Dream of: 08 August 1996 "Defending A Church"

when faith is attacked

defend the truth if you can

count on heaven's help

I was with a group of people in a church – your basic small one-story brick affair, an aisle down the middle with pews on both sides. The other people and I, all members of the church, were preparing for battle. We were expecting the church to be attacked and we were trying to decide how to defend it.

We didn't have to wait long: the attackers soon began streaming through the front door. We began pushing the attackers, trying to force them back out. We formed a semi-circle around the front door, trying to fend off the people coming in. I was at the forefront and I appeared to be the leader of our group. I moved about our group from place to place, trying to plug up holes and lend encouragement. Finally I took off my shirt. I had a strong firm torso – the body of a 20 year old - but I wished I was more muscular.

The battle increased in intensity. It looked as if people might even be killed. The people attacking us were an amorphous lot; I seemed to feel that Jews, Muslims and Christians were all mixed in together. I imagined that Ron Richhart (a businessman who used to send me legal clients), dressed in a brown suit and white shirt, might be among the attackers. I imagined doubling my right fist and punching him right in the face.

The battle widened out to the front of the church, where there was a large field where it looked as if a crop – corn or wheat – had recently been harvested, so only the brown stalks were left close to the ground. My group spread out like a tidal wave across the field, drowning the opposition under us. I had a small black handgun in my hand. Some inherent contradiction seemed to be here – that I would be using a gun to fight over a church. Perhaps I had made a mistake by getting so involved in this church.

Besides that, there were so many of the enemy; and I had the feeling that more were even hiding under the ground and would spring up all around us. Although we were strong, I thought we were outnumbered and that we must fail. It was clear to me that if I didn't escape, I would soon be either killed or captured. I saw only one hope. On the edge of the field was a forest. I didn't know if the enemy was hiding in the trees or not, but that looked like my only hope. If I could just make it to the trees, perhaps I could escape into the forest.

Commentary of January 30, 2015

I view the "attackers of the church" in this dream much the same way that I view dishonesty on the Dream Journal. Just as the attackers of the church in this dream made me feel as if, "Perhaps I had made a mistake by getting so involved in this church," so does dishonesty on the Dream Journal sometimes make me wonder about the spiritual purpose of the Dream Journal, and whether I have made a mistake by getting so involved therewith.

The last paragraph of the above dream almost mirrors the defeatist feeling I sometimes have when I see the Dream Journal attacked by dishonesty.

Yet I cannot - in good conscience - escape, the way I thought of doing in this dream. For me, in the present, the Dream Journal fulfills a need which seems similar to the need which churches fulfill for their members. Just as church-goers may grow closer to the Creator of the Universe, so may members of the Dream Journal grow closer to the Creator of Dreams.

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