In my dream there were perhaps a hundred people of all ages being held prisoner in what looked like a cemented barnyard. Twice a week the compound was cleared of prisoners while a tractor scraped the cement clean, first in one direction and then the other. Since there were no proper washrooms for the prisoners, the scraping was welcomed by all concerned for far more than the break in routine which it offered.

Who the prisoners were I do not know, but their keepers were evidently Christians, and it must have been the spring of the year. Read on, and you'll discover how I knew.

One day an actor was brought in to the compound by the keepers, who I sensed were missionaries. It was his responsibility to portray Jesus Christ to the prisoners, and he did a great job of it. His lines were letter-perfect; his body language, superb. Nobody familiar with the story of Jesus could have faulted his portrayal. What an actor! What an Academy-Award-winning performance! I was IMPRESSED. This guy was good!

Then suddenly he appeared one morning with great gaping wounds in his hands and feet!

I was appalled! Shocked, I protested to the invisible jailers, "Hey, he's just an actor; you can't crucify him - he's only playing a part!"

Three times the ghastly scene repeated itself, until I realized the message behind the dream:

There is no role-playing in Christianity. If you want to be a Christ-one (which is what being a Christian actually means), you can't just talk the walk - you've got to walk it.

"He who has ears to hear, let him hear."