I started fighting back the sleep that comes on you in a hot afternoon after a busy morning and satisfying lunch. The monotonous roar of the van’s tires probably had something to do with it, also. But, truth be told, the main reason I was drifting off was that I was simply worn out from hours of listening to my colleague extol his successes. I was on a trip visiting this distinguished friend and he had been hosting me for a few days. On this day he had taken me to see one of the crown jewels of his achievements, a lovely conference facility in the woods. On the previous days I could tolerate the incessant boasting because I had just arrived and I sincerely enjoyed being with my friend…and I could get away if needed. But today I was locked in the church van and all I could do was smile and nod off.

I so wanted to enjoy our conversation and time together, sharing and comparing notes about our ministry and life’s struggles. I had envisioned a time of listening, sympathizing and advising each other. I looked forward to coming away from my visit encouraged and challenged. Instead, as I drifted off to the place where imagination runs wild, the sound of my friend’s run-on sentences morphed into a dramatic, destiny-laced voice telling me, “He is the ONE.” I groggily thought, “I’ve finally found him. I’ve found Neo.”

As the van struck a bump in the road, my head violently jerked around, shaking me out of my stupor. “Did I just hear him tell me that he’s the ONE?” Watching the dashboard come into focus, I noticed the endless stream of pomposity still filled the air. “No, I imagined that. He’s still droning on.” Surrendering to the enormous weight of my eyelids, I drifted off again. I saw myself and my friend standing in a completely white, featureless environment looking at each other. A deep rich voice coming from nowhere again urged, “He’s the ONE.” Staring at my friend and feeling a bit perturbed, I objected, “If He’s the ONE, then I’m not the ONE. I want to be the ONE!”

Suddenly, a handsome TV set appeared in front of an inviting overstuffed chair. I was compelled to sit in the chair and face the TV. A hand with a remote in it appeared in the corner of my eye, activating the screen. A series of scenes from my life flashed on the tube. In each of the scenes I saw myself or others speaking, all saying the same thing, “I am the ONE. I am the ONE. I am the ONE.” Looking over my shoulder into the whiteness I saw my friend coming towards me performing a series of Kung Fu moves. As he was just about to karate chop my head off, I snapped out of my dream. I awoke to complete silence. My friend was staring at me. At first, I was tempted to plead mercy and confess that he was the ONE, but then I realized that he had asked me a question. Feigning alertness, I asked him to repeat his question. It was about some minor point that really didn’t affect the direction of the conversation and I answered with pleasing brevity. The great long sentence resumed along with the soothing hum of the tires.

I was pretty awake now but my dream lingered. I started to reflect about how hard it is to enter into real communion with people. Insecurity, defensiveness and pride seem to be obstacles that sabotage really getting to know one another. It’s like everyone has got to be the ONE. I suppose that we feel if we’re not the ONE then we won’t be loved, and we’ll just be treated like a clown or a handicapped sub-person worthy of pity. We want to be taken seriously. We want to be treasured.

If we could only see that there is something fishy in our desperate need to be the ONE, we’d all be happier. Relationships can not flourish if we need to be better than one another. Love cherishes the other person not because of what they can do, but because of who they are. We needn’t be on a search to find the ONE or desperately try to be the ONE. We’re all the ONE. And if we can see that, we’ll all be one even as God is one. I turned to my friend, thinking about how wonderful he is, smiled and listened with new ears.