The World that Isn’t There
Years ago, I read a book by the author Chuck Klosterman titled But What if We’re Wrong? The premise of the book is to attempt to “think about the present as if it were the past,” or in other words, to consider whether despite our current devotion to rationality and the scientific method, there are aspects of our modern world about which we might be profoundly wrong?
In a chapter called “The World that Isn’t There,” Klosterman explores the concept of dreaming:
“For most of human history, the act of dreaming was considered deeply important, almost like a spiritual interaction with a higher power . . . . The zenith of dream seriousness occurred at the turn of the twentieth century, defined by the work of Sigmund Freud (who thought dreams were everything) and his adversarial protégé Carl Jung (who thought dreams were more than everything—they were glimpses into a collective unconscious, shared by everyone who’s ever lived.)”
But all that changed over the course of the twentieth century. As Klosterman explains, when science began to map the brain’s electrical activity in 1924, “from that point forward, dreams increasingly mattered less . . . . dreams were just the byproduct of the brain stem firing chaotically during sleep. Since then, the conventional scientific sentiment has become that—while we don’t totally understand why dreaming happens—the dreams themselves are meaningless. Which seems like a potentially massive misjudgment.”
In the Torah, dreams are anything but meaningless. The Joseph narrative (Gen. 37–50) is dominated by dream motifs. At first, those dreams are the cause of Joseph’s downfall—by sharing his two dreams in which he envisions his family bowing down to him, he raises the ire of his brothers, who conspire to kill him, saying:
וַיֹּאמְר֖וּ אִ֣ישׁ אֶל־אָחִ֑יו הִנֵּ֗ה בַּ֛עַל הַחֲלֹמ֥וֹת הַלָּזֶ֖ה בָּֽא׃
וְעַתָּ֣ה ׀ לְכ֣וּ וְנַֽהַרְגֵ֗הוּ וְנַשְׁלִכֵ֙הוּ֙ בְּאַחַ֣ד הַבֹּר֔וֹת וְאָמַ֕רְנוּ חַיָּ֥ה רָעָ֖ה אֲכָלָ֑תְהוּ וְנִרְאֶ֕ה מַה־יִּהְי֖וּ חֲלֹמֹתָֽיו׃
They said to one another, “Here comes that dreamer! Come now, let us kill him and throw him into one of the pits; and we can say, ‘A savage beast devoured him.’ We shall see what comes of his dreams!” (Gen. 37: 19–20).
Later, in Chapter 40, Joseph’s ability to interpret dreams moves the drama of the narrative further:
וַיַּֽחַלְמוּ֩ חֲל֨וֹם שְׁנֵיהֶ֜ם אִ֤ישׁ חֲלֹמוֹ֙ בְּלַ֣יְלָה אֶחָ֔ד אִ֖ישׁ כְּפִתְר֣וֹן חֲלֹמ֑וֹ הַמַּשְׁקֶ֣ה וְהָאֹפֶ֗ה אֲשֶׁר֙ לְמֶ֣לֶךְ מִצְרַ֔יִם אֲשֶׁ֥ר אֲסוּרִ֖ים בְּבֵ֥ית הַסֹּֽהַר׃
Both of them—the cupbearer and the baker of the king of Egypt, who were confined in the prison—dreamed in the same night, each his own dream and each dream with its own meaning.
And lastly, this week’s parashah, Parashat Miketz, begins with a dream sequence, this time of Pharoah himself:
וַיְהִ֕י מִקֵּ֖ץ שְׁנָתַ֣יִם יָמִ֑ים וּפַרְעֹ֣ה חֹלֵ֔ם וְהִנֵּ֖ה עֹמֵ֥ד עַל־הַיְאֹֽר׃
After two years’ time, Pharaoh dreamed that he was standing by the Nile.
Ultimately, it is the cupbearer’s remembrance of Joseph as someone who could correctly interpret dreams that leads to Joseph’s (and his family’s) salvation.
So how might we as moderns balance our scientific rationality regarding dream interpretation with the mystical potential that our dreams are glimpses into the future?
The Hasidic Rabbi Yosef Patzanovski (1875–1942) attempted to find just this balance in a comment he offers on this week’s parashah.
בדבר החלומות אמרו חכמינו שיש חלומות המתהווים על ידי סיבות גופניות, כגון עיכול המזון, השפעת המזג, המצב הנפשי וכדומה, והם חלומות שווא ואין בהן ממש. אבל יש חלומות שהם הוראה והודעה מן השמים. וחז”ל אמרו (ברכות נז.) חלום אחד מששים לנבואה.
“On the matter of dreams, our sages said that there are dreams which come into being as a direct result of bodily functions, like digestion of food, changes in the weather, the state of one’s mental health, etc. and these are dreams that are inconsequential and meaningless. However, there are other types of dreams which are forms of instruction and enlightenment from the Heavens. As our sages of blessed memory said (B. Talmud Berakhot 57a): ‘Dreams are one sixtieth of prophecy.’”
Undoubtedly, some of our dreams are simply the result of our brains staying active while our bodies rest. But what about those dreams, like Joseph’s vision of his family’s subservience, which feel like glimpses into the future or windows into the past? How can I explain the fact that humans often share the same dream? That one where the university you graduated from 25 years ago tells you that you are a couple of credits shy of graduating? Or what about dreams where we are visited by family members long gone, or friends long forgotten? And what about the Jew by Choice who tells you that they used to dream of their childhood home, but there was a secret door only they knew about, one that led them into a secret part of the home, one they always opened before the dream ended? Each of these dreams may be an echo of prophecy, a gift from God (or our subconscious?) which can offer insight, understanding, and truth; so why would we discount them as merely “the byproduct of the brain stem”?
Perhaps the answer to these questions can be found in Joseph’s consistent approach to the delicate art of dream interpretation. Each time Joseph is asked to interpret a dream, his response is always the same, a humble recognition that it is God, not Joseph, who provides the interpretation.
When the cupbearer and the baker ask Joseph to interpret their dreams he replies:
יֹּאמְר֣וּ אֵלָ֔יו חֲל֣וֹם חָלַ֔מְנוּ וּפֹתֵ֖ר אֵ֣ין אֹת֑וֹ וַיֹּ֨אמֶר אֲלֵהֶ֜ם יוֹסֵ֗ף הֲל֤וֹא לֵֽאלֹהִים֙ פִּתְרֹנִ֔ים סַפְּרוּ־נָ֖א לִֽי׃
And they said to him, “We had dreams, and there is no one to interpret them.” So Joseph said to them, “Surely God can interpret! Tell me [your dreams].”
And again, when Pharoah brings Joseph out of prison to interpret his nightmares on the Nile, Joseph responds:
וַיַּ֨עַן יוֹסֵ֧ף אֶת־פַּרְעֹ֛ה לֵאמֹ֖ר בִּלְעָדָ֑י אֱלֹהִ֕ים יַעֲנֶ֖ה אֶת־שְׁל֥וֹם פַּרְעֹֽה׃
Joseph answered Pharaoh, saying, “Not I! God will see to Pharaoh’s welfare.”
In our modern times, let us not fall into the trap of assuming that our understanding of the world (and even our bodies) is complete and infallible. Instead, like Joseph, let us consistently surrender to mystery, and open our minds to the possibility of prophecy, each time we lie down to sleep.
Rabbi Joel Seltzer is the Vice Chancelor for Institutional Advancement at JTS and it is the 31st anniversary of his Bar Mitzvah.
The publication and distribution of the JTS Commentary are made possible by a generous grant from Rita Dee (z”l) and Harold Hassenfeld (z”l).
