Dream: My Very Mysterious and Best Ever Teacher

In my dream we’re way back in a class again, at the undergraduate level, and thinking from the get-go that I can handle anything they could require of me here. We’re hearing the introductory remarks of a new Professor. The smell of that dull dark-green college classroom was hanging in the air. It was an old institution that I didn’t quite recognize but had something about it that seemed familiar. We were at the beginning of the fall term: it was 1975. On my left is my old roommate, we’re in the middle of the front row, which is really odd to say the least. Robin actually wasn’t even with me that year, which adds intrigue to the space/time continuum. I had no clue what course I was taking. I was just there.

              The key figure in the dream is this Professor. My memory is a bit vague about his looks, but here’s the thing: his presence carried something remarkable that could be felt. He was pleasant and amiable in manner and wasn’t quoting chapter and verse from any text. Rather I perceived he was bringing truth to light by his stories. But even his words weren’t the point about the man. It was rather this aura he had, his comportment, which worked strangely upon me. And I could tell this was a perfect older gentleman yet fit, but couldn’t put a finger on his age, who could somehow mute his own brilliance. He had longer golden hair, which was surprising, and was well dressed, and never looked down at his notes even once, being master of his material.

              The longer the class went on my draw to him only increased: this is the main point about the dream. The feeling I had about him was so good, really amazing. But here’s the weird thing: my perception about him was the only thing working in me. I couldn’t seem to speak. I couldn’t seem to hear, and I couldn’t remember anything concrete that he said. I couldn’t even remember his name. As soon as he gave it I forgot it. His assignments instantly vanished from my stupefied mind. I asked Robin, What is this man’s name?  He mumbled something but not at me. What’re our requirements? He wrote something down in one short sentence, ripped it off his note pad, but didn’t hand it to me, so I reached for it but instantly lost it. It seemed that I was invisible to my friend, like he didn’t really know I was next to him. And the Professor paid no mind of me. Even so, I knew in the depths of my soul that I had to speak with him. It made no sense. I was desperate because I knew he had something profound to impart to me.

              Class ended. Everyone left, including the Teacher. I had tried, but I couldn’t get to him in time to catch him. I was seated directly in front of him, and I couldn’t catch him? I couldn’t even speak. It was like I could hardly move, like an invalid, with feet stuck to the ground. I finally got out the door but was instantly lost in the building. It took forever to get out. I don’t know how, but somehow I knew where he lived. I drove to his house. When I got there he lived in a grand old home where ancient elms spread a canopy over the street. I notice he’s going out the back door to his driveway and takes off in his car. But there’s an obstruction on his sidewalk, like an ornate wooden playhouse life-sized; it stopped me and I couldn’t figure out how to get by it. He’s about to leave and I can’t even get one word out of my stupid mouth.  It’s so pathetically frustrating. This is how my dream ends. In reality I had rushed out of bed to write it down, I’m in my skivvies, I’m shivering, and realize I’ve been dreaming it over and over again.

Interpretation

              As you can see, I’m kind of worked up about all this. So, it seems to me that there are two main riddles to solve: 1) Who is this mysterious Professor? And 2) Why am I so handicapped, stuck in slow-motion?

              The Mysterious Professor: This is so important to get this right because he’s the star of the dream, the one who gives me so much hope, yet he didn’t say a thing to me or even acknowledge my existence. He’s the one I must have a conversation with; about what, only he knows. The drive to have just five minutes with him is like no other chase I’ve ever been on, like no other yearning in my life.

              Clearly I now know this Teacher is none other than the Holy Spirit. This could present a problem like, Jesus was incarnated; are you saying that the Spirit took on flesh? Well, no. It’s just a dream. But the Spirit of God has all the components of personhood, of Godhood. I mean personality. He is God Almighty, the Holy Ghost. Ok, that explains some craziness about my need to connect with him. But in my dream I didn’t know who he was, only this holy draw that gripped me. This revelation came from prayer and discussions after I woke up, days later. Woke up? It feels like the dream is still upon me.

