On Dreams

Shakespeare’s line from The Tempest, ‘We are such stuff as dreams are made on’, is a phrase to conjure with as we contemplate the gospel reading today. It is a passage which owes its dramatic development entirely to a series of dreams: first, there is the dream of Joseph, when an angel appears and tells him to take Jesus and Mary to Egypt. Of course, the wise men had been told in a dream not to return to Herod and reveal the whereabouts of the child. Herod in his fury slaughters innocent children. When Herod eventually dies, Joseph has another dream, in which he is told to go to the land of Israel, but then fearing for his safety, he is told in another dream, to go to Galilee.

Of course, Matthew is conjuring with the name of Joseph, and it is interesting that Joseph takes centre stage in Matthew’s description of the birth of Jesus. Joseph brings to mind the great eponymous figure of the Hebrew Bible. In the Book of Genesis, Joseph is the great interpreter of dreams. And if the penny hasn’t dropped already, Matthew quotes Jeremiah. Rachel weeps for her children – and Rachel is of course the mother of Joseph. The story of Joseph in the Book of Genesis provides the explanation for Israel’s residence in Egypt. Without Joseph, there is no need for an Exodus. So our Joseph, like the great Joseph of the Book of Genesis, goes down to Egypt. And so Matthew seeks to demonstrate that the words of the prophet have been fulfilled, ‘Out of Egypt I have called my son’.

Note how Matthew is cleverly appropriating the stories about Joseph in the Book of Genesis. This is an extremely sophisticated piece of writing – and so much of what he describes happens in a series of dreams. Although the philosopher Aristotle was famously dismissive of the idea that dreams might have a divine origin – he suggested that sometimes a dream was simply a result of indigestion – the scriptures on the other hand allow us to see that our unconscious may also be a place of divine disclosure. As our dreams ripple to the surface of our recollection and reverie, we discover an aspect of the real, which we may have missed.

In some respects, the dreams recorded by Matthew contrast with the nightmare of human experience which he also recounts – refugees running for their lives, innocent children abused and slaughtered, a despotic king, a father fearful for his family’s safety. The dreams recorded by Matthew are not idle day-dreams. These dreams have a purpose. They make a difference to the way in which his story unfolds. These dreams enable him to discern the right path, to avoid dangers, to manage risks, to learn that his story forms part of a larger story. These dreams enable him to imagine a future which is bigger than the past.

The New Year is traditionally a time to take stock and to make new year resolutions. As we look ahead to 2023, it may be a useful exercise for us to think what our dreams for the next year look like. How might those dreams help us to flourish or contribute to the happiness of others? It may be something at work, or at home, something personal, something relating to the community as a whole. How will those dreams help you, like Joseph, to discern a future that is bigger than the past?  

In recent months, the church leadership here at St Mary’s has been thinking and dreaming about the future. We have sought to articulate anew our mission and ministry as a church. Drawing on the little phrase of St Anselm of Canterbury, ‘Faith Seeking Understanding’, we have begun to articulate anew the vocation of St Mary’s to be the University Church.

For centuries, the University Church has been a place of public worship, sacred learning and intellectual inquiry. Standing at the heart of the medieval city, it is the place where the University of Oxford began. Every corner of the building speaks of the history of the Church in England – the flourishing of medieval scholasticism, the debates of the Reformation and the trial of Thomas Cranmer, the preaching of John Wesley and the Evangelical Revival of the eighteenth century, as well as the rise of the Oxford Movement and the Catholic Revival of the Church of England in the nineteenth century. The memorials to martyrs and saints speak of lives which have borne witness to the gospel of Jesus Christ. In embracing the life of faith, they have taken the risk of facing the large questions, wrestling with reality, and refusing easy answers.

This is also an integral part of our vocation. The love of learning and the desire for God stand at the heart of our life together. And yet, it is worth digging even deeper into the little phrase, ‘faith seeking understanding’. It is a phrase which gives expression to our task of articulating the Christian faith afresh in the midst of a modern University, where contested forms of discourse interact with each other. In a world where public discourse often appears to be fragmented, where communities seem fractured, and the voices of the poor and the powerless are easily ignored, this phrase invites us to promote understanding, particularly as we welcome almost half a million visitors every year.

Of course, we live in a city of huge contrasts – while a city of extraordinary wealth and privilege flourishes, we are confronted daily by human need, by issues of homelessness, addiction, poverty, hunger and mental well-being.  A commitment to social justice and a desire to sustain and renew the life of the earth are essential elements for those called to inhabit the life of faith at St Mary’s. As the place where OXFAM began, this commitment to justice is also a significant part of our history.

So as we have reflected on our story, we have begun to see some common threads emerge. As we have reflected on the little phrase ‘Faith Seeking Understanding’, five key elements of our mission and ministry have begun to emerge: the desire for God, the love of learning, the joy of hospitality, the demand for justice, and finally the care of creation. I suspect that you will be hearing more of our plans in the course of the next few months as we begin to spell out our priorities for the future, but I hope that you will also share some of our excitement about them, as we seek to serve the University and the City of Oxford, but for now, in this Eucharist, let us give thanks for all the gifts we received in 2022 and look forward with anticipation to our hopes and dreams for 2023.