Stained Glass

The week before I interviewed with the vestry of St. Paul's, I woke up in the middle of the night from this dream:

I am in a beautiful, ornate, candle-lit church.  The stained glass is everywhere--windows, light fixtures, door panels--and all of it intricately done.  I have brought a very small and cohesive group of people.  We have a strong sense of purpose in our presence here this morning, and we are deeply committed to this church and its congregation.  Arriving very early in the morning, before anyone might show up for services, we set to our work quickly and quietly.

We are breaking out all the stained glass in the building with sticks and rocks.

I want the people worshiping inside to see the outside world around them, the grimy reality of need and uncertainty.  I want the sun to shine in, the real and true light unchanged by colored glass.  This is not the first time I have done this, either.

Before long, others begin showing up to ready the church for the day.   I stop what I am doing as they walk in with shocked and angry expressions, and I stand firm in my place in the center of it all.  I am ready to accept my consequences from this community, and yet determined to continue in my mission.