A Safe Place To Tell Visions
Stories
Vision Stories
True Accounts Of Visions, Angels, And Healing Miracles
Late on Maundy Thursday evening, in the year 2000, as I lay in bed, meditating on the format of this book, a thought came into my head that I would be able to see a spirit if I simply looked. I opened my eyes and saw something indescribably beautiful about two feet above my head. It was a bright, luxurious purple, then deep azure blue, radiant, dynamic, pulsating: a being of light and energy moving slowly closer and closer. As it drew near, I tried to communicate through thoughts, asking who or what I was seeing, and the meaning of the visitation. There was no discernable response. Then the spirit touched me, more like flowed into my being. I felt warmly loved. The warmth moved over and through my body like liquid energy. It was exhilarating, like nothing I have ever experienced before. The vision lasted three or four minutes.
The memory of this encounter with the holy still warms my heart. I continue to experience it as a healing presence. I am healthier physically, emotionally, and spiritually than I was before I opened my eyes that night. Most of the painful symptoms of a debilitating illness I had suffered periodically for seven years have abated. The vision is a "blessed assurance" of the presence of God, an answer to prayers for healing, and a beacon to light my way in the years to come. I am grateful beyond words.
What I can express about my vision I have learned to say carefully to persons I have reason to believe might be receptive. Some people don't know what to say when they hear of an experience like this. Others dismiss it as foolishness. We live in a culture that is not vision friendly. Eddie Ensley, a Roman Catholic writer of Native American descent, writes in his book, Visions: The Soul's Path To The Sacred: "Talk of visions went underground, at least in polite company, with the rise of modern science in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries." Yet, he says, people have visions all the time. Ensley tells of a survey of 2,000 Christians in mainline churches in St. Cloud, Minnesota, which found that thirty percent had seen dramatic visions, heard heavenly voices, or experienced prophetic dreams. Ensley adds, "Almost every one reports some partly remembered sacred moment -- once they feel secure enough to talk about it."1
Many people have had this kind of life-changing experience, but have never felt safe enough to tell anyone. Susan Andrews, pastor of Bradley Hills Presbyterian Church in Bethesda, Maryland, tells of a widowed parishioner whose eyes filled with tears as she spoke to her in the Fellowship Hall one Sunday after worship.
"Bob came back and crawled into bed with me. He didn't say a word. He just appeared -- and then faded away. I felt immediate peace and warmth and hope, and now I don't feel alone." Then glancing up in pink but eager embarrassment, she asked, "You don't think I'm crazy, do you?"2
A few months after I had shared this story in a sermon, I went to the hospital to visit Mavis Meyer, a member of our church, who had received word the night before about the death of a favorite niece. I listened as she poured out her grief, and then as an afterthought, asked her if she had had any sense of her niece's presence since her passing. She looked at me knowingly and said, "Not yet, but after my husband died, six years ago, he was often in my bedroom at night. One night, after I had been in bed for awhile, trying to sleep, I opened my eyes and there was my husband and my late stepson hovering over me. I was so startled that I exclaimed, 'Go away!' " We both laughed, and then she told me that she had never spoken of this to anyone before.3
Marjorie Thompson writes about a woman she knows who had a profound encounter with the holy when she was fourteen.
The voice said, "You are my beloved child; walk with me, and you will heal many people." She felt flooded with a sense of well-being and peace and was powerfully moved to serve God. Yet until we met, she had never felt free to share her experience with anyone in her family or church.4
Who would you tell if this happened to you? Would you feel safe telling your family or your friends at work? Could you confide in your physician, your pastor, or the people you worship with at church? In spite of the many mystical stories we know in scripture, and over two centuries of mystic lore handed down by a multitude of saints and sinners, we moderns do not feel comfortable telling about such visitations in church or anywhere else. We live in an age in which most of us have been schooled to be skeptical of anything that cannot be verified scientifically. This means many of us keep silent about some of the most profound experiences of our lives, lest we be accused of being delusional.
Ross Oestreich, a clergy colleague who was on a board responsible for interviewing seminarians seeking ordination in our denomination, remembers a student who fled the meeting when pressed for more candor about his call to ministry. Ross said, "When I found him later, in the basement of one of the dormitories, he told me he dared not tell of his experience with God, because we would think he was crazy. I invited him to try sharing with me. I did not think he was crazy. I resonated with some of his experiences. He had a master's degree in psychology and had been an instructor in that field in a small college before entering seminary." Ross said, "What I found troubling was his assumption that a group of clergy would think he was crazy for having spiritual experiences. I could understand his fear to tell such experiences in a group of persons in the field of psychology. Why was it not safe to tell clergy? Thirty years later, I am still troubled by his comments."5
What if Moses had never told anyone about the burning bush? What if Samuel had not run to someone who understood that it was God who was calling his name? What if Paul had kept quiet about his vision of Christ on the road to Damascus, or if John had never written a word of what he saw during his exile on the island of Patmos? Much of our Christian heritage comes from the told visions of faithful followers of Jesus who were willing to risk ridicule, and in some cases persecution and death, to give witness to the presence of God in their lives. What if, after reading this, you are visited by an angel or a loved one who comes to bring you a blessing from heaven? Who are you going tell?