              It is written where Jesus said, “But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you” (John 14:26). So the Holy Spirit is my Teacher.

              My Handicap is simply me. My inabilities just got magnified in the dream to show me that there was an issue. It is not some external evil slowing me down. It’s me. There is an obstruction in the way that I must remove. The Holy Spirit will elude me until I deal with this issue. This is why I could not link up with him in the dream. He would not have it. For example, he takes it personally if we lie to him (Acts 5:4), or if we tempt him to lie (Acts 5:9), or if we grieve him (Eph. 4:30). We can make the Holy Spirit to know sorrow and sadness. Think of that. 

              A handicap took hold on me because I got deceived by Satan. I valued scholarship more than the work of the Holy Spirit. I got enticed to present the Gospel in an intellectually impressive manner, thinking that rationally sound preaching would get the job done. It seemed so important to keep furthering my education. The love of learning is a good thing and that wasn’t the problem. It was my leaning into my skills that grieved the Spirit. So what happened was, in my pursuit of a higher degree in seminary, I was struggling with the intellectualism and finally was cleanly rejected out of the program.

              I was told that I lacked the analytical skills to be at this level of study. That rejection fueled the passion to be intellectual. And in that hurt I had pushed the Holy Spirit to the background in my life. So in my dream the Spirit of God would not be sought by me because of how little I valued him. I have been blind to this sin for forty years! I had repressed the Spirit’s conviction. All this was buried deep inside. But now, in my dream I saw the awesome value of the Holy Spirit. I yearned for him. Like the prodigal son in Jesus’ parable, for the first time in forever I knew what to do. I must repent first before God of my sin. This is why the Holy Spirit could not take me into his communion (II Cor. 13:14). Sin is so deceptive.

              Years ago when I was a boy Jesus gloriously saved me, and I was baptized into Christ. Eleven years after that Jesus baptized me into the Holy Spirit. Tongues came with the Spirit. All this was awesome. I guess I thought I had arrived. But I knew deep down that I had missed something. It‘s this: the last thing Jesus said in Luke’s Gospel was, “And behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you: but tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power from on high” (Luke 24:49). I knew this verse, was drawn to it, but had only lived moments of it over many years. I missed ‘being endued with power’ like we read of in Acts 2 or Romans 15. But in my dream I was getting on the trail to find it.    

Intellectualism messed me up. Here’s how Paul dealt with the intellectualism of his time:

           “And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God. For I was determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling. And my speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power: That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God” (I Cor. 2:1-5).

 Higher education screwed me up. See how Paul ‘had confidence in the flesh’ from his education:

“But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ, and be found in him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith: That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death” (Phil. 3:7-10). And: “For I will not dare to speak of any of those things which Christ hath not wrought by me, to make the Gentiles obedient, by word and deed, Through mighty signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God; so that from Jerusalem, and round about unto Illyricum, I have fully preached the gospel of Christ” (Rom. 15:18-19).

              More pointedly, the dream awakened or exploded in my heart that I desperately need a real, uncompromised connection, a relational bond that is based in truth, with the Spirit of God. It’s like this: as an auto mechanic I know that stamped pistons are ok, but forged pistons are much stronger and can take a lot of heat and pressure. The Holy Spirit wants me and him to forge a bond of friendship that is so strong and deep and gripping. Then an authentic encounter can happen between us, not dependent on my scholarship, which for me became a handicap. With that offence out of the way, I’ll be “He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches” (Rev. 2:7).

              Finally, the dream showed me that I must have a conversation, an encounter, an empowerment that will teach and lead me in what I must know. I know my Teacher has a critically important word to speak into my life right now. And the Lord gave me this dream because he wants me to get over my pride and into his empowerment. Way too many people are not being saved and healed. The adventure continues while I ‘tarry’ as the Apostles did so long ago ‘for the promise of the Father for the power.’            

Tim Halverson