Why Dream?

Authors: Yi Xuan (Josh) Ng (class of 2020) and Dr. Eric Miller, Professor of History & Humanities

Annie Dillard writes, “We teach our children one thing only, as we were taught: to wake up.” At some point in our lives, though, as we confronted some harsh reality of life, we each probably arrived at the conclusion that some dreams ought to be forgotten. It was nice while it lasted, we say to ourselves in such moments, but it is time to wake up. I wish my life was something else. But it is what it is. Like Wendy in Peter Pan, we bid farewell to Neverland, leave our hidden kiss with a boy who will not age, and return to the “real world” to grow up. (Some of us may leave the window open for a while.)

Curiously, though, we tend not to prevent others from having their dreams. We even encourage them, at the very least, to “give it a try” – we let Jane have her time with Peter Pan. After all, without dreams we can scarcely find the motivation to live, learn, and love; dreams drive and direct us. It seems unlikely that humans could have stepped on the moon’s surface without having first dreamed of doing so. Nor does it seem probable that Reverend King could have had the same success with the civil rights movement without having meant the words he so boldly declared: “I have a dream today!”

But how frustrated we often are with our daydreamers! Many of them live sitting on their hands, with their heads in the clouds and their mouths open with a complaint about how terrible the world is, as compared to what it could be. These people often seem blind to reality, to the here and now, and to the people around them, their vision of life obscured by their pipe dreams.

We are not like that, we say; we see clearly, for we dream in moderation. (What was it that Jesus said about those who say, “We see”?) But such moderation is often not, in fact, characteristic of our experience; dreams have a life of their own, and often decide for us what we want even before we understand why we want such things. After all, what is a dream if it does not captivate – take captive – your mind? In which case “Why dream?” indeed! You might lose yourself!

Christians have a worthy resource for confronting this question: it is found in the virtue of hope. Like many of our dreams, biblical hope is oriented toward a vision of the future, giving us drive and direction for living. Moreover, though, biblical hope is not wishful thinking for what may happen; it’s the confidence about what will happen. We who are assured of our position in Christ, know that a blissful eternity with God is guaranteed to us and we are called to take comfort in that final destiny. We know that when that day comes, our time here will seem like the blink of an eye, and much of what we thought we missed out on will be found in Christ: “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” (Colossians 3:2)

Yet biblical hope is directed toward the ultimate end of history. And we are here, now. Somehow it does not seem right to define patience as the complete suppression of our earthly dreams. Our future hope that “everything will be perfect one day” should not be used as a cookie-cutter answer to every problem we have here. The truth is, we long for things to happen here, whether we admit it or not; we long for love, for justice, for beauty to be seen in this world. Surely, trying to attain things not specifically promised to us in Scripture cannot always mean that we are discontent or of small faith.

It may, in sum, be worth our while as a community to consider not just the Star of Bethlehem as we gaze at the sky, but also – to turn to Peter Pan once more – the Second Star to the Right.