Renita Weems tells how fortunate she was to have had someone to tell who understood the strange night vision she experienced in her bedroom at the age of seventeen. Two people appeared and sat on the empty bed across the room, whispering to each other and noisily thumbing through the pages of a book. They never looked at her, but communicated with her all the while they were there. Weems ran downstairs and woke her stepmother:
She heard me out ... and without appearing the least bit surprised or flabbergasted by the dream, assured me that the people in my dream were probably angels coming to tell me something.6
In March of 2001, I offered a series of five Lenten classes at our church titled A Safe Place To Tell Visions. Each week, I gave a reading assignment which included vision stories from scripture, selected chapters from Eddie Ensley's book, Visions: The Soul's Path To The Sacred and Jacquelyn Oliveira's book, The Case For Life Beyond Death. I also showed very brief excerpts from movies that include visions. Among these were The Messenger (the story of Joan of Arc), The House of Spirits (based on Isabelle Allende's novel of the same title), The Milagro Beanfield Wars, Field of Dreams, What Dreams May Come, and Always.
Near the end of each class, I announced a time for telling visions. Some of the stories in this collection were revealed during this time. I have discovered over the years that, wherever eight to ten people are gathered, and a vision story is told, two or three others in the group will tell a similar story. Almost everyone has a personal vision story to tell, or knows the story of a friend, and will share it if they know that the sacredness of the story will be honored. It is my hope that, as the stories in this book are read and told, many more faithful souls will find a safe place to tell their visions.
____________
1. Eddie Ensley, Visions: The Soul's Path to the Sacred (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2000), pp. 12-13.
2. Susan R. Andrews, "Jesus Appears," The Christian Century, March 1999, p. 341.
3. Mavis Meyer is a longtime member of Wauwatosa Avenue United Methodist Church in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin.
4. Marjorie J. Thompson, Soul Feast: An Invitation to the Christian Spiritual Life (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1995), p. 4.
5. Ross Oestreich is a recently retired United Methodist pastor who lives in Sun Prairie, Wisconsin.
6. Renita J. Weems, Listening for God: A Minister's Journey Through Silence and Doubt (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1999), p. 99.
Jacquelyn Oliveira's book, The Case for Life Beyond Death, can be ordered from William Laughton Publishers, P.O. Box 588, Elm Grove, Wisconsin 53122-0588. Phone 1-800-686-1250.
The memory of this encounter with the holy still warms my heart. I continue to experience it as a healing presence. I am healthier physically, emotionally, and spiritually than I was before I opened my eyes that night. Most of the painful symptoms of a debilitating illness I had suffered periodically for seven years have abated. The vision is a "blessed assurance" of the presence of God, an answer to prayers for healing, and a beacon to light my way in the years to come. I am grateful beyond words.
What I can express about my vision I have learned to say carefully to persons I have reason to believe might be receptive. Some people don't know what to say when they hear of an experience like this. Others dismiss it as foolishness. We live in a culture that is not vision friendly. Eddie Ensley, a Roman Catholic writer of Native American descent, writes in his book, Visions: The Soul's Path To The Sacred: "Talk of visions went underground, at least in polite company, with the rise of modern science in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries." Yet, he says, people have visions all the time. Ensley tells of a survey of 2,000 Christians in mainline churches in St. Cloud, Minnesota, which found that thirty percent had seen dramatic visions, heard heavenly voices, or experienced prophetic dreams. Ensley adds, "Almost every one reports some partly remembered sacred moment -- once they feel secure enough to talk about it."1
Many people have had this kind of life-changing experience, but have never felt safe enough to tell anyone. Susan Andrews, pastor of Bradley Hills Presbyterian Church in Bethesda, Maryland, tells of a widowed parishioner whose eyes filled with tears as she spoke to her in the Fellowship Hall one Sunday after worship.
"Bob came back and crawled into bed with me. He didn't say a word. He just appeared -- and then faded away. I felt immediate peace and warmth and hope, and now I don't feel alone." Then glancing up in pink but eager embarrassment, she asked, "You don't think I'm crazy, do you?"2
A few months after I had shared this story in a sermon, I went to the hospital to visit Mavis Meyer, a member of our church, who had received word the night before about the death of a favorite niece. I listened as she poured out her grief, and then as an afterthought, asked her if she had had any sense of her niece's presence since her passing. She looked at me knowingly and said, "Not yet, but after my husband died, six years ago, he was often in my bedroom at night. One night, after I had been in bed for awhile, trying to sleep, I opened my eyes and there was my husband and my late stepson hovering over me. I was so startled that I exclaimed, 'Go away!' " We both laughed, and then she told me that she had never spoken of this to anyone before.3
Marjorie Thompson writes about a woman she knows who had a profound encounter with the holy when she was fourteen.
