't been my intention to be boastful, but I knew what she said was true.

The clerk handed me another card which gave the court date for the murder trial. Since I knew it generally took a long time for a case to come to trial in Schwille's court, I asked the judge if there was any chance my case would go to trial on the first setting. After he had indicated the first setting was highly unlikely, I turned and left.

My business in the courthouse finished, I walked outside and found myself on a street near what appeared to be the center of town. Tall mountains surrounded the town, which appeared to be tucked away somewhere in the mountains of Tennessee.

As I walked, I quickly became aware of something extremely unusual about this place: I had the strong feeling of something spiritual all around me. At first I thought I might be in the capital of Tennessee. Then I realized I wasn't in the actual capital, but in the spiritual capital.

All the buildings were constructed of wood and seemed to have been built in the last century. Although their facades displayed ornate carved designs, the buildings seemed in disrepair; some even seemed abandoned. I had the feeling that by law the buildings had to be maintained in their original form, that it was prohibited to alter their shape. Yet even though the buildings were run-down, they all seemed to have something palpably spiritual about them.

Straight ahead of me on the sidewalk was a disconcerting sight: a man was kneeling and praying, looking up to the sky with his hands folded in front of him. Dressed in rags, he sported long tangled hair and a lengthy beard. He resembled Yakov Bok (the central character in Bernard Malmud's novel The Fixer). I recalled that in the book, Bok was arrested and incarcerated for a murder which he hadn't committed.

This place astonished me, but even more overwhelming was what I was feeling. I could actually sense something spiritual all around me, as if the spirituality was in the buildings and the air itself. Slowly the palpable feeling began to take a more distinct form: music. At first I could barely hear the music, but gradually it grew in intensity. It was beautiful, overwhelming, enthralling. I had never heard such beautiful sounds. In the midst of the music, a beautiful, exquisite voice sang out, "Thy will be done."

I instantly understood what was being said. I knew the voice was talking of God's will, and my duty to do God's will. I felt overcome by emotion, almost ready to cry.

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