"Everybody's looking for something"

 “Sweet Dreams Are Made of This”

Mark 4:1-9

Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

January 21, 2024 - Manhattan Mennonite Church

I don’t know if our family is the only odd one that does this, but ever since our kids were very little, we’ve often talked about our dreams when we wake up in the morning. When they were tiny I would say, “Good morning! How was your sleep? Did you have any dreams last night?” And now that they’re older I will still sometimes tell them about a particularly interesting dream I had. 

This happened just a couple weeks ago. I had this very long, detailed dream that was sticking with me throughout my morning routine. At breakfast, I was describing it to my husband and then one of my kids walked past and said, “Everything in that dream is oversized.” I was like, “Huh?” And he repeated, “Everything in that dream you’re describing is unusually large - oversized.”

“Huh,” I said. “That’s a very interesting observation. I wonder what that means?”

Before he mentioned it, I hadn’t noticed that pattern, but he was definitely right. It turns out sharing our dreams as a family isn’t just good entertainment, it can also be really useful. While the dreamer is the only one who can truly make an honest interpretation of their own dream, it seems to me that dreams are richer when shared with others. Our trusted companions often notice things we don’t - and in sharing those observations or questions, they help us listen more deeply to our own dreams. 

Of course, even with the helpful observations of others, we still might not know what a dream means. A dream rarely has just one interpretation. We can turn it this way and that. It may look different on Monday than it does on Tuesday. If it’s a recurring dream or theme, our understanding of it may change over the years. And what we think about a dream when we first wake is often very different from the conclusion we may come to hours or weeks later. 

I think this is one of the reasons some people struggle with dreams. Or find them to be a bit too “woo woo.” Another reason people don’t necessarily want to work with dreams is because they don’t have them or can’t remember them. This is frustrating when you’re interested in them, right? Luckily, there are actually techniques to nurture what Robert Johnson calls “active imagination”  - entering into a meditative, dreamlike state while you’re still awake. These daydreams can be just as interesting to explore as nighttime dreams. You can learn more about that in Johnson’s short and helpful book, Inner Work: Using Dreams and Active Imagination for Personal Growth.

Whether they happen in the day or night, dreams invite us to become a bit more comfortable with ambiguity. To trust that the first answer might not be the only one. To lean into uncertainty and weirdness. It’s not always comfortable. 

I think our ancestors were more uncomfortable with ambiguity than we are. They didn’t have an expectation of understanding or controlling everything, you know? They lived in a world with a lot of mysteries and had to get comfortable with that - for better or worse. 

Maybe this is why there are so many dreamers in our sacred stories. Of the 21 dreams in the Bible, several belong to kings, perhaps suggesting that leaders would be wise to pay attention to the messages that come from the Spirit or the collective unconscious when making decisions. There are TWO famous dreamers in the Bible named Joseph: he of the fabulous technicolor dreamcoat and, later, the father of Jesus. Interestingly, only one dreamer is a woman: Pontius Pilate’s wife. And she sees no ambiguity in her dream. She sends word to her husband that he needs to “have nothing to do with ‘that innocent man’ (Jesus)” because she’s been greatly troubled by a nightmare about him. 

Pilate’s wife and some of the other dreamers in the Bible had certainty - but, more often, in our own lives, exploring our dreams can leave us with questions. 

A few months ago, I was able to attend a retreat at the Sophia Center in Atchison where we did nothing but work with our dreams for several days. I knew it would be good before I went, because the facilitator was someone I had already learned a lot from during my three-year training to become a spiritual director. Our teacher, Bernie Graves, is the one who opened my eyes to a fascinating thing that I can’t unsee: parables are a lot like dreams. 

Really, it’s true. The next time you come across Jesus telling a parable, ask someone to read it to you. Close your eyes and listen. It sounds just like someone describing a dream. “Listen. Okay, so it was really weird. There was this farmer. I don’t know who he was. Just a farmer. He was walking along a path and, as he walked, he was sowing seeds. Some of the seeds fell down on the pathway he was walking along. And then there were these birds. They came along and just ate the seeds up. But he kept walking and some of the seeds he was throwing down went off the path and onto some ground that was kind of rocky. Those seeds grew up quickly and were burned by the sun. They didn’t last either. Then there were MORE seeds that landed under some thorns. Why were there thorns on the ground? I don’t know. That’s just what happened. They didn’t grow because the thorns were in the way. But then, finally, there were some seeds that he threw down on good soil. And those seeds grew like you wouldn’t believe. It was amazing to see!” 

You can do this with pretty much any parable. They sound like dreams. Which is maybe why we’re still talking about them today. Like dreams, parables don’t have a single interpretation. Like dreams, the meaning we take from parables shifts over time. Like dreams, parables are better-understood in community. And, like dreams, parables have a lot to teach us if we are brave enough to get uncomfortable and truly listen. 

The word parable means “throw alongside” which is exactly how parables teach us. They frequently put unexpected things together, or follow a pattern like the story of the seeds did - and in this “throwing alongside together”-ness we are invited into curiosity and learning. We become like the seeds scattered in the good soil. We grow. 

We can grow in a similar way by listening to those parable-like stories that visit us while we sleep. Whether you believe they come from God, neurons firing in your brain, the collective unconscious, YOUR unconscious, or all of the above - there’s no mistaking that dreams make fascinating teachers. 

Finding a way to intentionally listen to your dreams is as simple as keeping some kind of recording tool next to your bed - whether that’s a pen and paper or your cell phone. When you wake, before you begin your day, see if you can recall any dreams from the night before. Write down what you remember. Don’t try to interrogate at this point. Don’t follow your questions down rabbit trails. Just get the facts down - as strange or unclear as they might be. Like many spiritual practices, the more you do this, the easier it becomes. I’ve noticed that when I’m regularly trying to write my dreams down, I am able to more easily recall parts of them. 

There are numerous ways to work with your dreams and if you’d like some recommended reading or frameworks, let me know. Even better, if you have any interest in being a part of a dream group, please let me know. I’m posing this possibility in all three congregations. If there are 3 or 4 who are interested, I can connect you and share some resources to get you started. Like all the best stories (parables included), dreams really aren’t meant to be handled alone.

Whether you find companions to listen to your dreams or listen alone; 

Whether you are able to easily remember and write down your dreams or struggle to piece together much of anything at all most mornings; 

Whether you choose to listen to the dreams that come at night or learn how to nurture active imagination to listen to your daytime dreams; 

Whether you believe those dreams come to you from God, neurons firing in your brain, the collective unconscious, YOUR unconscious, or all of the above - you are invited to consider this practice of deep listening. 

Perhaps, like Jacob, you will one day wake from your rest and say to yourself, “Surely the Holy is in this place—and I did not know it!”

Thanks be to the Holy Dreamer who dreams within us still. Amen.