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Sabra (Sabra)
Posted on Thursday, February 20, 2003 - 2:31 pm:   Edit PostDelete PostPrint Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

This was the dream that I read about a year and a half ago and couldn't find until today. It really impressed me.

By Jude the Obscure on Saturday, January 22, 2000 - 10:39 pm: This morning I woke up from a dream that scared me. Because I donít know where itís going to lead me. But it also thrilled me. Because I believe the Holy Spirit sent it to me, and I know I have to follow it. Here it is, somewhat elaborated in the telling:

I was living in an SDA ghetto. You know where some of these are: Walla Walla, Berrien Springs, Silver Spring, Loma Linda....

Only in my dream the denizens all lived in complexes of office/residence skyscrapers lining both sides of a single street. Another strange thing: Contrary to normal SDA behavior, in my dream they kept throwing furniture and books and childrenís toys and even trash out into the street. The mountains of junk had grown so high that the street was hardly navigable. And to make matters worse, because I had raised some objections to this unsightly practice, nobody was speaking to me any more.

I decided I needed a break, and so I started to walk away from it all. On my excursion I chanced to meet someone calling himself Dale who was traveling with some members of a group that was calling itself the Former Adventist Fellowship.

When I described the junkyard that my street had become, they enigmatically paraphrased a Bible text: ìThey meant it for evil, but God meant it for good.î (Genesis 50:20.)

ìWhat are you talking about?î

ìThereís buried treasure under all that junk,î they said.

ìBuried treasure? What buried treasure?î

ìThe truth,î they said.

ìHuh? Iím afraid youíve lost me.î

ìCome with us,î they said. ìLetís go treasure hunting.î

As we threaded our way through the mountains of junk, windows in the high-rises overhead began to open. Heads popped out. Mouths opened. ìWhat are you doing down there?î ìKeep out!î ìGo home! Youíre not wanted here!î

ìI am home!î I yelled. ìI live here!î

ìYou're no friend of Ellen Whiteís,î a voice shot back, ìand so you're no friend of anyone here any more!î

At that a deafening roar emerged from hundreds, thousands, of windows on both sides of the street. I began dodging cans of Worthington Phonybaloney, Loma Linda Pseudoflesh and other containers of wannabe meat. Then came torrents of red books, whole sets of SDA Bible Commentaries, veggie-novels, Reviews, Quarterlies, videos of ìFaith for Today,î ìVoice of Prophecy,î ìIt Is Written,î ìQuiet Hour,î ìNet-90 Something,î ìAmazing FactsîÖ.

Followed by candles, candlesticks, lavers, packages of incense, altars, altar horns, veil curtains, arks, rods that had budded, tablets of stone with the Ten Commandments carved on them, showbread, tables of showbread, sheaves of grain, clay pots, bronze pots, bags of flour, bottles of anointing oil, tassels, breastplates, Urims, Thummims, tents of meeting, robes, sashes, ephods, holy tunics, shekels, even the partially burned carcasses of doves, rams, goats, bulls, and oxen -- all raining down from above. No pig carcasses, though.

To protect Dale while he worked I grabbed a discarded bedstead and held it against the hail as a shield over his body.

Suddenly he shouted, ìI found one! I found one!î A huge grin spread over his face.

ìFound what?î I yelled above the din.

ìLook!î He was pointing at a bundle about the size of a man.

A thunderous chant emerged from the canyon walls: ìDonít dig them up! Donít dig them up!î and ìKeep them buried! Keep them buried!î

ìItís a body!î I gasped. It was wrapped up like a mummy in windings of historical cloth, the clothing of a woman.

ìTheyíve wound him up in the clothing of Ellen G. White,î Dale said.

I suddenly noticed the body begin to move, to struggle against the mummy windings.

ìItís alive!î I shouted. ìItís still alive!î

ìRebury him! Rebury him!î the crowd chanted.

Ignoring them we rapidly unwound the bindings. It was a man.

ìPaul!î Dale shouted. Indeed, in my dream it was indeed the apostle -- still bound hand and foot with more strips of Ellen Whiteís clothing ñ her antique shawls and and sashes and scarves.

Using his pocketknife Dale carefully cut Paul free. Then he began to pull the stuffing out of Paulís mouth. I looked at it. This time it wasnít more of Ellen Whiteís historical clothing. Paul had been gagged with handkerchiefs ñ menís white dress handkerchiefs. I looked at them.

Each was labeled with a different moniker: Dwight Nelson, Doug Bachelor, Des Ford, Bob Folkenberg, Neal Wilson....

Paul was a young man, much younger than I had thought, with a haircut and a trimmed beard -- in flagrant violation of Old Testament law (Leviticus 19:27). And he wore, not the rich robes of his Sanhedrin past, but coarse laborerís clothing.

By now the roaring of the crowd was indecipherable.

I looked at the apostle. ìWhatís the truth about the Sabbath,î I asked.

