Jesus Dream 04/29/05

            Today I dreamed that I was at a beachfront where people were crucified by the Romans, and there were crosses on the beach, and a pier in the water with people underneath the pier in the water.  I was behind the crosses and looking out to sea.  The people in the water were watching the crucifixions going on, and as I looked to the crosses, I could see the holes where spikes or nails had repeatedly been driven into them where the person’s feet would be.  No crosses had people on them, but to the far right one person was being prepared and there was one Roman Centurion watching over.  This place was not on top of a hill, but looking out to sea, it looked as if it were uphill from the water but really was downhill from the rest of the land.

            Suddenly, the scene became that of a history book, and the crosses I had been looking at were pictures in the book and there were a variety of pictures of different methods or theories of how crucifixions were done, including pictures of the people being hanged and pinned to the crosses.  Most were large poles in the earth, and the part where the hands were tied or pinned was a separate piece that was raised and attached to the pole, forming a cross.  Then to the right was the man being prepared, and everything was real life again, no longer was the scene a picture in a book.

            The man being prepared was Jesus.  Everyone but the centurion and I had left.  The centurion went a distance away to overlook something else, but everyone that was in the water under the pier had disappeared.  Whoever had prepared Jesus had only done half the work, and they had not prepared his hands…in the dream, ropes were to be put around the wrists, and the ropes would be tied to the cross.  No one had put ropes on Jesus’ wrists, and there was no rope in sight, meaning nails would have to be driven through his hands or wrists.  The centurion had pointed to two pieces of wood with which to pin Jesus’ hands and used a shoe to hammer something into another cross (instructing me how to go about it), but I did not want to do it.  One piece was flimsy and thin, like a pencil, and I was sure it would not hold Jesus’ weight and might injure him further.  The other was a larger, dulled piece of wood point, which I thought would be too dull to pierce the skin and definitely hurt Jesus more.  I leaned in to speak to Jesus.

            As my forehead touched Jesus’, I said, “Forgive me, Lord, but he wants me to use these on you, but I think they’ll hurt more than necessary and be more trouble than for what you need to do.  I think I have some large sharp nails in my garage.”  Jesus looked back at me and said, “Need to do?”  He said it softly and with a hint of teaching in his voice, as if I were missing a point.  I replied with uncertainty in my voice, “Plan to do?”  He just looked at me, sitting up on his cross.  His feet were already connected (I don’t know if they were nailed or just tied, but he was immobile from the waist down).  I was hesitant and didn’t want Jesus to go through this ordeal, but I felt pressured by the absent centurion to get the materials ready so Jesus could be crucified (not that I would be doing the nailing).   I also felt partially responsible.  I saw the look in Jesus’ eyes and noticed that his back had been covered in bandages from his flogging.  I asked him how his back was doing.  He said, “It feels normal.”  I felt pity for him and didn’t want to take part in this, so I said to him, “Well, let me see if the centurion will let me look around for something else, and see what he says if I can’t find anything” (this in hopes that the centurion would let him go or so I would not have to participate).  At that, I went to look around and woke up.