The voice said, "You are my beloved child; walk with me, and you will heal many people." She felt flooded with a sense of well-being and peace and was powerfully moved to serve God. Yet until we met, she had never felt free to share her experience with anyone in her family or church.4
Who would you tell if this happened to you? Would you feel safe telling your family or your friends at work? Could you confide in your physician, your pastor, or the people you worship with at church? In spite of the many mystical stories we know in scripture, and over two centuries of mystic lore handed down by a multitude of saints and sinners, we moderns do not feel comfortable telling about such visitations in church or anywhere else. We live in an age in which most of us have been schooled to be skeptical of anything that cannot be verified scientifically. This means many of us keep silent about some of the most profound experiences of our lives, lest we be accused of being delusional.
Ross Oestreich, a clergy colleague who was on a board responsible for interviewing seminarians seeking ordination in our denomination, remembers a student who fled the meeting when pressed for more candor about his call to ministry. Ross said, "When I found him later, in the basement of one of the dormitories, he told me he dared not tell of his experience with God, because we would think he was crazy. I invited him to try sharing with me. I did not think he was crazy. I resonated with some of his experiences. He had a master's degree in psychology and had been an instructor in that field in a small college before entering seminary." Ross said, "What I found troubling was his assumption that a group of clergy would think he was crazy for having spiritual experiences. I could understand his fear to tell such experiences in a group of persons in the field of psychology. Why was it not safe to tell clergy? Thirty years later, I am still troubled by his comments."5
What if Moses had never told anyone about the burning bush? What if Samuel had not run to someone who understood that it was God who was calling his name? What if Paul had kept quiet about his vision of Christ on the road to Damascus, or if John had never written a word of what he saw during his exile on the island of Patmos? Much of our Christian heritage comes from the told visions of faithful followers of Jesus who were willing to risk ridicule, and in some cases persecution and death, to give witness to the presence of God in their lives. What if, after reading this, you are visited by an angel or a loved one who comes to bring you a blessing from heaven? Who are you going tell?
Renita Weems tells how fortunate she was to have had someone to tell who understood the strange night vision she experienced in her bedroom at the age of seventeen. Two people appeared and sat on the empty bed across the room, whispering to each other and noisily thumbing through the pages of a book. They never looked at her, but communicated with her all the while they were there. Weems ran downstairs and woke her stepmother:
She heard me out ... and without appearing the least bit surprised or flabbergasted by the dream, assured me that the people in my dream were probably angels coming to tell me something.6
In March of 2001, I offered a series of five Lenten classes at our church titled A Safe Place To Tell Visions. Each week, I gave a reading assignment which included vision stories from scripture, selected chapters from Eddie Ensley's book, Visions: The Soul's Path To The Sacred and Jacquelyn Oliveira's book, The Case For Life Beyond Death. I also showed very brief excerpts from movies that include visions. Among these were The Messenger (the story of Joan of Arc), The House of Spirits (based on Isabelle Allende's novel of the same title), The Milagro Beanfield Wars, Field of Dreams, What Dreams May Come, and Always.
Near the end of each class, I announced a time for telling visions. Some of the stories in this collection were revealed during this time. I have discovered over the years that, wherever eight to ten people are gathered, and a vision story is told, two or three others in the group will tell a similar story. Almost everyone has a personal vision story to tell, or knows the story of a friend, and will share it if they know that the sacredness of the story will be honored. It is my hope that, as the stories in this book are read and told, many more faithful souls will find a safe place to tell their visions.
____________
1. Eddie Ensley, Visions: The Soul's Path to the Sacred (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2000), pp. 12-13.
2. Susan R. Andrews, "Jesus Appears," The Christian Century, March 1999, p. 341.
3. Mavis Meyer is a longtime member of Wauwatosa Avenue United Methodist Church in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin.
4. Marjorie J. Thompson, Soul Feast: An Invitation to the Christian Spiritual Life (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1995), p. 4.
5. Ross Oestreich is a recently retired United Methodist pastor who lives in Sun Prairie, Wisconsin.
6. Renita J. Weems, Listening for God: A Minister's Journey Through Silence and Doubt (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1999), p. 99.
Jacquelyn Oliveira's book, The Case for Life Beyond Death, can be ordered from William Laughton Publishers, P.O. Box 588, Elm Grove, Wisconsin 53122-0588. Phone 1-800-686-1250.
