November 3, 2026
He was in my dream again last night! I don’t know why, but in the last year or so, Father Ken Frisch, who was pastor when I worked as a chaplain at the University Catholic Center in Madison, Wisconsin, has appeared frequently in dreams, whether it seemed to make sense or not. What is going on? We worked together over thirty years ago.
Last night’s dream was interesting. It seemed to cover a number of chapters in my life. It started as I was assisting to video a memorial service for the man of a couple who were members of The First Church in Belfast when Joel and I co-pastored there. I remember having the flashing thought if I was breaking ethical clergy boundaries. It is amazing how many of my waking emotional energy is spent worrying about keeping good retired pastors’ boundaries. Yesterday in my waking hours, I was asked if I could open a post-election Indivisable meeting with centering words to bring us all gently into the discussion. It was something I would have loved to do, but I had to say no. The meeting was being held at our former church, and we are not allowed to practice ministry of any kind there. I suggested someone else.
Anyway, back to the dream. After the memorial service I was off to the next setting in order to get married! This actually happened at the Catholic Center, St. Paul’s, in 1994. In my dream, however, the church did not look familiar. Which makes sense, because some years after I left, the role I played there, preaching and co-presiding masses, was no more, and the modern sanctuary was tuned into something I was told looked more gothic. I haven’t gone in to see it, because I know it would break my heart almost as much as it did when I had to leave there. The newly appointed bishop who did not care for what I was doing piled the stress on with his demands (made to Father Ken because he would not speak directly to me). I ended up with an anxiety disorder, having frequent panic attacks. It took me a while to recover.
Okay, the dream. After arriving at the wedding venue, someone handed me the wedding dress to put on. It was not the one that I actually wore which I bought in a department store on State Street in Madison right off the racks. My real dress was gorgeous, with Victorian-like lace and cut low, but not too low! In the dream the dress lacked any lace or other decoration and seemed to be a long white sheath. I couldn’t believe I was going to wear this tight and form-fitting garment, not me at all! I woke up right before the groom, who I hope was Joel, was to arrive!
While I don’t know what Ken is doing in all my dreams lately, I do know that they all seem to combine different periods in my life and are usually church related. It is as if I am still trying to work out the choices I have made from being the devout Catholic child, to question-ridden adolescent, to student of theology and psychology, to campus minister, to doctor of religion and society, to teacher, to ordained clergy in the United Church of Christ, to retired. Perhaps to published author? I must continue to attend to my dreams.
