Strange Communion Dream

I awoke from another very strange dream.  I was in a cathedral and our old rector from St. Paul's was officiating.  When it came time to go to the Altar Rail for the Bread and Wine, I realized that I was only wearing my cross and my boxers, naked.  Cindy said not to worry about it.  Then I was on a train, traveling through native Indian land, a sovereign country up North somewhere in what is now Canada.  I was still unclothed and found an old pair of acid washed jeans that had my name written on them on the tag on the inside, in pen in my handwriting.  The train left the tracks after a junction, and somehow I got it back on the tracks by myself, hiding the fact as I was supposed to throw the switch I think.  We arrived at another church where there were two priests officiating, and it felt really off.  We started by eating a meal in the church, which was nasty.  It was like the filling of chicken pot pie, but past it's best before date or something.  We left this to go to an attached chapel at the back of the church for a sort of communion.  The two priests officiated, and an impromptu assistance was given from somebody in the crowd to distribute the elements, two cups of wine with no bread.  There was mention of a father and a son, but no spirit.  One of the officiants said that they were different, just as one could distinguish between the father and son.  We were to drink from both cups at the same time, messy.  Gut feeling, the whole thing seemed really wrong in my bones.  Cindy drank and I did not.  Although I was in the communion line, I somehow missed the elements.  We returned to the church to finish eating and Cindy said she felt sick.  I then woke from my strange dream.