ìI never preached the Sabbath, not once in all my evangelistic efforts or missionary journeys, neither in Jerusalem, nor in Judea, nor in the uttermost parts of the earth. Itís true that a few Gentiles ñ an infinitesimal minority ñ were already keeping the Sabbath. But thatís only because they were already attending Sabbath services in the Jewish synagogues in every Gentile city. But they were but a trickle who were soon swept away with the mighty sea of new converts who had never heard of the Sabbath, and I saw no reason to tell them about it, much less teach them they had to keep it.î

ìWhat day were they keeping?î I asked.

ìNearly all of them were getting up before sunrise on Sunday morning and worshipping Jesus. But they didnít rest on Sunday. It wasnít a Sabbath rest day from sundown Saturday night to sundown Sunday night for them.

"And many were worshipping God seven days a week, keeping all days holy.

ìIt was about that time that the Seventh-day Adventists began coming down from Mt. Sinai in the Wilderness of Sin,î he continued.

ìUnlike me, they began preaching the Sabbath: If you loved Jesus, they told the Gentiles, youíd keep ALL of his commandments, including the fourth. The problem with their 'reasoning' was that when Jesus said, 'Keep my commandments,' he meant exactly that, HIS commandments: Love one another, love your neighbor as yourself, love your enemies, as well as the moral features of the incomplete and inferior Ten Commandments, such as, ìDonít murder or steal or lie or cheat or covet or commit adultery.

ìAnd this is exactly what I taught the Gentiles who were flooding into the church. I never taught anybody to keep the Sabbath or to observe any of the other ceremonial aspects of the law, such as circumcision or the differences between so-called clean and unclean foods.î

ìI told these Adventists that all these things were intended to teach us to accept Jesus Christ when he came. But now that he was here, these things had passed into insignificance, passed away really, because they had all been fulfilled, right down to the last jot and tittle.

"I told them specifically that the Sabbath was only a shadow pointing to Jesus. And we followed that shadow until we found him. But once we found him, the one who cast the shadow, it lost all its importance, except as a bygone historical relic. It had served its purpose well. It was time to give it a rest. Jesus Christ was now our true Sabbath rest.

ìThatís when the Adventists gagged me, tied my hands and feet, wound me up in Ellen Whiteís clothing like a mummy, and buried me under a mountain of her books, not to mention SDA Bible commentaries, church manuals, Reviews, Quarterlies, and innumerable video tapes ñ and all because they couldnít force me to preach their false Sabbath doctrine to the Gentiles.î

By now the roar of the crowd was so deafening that Paulís voice was being drowned out. I glanced over at the other members of the Former Adventist Fellowship. They had been busy uncovering Matthew, Mark, Luke, Peter, James, Jude and even the writer of Hebrews. All were vigorously agreeing with Paul.

Thatís when it hit me: Where was John? John was still missing! The FAF members were standing around shaking their heads. What had happened to John? How could they have missed him, the "beloved disciple"?

Suddenly I had an idea. Maybe he wasnít in the street at all. Maybe the Adventists were keeping him hidden somewhere else, a special place. Maybe they were so frightened of what he might say -- in case the New Testament writers should ever be uncovered and freed -- that they had taken the extra precaution to imprison him in a special hiding place.

Maybe John had a secret weapon that would utterly demolish the last of the Adventistsí arguments. Maybe he was, after all was said and done, the most dangerous apostle of all, more dangerous even than Paul!

A thrill shot up my spine. I would find him!

Where was he hidden? Maybe in the ìholy of holies.î And where might that be? Most likely the Ellen G. White vault in the basement of the SDA Theological Seminary skyscraper. It was possible. Why not give it a try?

The building was right on the street, after all, and in all the clamor and hubbub the front door had been left unguarded and was in fact hanging wide open!

Trying to appear nonchalant I edged my way over. No security guard in sight. I slipped inside. It was dark as midnight. But with my pocket flashlight I was able to make my way downstairs to the entrance of the EGW vault. Again, no security guard. He must be outside enjoying the jeering throng, I thought. Maybe there was something providential about my idea.

I reached the area of prisoners cells and switched on the wall light. There he was ñ John the ìson of thunder,î the disciple whom Jesus loved, not young like Paul, but aged ñ behind bars, handcuffed, and blinking in the light. He recognized me instantly as a friend and smiled graciously. ìThere are keys in a box on the wall above the security guardís desk,î he said.

Quickly I had the cage door open and his handcuffs and anklecuffs off. ìWhat is it?î I asked. ìWhatís the secret that will free the Adventist people from their bondage?"

Itís simple,î he smiled. ìJesus broke the Sabbath.î

ìNo!î I said. ìHe only broke the rules the Pharisees had added.î

ìNo, He broke the Sabbath of the Ten Commandments. And he encouraged, and even ordered, others to do so. I was there. I know.î ìWhen?î ìWhen we were reaping and thrashing grain on the Sabbath, and when Jesus ordered the invalid of 38 years to carry his bedroll on the Sabbath.î

ìOh!î I said. ìYouíre right about that. I hadnít thought of it quite that way before. But wasnít he just showing people how to keep the day better?"

