In his Genesee Diary, Henri Nouwen records a dream about Thomas Merton that he found significant. I had a dream last night that is perhaps insignificant, about Henri Nouwen.
It seems we (fellow students and I) were at a campground for one of our yearly residencies for our Masters program. Henri was our teacher. The dream opens in the cafeteria where I was having a conversation over lunch with my former youth pastor, Nancy. She has her PhD and has been teaching at the university level. She apparently was teaching for Spring Arbor, as she was at our residency. She was challenging me about the rigor of our program. It seemed that my thoughts in our discussion were unenlightened because I hadn't been around academia at one of the top schools. She seemed to think I was more cut out for Yale and was disappointed that I was in this program. I defended my decision telling the story about how and why I came to the Masters in Spiritual Formation and Leadership. I touted some lofty goal that SAU had for becoming a top tier regional center for learning. She just gave me this quizzical look.
Then I went back to my makeshift dorm room to change and get ready for Henri's talk. I had a hard time picking out clothes, and I knew I was going to be late. In addition this particular night Henri wasn't going to be speaking in our regular auditorium, but rather in a big top with leather boardroom chairs. The whole town had been invited. I made my way past lines of people getting being fed an extravagant dinner, which I gathered was free to all the people coming in to hear Henri's talk.
I made it into the big top while it was still relatively empty and the crews were setting up the video cameras and testing out their projection system. I was sitting with my 7 year old daughter and a male friend of hers. That is, we were separated from each other by a video camera on a tripod. I wasn't comfortable with this arrangement, but I couldn't get them any closer.
At this point things get strange. We are suddenly in a van rather than leather chairs. It is like we are in the front row of a drive in theater. The van's engine starts to sputter so I give it some gas, and it lurches forward, the accelerator stuck (though it didn't seem to be a Toyota). By the time I regained control we were on a busy road heading away from the big top. I made my way back, barely able to control the van or get it to break. We made it back to park in a large field where the town people had parked. The van got stuck and wouldn't go any farther, so I stripped it down to its frame and drove it as a go-cart up to the big top.
Back inside we could only find seats behind a wall, removed from the action, only able to watch the service on the monitors. Between trying to keep the kids engaged, and being removed from the teaching, I didn't hear a word Henri said. Eventually I made my way around to the main area, the service was closing with a prayer time. People were getting up to leave and I could only catch glimpses of Henri gesturing with his massive hands as he talked to people in the isles.
Perhaps my dream indicates a danger to miss the substance of what Henri Nouwen has to say, the Christ he desires to present, in the midst of the activity surrounding him. Studying him so long after his death does seem to have some of the disadvantage of watching from afar. In any case, Lord, make me attuned to what you are saying to me through this dream and through the life and work of Henri Nouwen. Amen.
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