What Is Your Dream?

What we are really after is not, like our forebears, the favor of a famous prostitute, but social status, money in the bank, college degrees, a divorce certificate and notice of early retirement.

By Fan Xue-de

About 8 o'clock one autumn morning in 1995 I had a dream. In the dream was a student whom I had taught in China over ten years before. Actually he was not only one of my students, he was also a good friend of mine. As I had not seen him for over seven years, I was really excited to see him again, even if it was only in a dream. In the dream, I recall, he had not changed much in appearance, he was still the handsome young man he had always been. Without wasting time on general greetings, I began preaching the Gospel to him.

I told him how Jesus loved all people and how he had suffered our punishment on the cross because of his love for every one of us. I told him how deeply moved I was by Jesus' words as he was being nailed to the cross, his prayer for those who were putting him to death. He prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." I also told him how we are all lost and how our sins have separated us from God.

I felt happy about what I had said and thought I had expressed it quite well; he seemed to be listening too, just as he used to listen so attentively to my lectures. When I had finished talking, I asked him what he thought about it all, but before he could reply my dream was interrupted.

I woke up. My three-year-old son was crying.

That morning I had been so tired that I had simply lain down on the couch with my son and we had both fallen asleep. Then I had this dream in which I was trying to preach the Gospel to my student. Then my little boy had started crying and woke me up.

I was a bit annoyed at my son interrupting my dream so that I could not go on chatting with my friend, and I also had a feeling of sadness at how time had flown and here I was entering middle age. It had been seven or eight years since I had last seen this student of mine in Beijing and over the last two or three years we had even lost contact. Teachers often find that their good students are a long way away. The better they are, the farther away they go. It is a sad fact of life that as soon they graduate, they just disappear.

When I visited China in 1994, I had tried to contact this student, but was unsuccessful. I made several long distance calls to the school where he worked but either there was nobody there to answer the phone, or even if someone did pick up the phone, they usually hung up before I could explain who I was looking for.

As I sat there on the couch thinking about this friend, I found myself asking, " I wonder where you are now, my friend? How have you been lately? It must be about eight years now since we last saw one another. How come we can only meet up in dreams?"

A feeling of melancholy overcame me as I stared out of our tiny window. There were the green trees just as they had always been. People were talking out there, but none of them spoke in my mother tongue.

Then it occurred to me that this dream of mine was really strange, for I hardly ever had dreams and whenever I did dream, I usually could not remember any details. I almost never dreamed in broad daylight, let alone preach the Gospel to people in my dreams. That day, however, I had not only had a dream but I could remember the details quite clearly, including my talking to him about the Gospel. I asked myself, is this something that God is wanting me to do, to preach the Word to him? But I immediately ruled out the possibility. It would be quite impractical! Even if I wanted to talk to him about the Gospel, where would I find him anyway?

Yet the more I thought about this dream the more mysterious it became. I was so bemused that I decided to give up. 'The secret things belong to the Lord'. How much do we know?

So I prayed a silent prayer, "Dear Father, do you really mean me to preach the Word to him? But I don't even know where he is! So what am I supposed to do? But if this is your will, then please bring him into my life." I finished up, "I pray in Jesus' name, Amen!"

During the next few days I did a lot of thinking about dreams. Chinese thinkers often compare our lives to dreams. Zhuang-zi's Dreaming Butterfly story has left a deep impression on many a confused heart. "Once upon a time, Zhuang Zhou dreamed about becoming a butterfly, a beautiful graceful butterfly. He was so busy being a butterfly that he lost all awareness of who he really was. It was not until he woke up that he realized he was still his old self." This confusion is more than just a sigh of regret at the transience of our lives. It is a mixture of reality and fantasy, a confusion that is quite common in daily life. A lot of people do not behave like their real selves. They treat reality as fantasy and fantasy as reality, until they can no longer distinguish between reality and fantasy. Hence the saying "Life is a dream".

