A Late-Autumn Night’s Dream
I dreamed of an old white clapboard church somewhere for sale that I got for a song, a song I tell you. It had wooden guts: pews, pulpit, communion table, modesty rail; all rough-hewn and tagged with buffed brass plates etched with the names of saints dead but not forgotten. Two or three friends showed up and we swept the uneven floors and lit a candle in the vestibule so the scent of bitter orange might woo them in. And it did. Folks came like it was Christmas, traveling together in bunches. Once everyone had arrived a little girl said what do we do? and a lady stepped out of the shadows, boy she cut a fine figure not because she’d planned it that way but evidently because God did, and she opened a Bible illustrated by Barry Moser and began to read from Genesis and you could have heard a pin drop. I tell you it was something else. When she finished a young war vet asked is that true? and she said I believe it is, and he said thank you. Then twin brothers held up mandolins and said let’s sing and so we did, songs no one knew at first but the more they played the more we remembered. People were singing and some started crying, not because they felt sad but satisfied. Then for some reason everyone looked at me, like I knew what to do. So I slipped on a red wool jacket and walked outside and started ringing a salvation bell. As the people left I reached into a bucket and gave them money, not too much but just enough to tide them over, like that scene in Its A Wonderful Life where George saves the Building and Loan. A teenage girl was the last to leave and she asked me why we didn’t eat the bread and drink the wine? and I said the first thing that popped into my head: We’re gonna take this slow. She said okay. She walked just a few steps farther then turned and asked what do you call this place? Again I said the first thing that came to mind: This is the Church of the Woeful Countenance. She said you know I’ve dreamed of this. I watched her and all of them walk home in different directions, many of them holding hands in long lines like when you play red rover. I left the candle burning and the front door ajar, I wasn’t afraid. Then I woke up, rested, with tears in my eyes.
I feel like I just woke up too from a beautiful dream. Thanks!
Beautiful Dreamer…..
now that, my friend, is deep church. I like your dreams.
you dreamt a woodwonders dream. those are the best!
“We’re gonna take this slow.” Amen. Beautiful.
I’ve just awakened, as well, with tears in my eyes.
Such a dream. SUCH a dream. Thank you for dreaming it, thank you for writing it. I’ve done a little bit of work with dreams and their meanings and this one? Rich and ripe with layers of wonder. Thank you so much.