Advent 3 – Year B
There are comedic dreams and tragic dreams. Here is an example of the comedic. No matter what the difficulty or intensity of a nightmare, things come 'round right. Restoration after disaster brings laughter.
The prayer of the glass-half-full psalmist is that others who are tearful will find a way to see joy eventuating from their exile into dryness. There is a presumption of life being a comedy, not just because of the importance of timing (and what is Advent about but timing), but because difficulties are wonderfully resolved.
A question we are left with - what to do with a comedic dream in the presence of wide-awake tragedy? Do we step back from our disaster and trust a sweet by-and-by? Do we use the dream as motivation when there is not yet an armload of blessed sheaves to bring home? Do we dismiss the dream as "an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato"?
What dream is holding you in the midst of economic uncertainty, political conspiracy, or on-going genocide? Might it hold something as unimaginable in daylight as a manger or a Baptizer John – both of which portend beyond current powers and processes?