I'm going to talk a little bit more about dreams today in this post.
Last night I had a dream. It was a very vivid dream - very detailed, very weird, very imaginative. It was about David Pack. Let me stop here and now before I begin and preface this by stating it was only a dream, for those whom should need this to hear.
In this dream, I had to attend a service of David Pack's. It was set in a large, semi-circular auditorium laden with brown and gold overtones with a central podium and risers with warm-toned lighting. Why I had to go there, I really do not know. I was not alone - I was with someone - a tall, blond-haired gentleman who told me when I was there that I had to stay there.
As the service began, well, just before the service actually began, a youth member way back somewhere (presumably a kitchen, or someplace) accidentally dropped and broke some dishes. Pack, in this dream, immediately got up to the podium and blasted out condescending and hurtful rebukes about how horrible it was that this young person broke dishes in the house of God.
It seemed that Pack went on for a while, and I was getting absolutely disgusted. But no one else was. The entire congregation approved of how shameful the youth was, and in a rare vocal agreement agreed completely with Pack. No one left - or could. To the chagrin of the tall, blonde gentleman by my side, I decided I was going to leave.
So, I tried to leave. I exited the tunnel that led to the concourse (seemed like an arena type exit) and I was met by someone who claimed to be an appointed Judge of the Church that I could not leave. I challenged him and said yes, I could - and he suddenly held some sort of a strange puzzle. The implication was if I could put the puzzle together, I could go. I wondered - who are you to tell me what to do and how I can or cannot go? At that point, I decided to run, as fast as I could, out of there, and ended up down a street.
Other people on the street - I don't know who they were - suddenly realized I had left Pack's service by some sort of telekinetic or telepathic instruction (think the Borg), and attempted to stop me as well. However, it did not work. It was at this point that the dream ended.
Thank God.
Yes, Dreams happen. Some are extremely vivid. Some don't make any sense. Some make a lot of sense. Rarely do they mean anything at all. In this dream Pack was a jack-ass - which is fairly accurate - but I can count on one hand the amount of dreams I have had throughout my entire life that I can tell you were proven to be either "prophetic" or inspired because of their accuracy and future-telling ability that actually came true. (I told only one person about them!) This? This was just a crazy, strange dream about David Pack that I probably had because I had just eaten a good bowl of raisin bran. So I'll tell you.
In the COG Universe, so-called prophets put emphasis on dreams because they are already self-obsessed with their own grandiose ideas of their importance. They will assume that God is telling them something, but the only thing speaking to them is an astounding amount of carbs and protein from leftover pizza or lasagna! Their dreams are self-centered, self-absorbed, and usually absolutely senseless and complete nonsense.
Now, about that Pack Dream.
If it had happened to someone, say, like Thiel, or Malm, I can pretty much bet you they would probably get up, write it down, think it was from God, and run with it into some sort of strange interpretation. God forbid if it actually happened to Pack! He'd probably write a 356 part sermon about it, divided into twenty-four subsections and sixteen overtime segments. If Waterhouse was alive, could you imagine how he would run with such a dream? It would be one of the most rambling messages you could probably ever hear! The point is - this was just what it was - a dream. Exactly as the other dreams I've had I've told you about previously - such as the dream of Herbert In a Box some time ago that I shared. They. Are. Just. Dreams.
People have got to stop attributing such grandiose callings to COG "ministers" like Thiel and others - including Thiel and others - with the idea that somehow God is talking to them alone with information that only they are privy to. This can become extremely dangerous, and downright delusional - especially if they are already entrapped in ideas, doctrine, and other complete crap ideologies that belong in the bottom of the sewer. Why is it that these people think so highly of themselves that they can't simply accept that they, too, are human, and dream like the rest of us?
Now, I, too, have a real dream.
I have a dream that Bob Thiel would somehow
learn how to preach. It's obvious he is batting way out of his league. If he had just stuck with vitamin pills, instead of getting his nose into people's spiritual lives as the world's biggest know-it-all, he might have earned some legitimate respect.
I have a dream people like Jon Brisby would
stop dreaming up fantasies that some sort of Christ reappeared - apparently, in the form of a man named Herb who came and went years ago.
I have a dream that David Pack would realize
the immense harm that
he is causing people based on absolute delusion and self-fulfillment, bringing people to the poor house for more than "two trees" in his precious little mini-me "campus".
I have a dream that Ronald Weinland would take the hint and just stop already. He's already the most embarrassing COG personality around.
I have a dream that
Gerald Weston would realize he isn't the big cheese in the minds of many he thinks he is, and sorely lacks respect from many of his own "flock".
I have a dream that James Malm would stop idolizing and worshipping the Law, bringing people further into bondage with his legalistic long-obsolete crazy ideas.
I have a dream that Gerald Flurry would stop focusing on the physical, and sit on that little Herbert Rock he loves so much and wake up to the harm he is causing within his own church by allowing, enabling, or enacting wickedness - and ask himself, was this all worth it?
I have a dream that Armstrongism itself will completely shrivel into an even lower form than it is now, for all of its folly and shame with seventy plus years of nonsense proven as nonsense through the chambers of time.
At least these dreams make sense. Now, maybe I will remember what I ate last night so I don't have another silly dream about that tall weirdo out there in Wadsworth who really thinks he is all that. Who is, after all, the biggest narcissist? Is it Pack? Or Flurry? or Thiel? or Malm? Or Weston? Or Brisby? Or Weinland? Or................
Submitted by SHT