Dr. George A. Gordon, the Boston preacher, tells of a dream that
transformed his ministry:
I was in the pulpit before a great congregation, just ready to
begin my sermon, when a stranger entered and passed slowly up
the left aisle of the church, looking first to one side and then
to the other, as tho silently asking with his eyes that some one
would give him a seat. He had proceeded nearly half-way up the
aisle when a gentleman stept out and offered him a place in his
pew, which was quietly accepted. I remembered his face wore
a peculiarly serious look, as of one who had known some great
sorrow. His bearing, too, was exceedingly humble, his dress poor
and plain, and from the beginning to the end of the service he
gave the most respectful attention to the preacher. To myself
I constantly asked, “Who can that stranger be?” And then I
mentally resolved to find out by going up to him directly the
service was over. But before I could reach him he had left the
house. The gentleman with whom he sat, however, remained behind,
and approaching him I asked, “Can you tell me who that stranger
was who sat in your pew this morning?” He replied: “Why, do you
not know that man? It was Jesus of Nazareth.”
One had been present in the church for an hour who could tell
me all that I so longed to know; who could point out to me the
imperfections of my service; who could reveal to me my real
self, to whom, perhaps, I am most a stranger; who could correct
the errors in our worship, to which long usage and accepted
traditions may have rendered us insensible. While I had been
preaching for half an hour He had been there and listening,
who could have told me all this, and infinitely more, and my
eyes had been holden and I knew Him not, and now He was gone.
And then I awoke, for behold, it was a dream. No, it was not a
dream. It was a vision of the deepest reality, a miniature of an
actual ministry. (Text.)
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