John smiled. "Not at all! I wrote it all down as plainly as I could: Jesus said to them, 'My Father is always at work to this very day, and I, too, am working.' For this reason the Jews tried all the harder to kill him; not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God. I donít know how I could have made myself any clearer.

ìYet to this very day,î John continued, ìSeventh-day Adventists fail to grasp either concept. They interpret the phrase ëSon of God as meaning ëinferior to Godí or ëless than God.í They call him ëour elder brother.í I've never used that term. They even put him on a par with Satan, as though they were co-equal contestants in the battle of Armageddon in the strangely-termed ëGreat Controversy Between Christ and Satan.í This is a false doctrine, of course. Jesus Christ is the one who SUMMONS Satan to the battle. Jesus Christ is himself soveriegn God. They just can't seem to let Jesus be God with powers to restate the law."

ìWould you come with me, John?î I asked. ìThere are so many Adventists who need to be freed from their chains of unbelief!î

ìOf course,î he said. ìThis is the reason you have been used by God to free me.î

Again a thrill shot through my body. ìUsed by God!î John had just said so! ìUsed by God!î

When we reached the outside in the absolutely brilliant sunshine of the noon sun at zenith -- with all shadows gone -- and the Adventists saw us, the wrath of their roaring knew no bounds. But there was nothing they could do any more, because so many of them were braking ranks and gathering around to hear what the New Testament writers were saying and had really been saying all along.

And so we led a great host of captive Adventists free, led them out of their ghetto, all praising God and saying, ìGlory to God! Glory to God! Glory to God in the highest! And peace on earth! Goodwill toward all people! For the gospel lives anew!î

And that's how I came to awake from my dream both scared and thrilled.

Therefore, go not gentle into SDA night, Rage against the dying of the gospel light,

Jude the Obscure courtesy of formeradventist.com
Dennis (Dennis)
Posted on Sunday, February 23, 2003 - 5:01 pm:   Edit PostDelete PostPrint Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

Sabra,

Interestingly, Max Philips changed the name of Ellen White to "Helen Wheat" in a post on the Adventist Today forum. Apparently, the more sensitve AT readers would find the changed name or pseudonym less objectionable and more palateable and acceptable in reading this satirical dream.

I too experienced a dose of holy laughter while reading it.

Dennis J. Fischer
Lori (Lori)
Posted on Monday, February 24, 2003 - 6:23 am:   Edit PostDelete PostPrint Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

I love the "shadow" analogy! And, now, I have a living example of it with me daily! My dog!

He at first entertained me with chasing the shadows of birds and butterflys last spring. He chases the shadows with untiring exuberance; he's totally delighted!! However, the shadow is all he sees. One day, during "the game", the butterfly shadow disappeared. The real thing landed 6 inches in front of his nose!! I fully expected him to bite it.......but he only briefly looked at and then frantically began looking all around him for the shadow.

He had no idea the object, which cast the shadow, was right before him. The two were totally disassociated in his eyes. He could take no delight in the prize before him because he didn't recognize it for what it was.


He also loves to play basketball "with" my boys. The boys, of course, are playing with the real ball and goal. "His goal" is a three foot high shadow cast upon our garage doors. He stands guard at the goal. Anxiously waiting for the bouncing shadow of the ball to appear. With its arrival, he eagerly jumps and bites the air bouncing along after it.

Occasionally, the real ball comes his way. Due to his intent upon the shadows, it is unseen until it strikes him. He rarely gives any attention at all to the substance, even after it hits him! His eyes are only temporarily removed from the area in which the shadow appears when the substance distracts him. Once the substance has been recovered by the boys, he gives special attention back to the shadow.

He's totally content with the shadow. (Isn't this how many Adventist are with the law?)

They are totally content with the shadow of the law. They stand "at the garage door" watching for the weekly appearance of the "ball" (the Sabbath) and with delighted exuberance they enjoy it's presence until it disappears.

They are unable to comprehend the pleasure of the substance. In the same manner those who have come to know the substance can not understand the stubborn assertations that the shadow must be adhered to.

Take special note of shadows today! More often than not, they are a "stretched" or "squashed" version of the reality.

Can you truly follow the shadow and the substance as some assert? Or must you chose which one to give your attention to?

Shadows are always on the ground. We must look up to see the substance. When we look down at the shadow more often than not we see ourselves in the view; we can see what we are doing. In contrast, when we look up and cast our eyes upon the substance self can longer be seen.......
Dennis (Dennis)
Posted on Monday, February 24, 2003 - 6:21 pm:   Edit PostDelete PostPrint Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

Excellent observance and analogy, Lori!
Sabra (Sabra)
Posted on Tuesday, February 25, 2003 - 6:11 am:   Edit PostDelete PostPrint Post   Move Post (Moderator/Admin Only)

Great Lori!

I think my dog is too stupid to even notice a shadow, lol...

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