Thought for Today
Genesis 37:5 Once Joseph had a dream, and when he told it to his brothers, they hated him even more.
Psalm 126:1 When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream.
Matthew 1:20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.
Matthew 27:19 While he was sitting on the judgment seat, his wife sent word to him, "Have nothing to do with that innocent man, for today I have suffered a great deal because of a dream about him."
Do you dream? If you do, can you remember your dreams upon awakening? I have read that men and women have different dream experiences. Women dream in color and can often recall their dreams. Men dream in black and white and rarely remember their dreams (if true, how do we know we dream in black and white?).
When we wake up each morning, Greta usually shares her dreams with me. She remembers details. On those rare occasions I do remember my dreams, I share them with her, at least to the extent that I remember anything. This morning was no exception. I did remember that I had dreamed last night; and, I was able to remember at least part of my dream. It was of no special interest or significance; but, it did lead me to think a bit about dreams and faith.
Dreams, the sharing of them and the interpretation of them figure prominently in scriptures. For Joseph, sharing his dreams with his brothers got him thrown into a pit and sold into slavery. Later, in prison, sharing and interpreting the dreams of Pharaoh’s cupbearer were Joseph’s means of ultimately becoming a free and prominent official in the Egyptian government.
For a later Joseph, a dream where an angel of God appeared and spoke proved instrumental in the narrative of the Incarnation. Jesus’ earthly father disappears from that narrative soon after Jesus’ experience in the Temple in his youth; but, the adult Jesus reflects much of what he learned as an apprentice to Joseph the carpenter.
Especially during Lent, it is interesting to speculate how things might have worked out differently had Pilate listened to his wife! (A good policy for any and all husbands!) Certainly, God’s plan would have somehow been fulfilled; but, for Pilate and the Romans, things might have been better.
In scripture, dreams often indicate pivotal points in the narrative of our faith. For our ancestors-in-the-faith, Joseph’s sojourn in Egypt was instrumental in their survival as a people, in their ultimate slavery and in their Exodus. A pivotal point in a nomadic tribe ultimately becoming the nation of Israel. Two pivotal points, one when Joseph naively shared his dream with his brothers, another when he interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams about the fat and lean cattle.
Most of us, whether or not we dream or remember our dreams, have pivotal points in our lives. Some involve our material lives; but, some involve our spiritual lives. The poet Robert Frost even wrote a beloved poem about pivotal points, The Road Not Taken. The last stanza reads, “I shall be telling this with a sigh/Somewhere ages and ages hence:/Two roads diverged in a wood, and I - /I took the one less traveled by,/And that has made all the difference.”
Think about your dreams. Think about the points where your own life has faced the decision that confronted that poetic traveler. Two roads diverged; two paths were available for you to take. In a sense, faith is just such a pivotal point for all our lives. “Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
Dreaming or wide awake, we all are confronted with the choice, faith or pragmatic cynicism. Through faith, we can attain that assurance of things hoped for, that conviction of things not seen. Through faith in Jesus, through the living example of Jesus’ Incarnation, through his ministry and teaching . . . and especially through the empty tomb to which we look forward to celebrating Sunday.
Stay safe, have faith, trust God,
Pastor Ray