I always remember Du Mu's poem, "Ten years of my life may have passed by like a dream, but I have managed to win the favor of the famous prostitute." People may laugh at the poet's lecherous thoughts, but I like his frankness and honesty. Indeed, we all have our own ten-year-long dreams. We have dreams of fame, of wealth, of power, of embracing our friends' wives, of being flattered. But we are different in that what we are after is not the favor of famous prostitutes; instead we are looking for social status, for money in the bank, college degrees, a divorce certificate and a notice of early retirement. In the end, how many of us can distinguish between our dreams and reality?

Around the time of my graduation from college, Freudianism had become a hot topic. I had been really excited when I learned that dreams had quite profound meanings. When I was giving lectures on morality I used to speak confidently about Freudianism. I wrote Freud's key for interpreting dreams on the board: Dreams are the realizations of our longings --. All the students simply stared at me. Then I continued writing - for the satisfaction of our repressed sexual desires. So here was the Freudian formula: Dreams are realizations of our longings for the satisfaction of our repressed sexual desires. Some students lowered their heads, either feeling awkward about being looked at or awkward about listening.

But I was really enjoying myself. In the school where I taught I was a Leftist. In fact, the school had a strong tradition of Leftism. In its twenty years of history, this was perhaps the first time a teacher had talked seriously about sex in a political class. This was the reason that during a later political movement I was the object of severe criticism by political leaders. But I didn't care. I believed the criticisms were without merit. How could people be so ignorant about Freudianism?

Who can claim that their selves in reality are more real than themselves in dreams? I find myself closer to my true self in a dream than I am at a political studies class. In his dreams a sinner dares to commit sins with no inhibitions. There are dreams that I am ashamed even to talk about - and what about my self in these dreams? Who is that self in my dreams? What makes me continue to mess around in those cesspools of wickedness? Why does wickedness make me excited and satisfied somehow and yet it also makes us remorseful and fearful?. I want to say no, but I actually say yes. Where does evil come from? Why does it come and go as if outside my control, and yet at the same time it reflects my own true self which is normally hidden even in broad daylight?

When I wake up, I don't recognize myself any more. I am lost, lost in my own confusion and wickedness. During those sleepless nights, this dim lostness is all I can see. I hate this dimness because it is so narrow and wretched. My blurred vision is confined to within these four walls.

What is dream? What is reality?

And who can distinguish dream from reality?

The day after I had that strange dream, my life went on as usual. The earth revolved on its axis as usual. The sun rose in the east as usual. On the third day it was the same. Then on the fourth day something happened. At three or four o'clock that afternoon I went to the mailbox as usual to get my mail. As I glanced through the letters, my eyes were transfixed and I stood agape. No, this is impossible! I saw a letter addressed to me - and it was from the student I had seen in my dream! Then I noticed the return address at the upper left corner of the envelope. It was in the United States!

How had he managed to get my address? I had moved house, so how did he know my new address? With no time to try to work it all out the mystery, I could only exclaim, "Oh God! Oh God!"

As I held my student's letter, I suddenly felt that God was no longer far away. God was no longer "he", but "you". I was hearing 'your' very voice.

Back indoors I immediately picked up the phone. When I heard the first "hello" from the other end, I knew it was him. He too was very excited to hear my voice. " Do you know that I had a dream about you three days ago? I even tried to preach the Gospel to you. That must have been at roughly the same time you were writing the letter or posting it!"

"Really?"

"I'm positive."

"Well, what a coincidence!"

"Do you really think it was coincidence? You're a science student, and a math whiz too. Do you believe it's possible? What are the probabilities?"

We both fell silent. Then I went on to say to him, "God told me to tell you the Gospel. God is calling you."

That was four years ago. The dream has kept lingering in my memory and I shall never forget it. It is yet another reminder that God exists. And that is why I am writing about this dream, in the hope that those who dream may awake.

The author came from Liao-ning. He is now a free minister in Chicago, the United States. He is the author of Why I did not want to be a Christian