Forgiving Snape

I had a strange dream last night, and I know it can be attributed to my fertile thoughts. But I also believe God spoke to me last night through it.

It is a rare, rare, rare, rare day (night?) when I dream that I am, quite literally, someone else. That is what happened last night. And how fitting, how richly fitting, that I should dream that I was Harry Potter!

For those who know the books well enough, the irony is probably clear. Harry had a habit of dreaming he was someone else — Lord Voldemort. The other fifteen people in this world who haven't seen the movies or read the books will likely find this blog a waste of precious time. (Always a pretty high risk with my blog in any case...)

Dreams are funny things... I know that I was Harry Potter in my dream not because I thought to myself (during the dream), "I'm Harry Potter!" but rather because of who I interacted with and what happened.

I was interacting with Snape. And he hated me. And I hated him.

But what's moving to me about that dream is that something in me caused me to couch my woundedness (hatred is usually a response to hurt) in something less than scathing terms. My words betrayed a hint of weakness and brokenness.... And Snape heard them. He heard something in my tone of voice. And he, in his turn, responded with a hint of acknowledgement that he might have mistreated me. Chinks of light.

And peace was made.

Here's where things get funny again (or maybe just bizarre)... As rapproachment was made, it was made first by words, and then by touch. And after the touch was made with Snape on my left, I turned to the man on my right — who had bleach-blonde hair. Yes, it was Lucius Malfoy.

Ha! What a riot of a dream!

But in any case, I put my hand on his back in a friendly gesture and said, "See, I am not always harsh!" And instantly, the man who had, moments before, been Lucius Malfoy, as sure as the day is long... became a different man. (Potter fans, I must apologize... he didn't become anyone recognizable to me from the Harry Potter series... In fact, the man wasn't even someone I know from real life.)

But he was a gentle and kind man. Lucius Malfoy became a saint. Before my eyes. At the touch of my hand.

And then, as if touch had not already taken significance in this dream, Snape led me by the hand to another room where he gave me a gift of food. In a true-to-life way, there was a point where it was awkward to hold hands as he led me through a doorway. I held on. I didn't want to let go of his hand. I knew the connection was important.

Well, needless to say, this dream has moving implications for me. I won't claim it as a vision from God, but I will say this: I believe God has used it to remind me that it is my calling to dream of the impossible. Forgiving Snape.

There are some Snapes in my life. There are real reasons for this dream to have arrived in my subconscious mind on the night it did. I suspect we all have a Snape or two somewhere. Three? Will I forgive mine? The unwinding of hurts hangs in the balance.

What would the world be like if we were to, each and every one of us, forgive Snape? To touch the untouchable. To love the unlovable. We'll have to be vulnerable. That's the first step. Is it worth the risk?

We won't know exactly what would happen until we try. But I have pretty darned good idea it would be beautiful. I am reminded of Isaiah's vision of God's future kingdom...

Isaiah 11:6
The wolf will live with the lamb,
the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling together;
and a little child will lead them.

By hand, I suspect...