Honestly, I wanted to title this entry something to do with toilets. In today’s Daf we get a fascinating discussion of bathroom habits of ancient Babylonia (not our first time in this Tractate). My wife and my mother will confirm that I have considered potty humor to be the highest achievement in comedy since I have been about three years old. However, the bulk of today’s Daf considers the troubling theological status of dreams. Indeed, we will be considering dreams for the next several days. I have decided to try and be more mature and focus today on the dreams, but, in case you need a trigger warning, be forewarned that at some point in today’s post, the potty humor will come.

Perhaps the most well known dream interpreter is Joseph. In chapter 40 of Genesis, we find Joseph imprisoned in Egypt with Pharoh’s cupbearer and his Baker. The Torah does not tell us why Pharoh’s servants are imprisoned, but according to Rashi, they are imprisoned because Pharoh found a fly in his wine and a pebble in his bread. Joseph was imprisoned because he was falsely accused of trying to seduce a high official’s wife. The baker and the cupbearer have troubling dreams. Joseph successfully interprets both dreams (good news for the cupbearer who gets freed, not so good news for the baker who gets executed). Later, in chapter 41, after the cupbearer is freed, Pharoh himself has troubling dreams. None of his necromancers could explain the dreams satisfactorily to Pharoh. The cupbearer tells Pharoh about how well Joseph interpreted dreams and Pharoh summons Joseph. Joseph tells Pharoh his dreams mean that Egypt will have seven bumper years followed by seven years of famine, so Pharoh better prepare Egypt for the famine. Phroh recognizes that Joseph has accurately decoded his dreams and Pharoh makes Joseph Chief Operating Officer of all of Egypt. Ironically, Joseph is in Egypt because his brothers are enraged at his earlier dreams (chapter 37) that suggest that the brothers will one day bow to Joseph (which they end up doing). As a sidenote, in today’s Daf, the Rabbis calculate that there were 22 years between Joseph’s dreams that pissed off his brothers and the fulfilment of those dreams. Therefore, the Rabbis conclude that we have to wait a total of 22 years before knowing conclusively whether a dream will come true or not.

The story of Joseph implies that dreams can predict the future and that dreams have theological significance. The Rabbis of the Talmud are troubled by these implications. The Rabbis can not believe every dream is a prophecy from God. Some dreams are merely a wandering mind. They need to distinguish from theologically significant dreams and other mundane dreams. We begin by looking at a lot of contradictory sources. First, Rav Huna says that bad dreams will not come to evildoers and good dreams will not come to the righteous. This makes the other Rabbis uncomfortable because no discomfort is supposed to come to the righteous (Psalms 91:10 “no harm will befall you, no disease touch your tent”). The Rabbis then discuss what we should do when we have a bad dream or we have a dream that we cannot tell is either good or bad. In both cases, the cures are highly choreographed ceremonies with precise statements, responses and hand gestures. The substance of the dream is not important, nor is the meaning of the ceremony. Instead, we should focus on performing the steps in the recipe exactly as they are written. The description of these rituals meanders into similar descriptions of how to avoid the evil eye when we enter into a new city and how to avoid giving someone the evil eye. Throughout it all, the Rabbis are uncertain if dreams actually convey meaning. Indeed, the Talmud states that if you ask 24 different people what a dream means, you will get 24 different answers. The Talmud concludes that dreams “follow the mouth” meaning that dreams mean what we say they mean. This is very troubling to later commentators and they go through mental gymnastics to reconcile all of the varying positions. We do learn, however, that if immediately upon awakening a verse of Torah comes to mind, then we know that this is prophecy.

We end today’s Daf by noting three categories of dreams that do come true: (i) dreams we have right before waking; (ii) dreams other people have about us; and (iii) dreams which are interpreted within the dream. Some Rabbis include a fourth category of recurring dreams. I have had a recurring dream for years that I can basically glide from trees or buildings so that I am literally soaring like a bird. This dream has never come true, yet, but I will keep you informed if things change.

Our Daf begins by continuing yesterday’s discussion. At the end of yesterday’s page, we concluded with a list of three things that prolong life according to Rav Yehuda: (i) spending a long time in prayer, (ii) lingering at our table; and (iii) spending a long time on the toilet! Today, we begin somewhere I did not expect – a statement that prayers will not be answered, so why should we spend a long time in prayer?  Indeed, we learn that prolonged prayer makes us heartsick.  The implication is prayer is futile.  Remember, the substance of the prayers does not seem important to the Rabbis.  More importantly, we need to focus on saying the correct prayers, with the approved wording, at the correct time in the correct place.  How can we then reconcile Rav Yehuda’s statement that prolonged prayer will extend our life?  Only by expecting that are prayers will not be answered.  When we linger over our table, we have more opportunity to encounter a poor person and offer them food as an act of charity.

Now for the potty humor.  Rav Yehuda concludes that if we spend a lot of time on the toilet, we will live longer.  So, if my wife is reading, yes I do need to read the paper while I go to the bathroom!  We need to reconcile Rav Yehuda’s statement with another source which states that if we spend to much time on the toilet, we will get hemorrhoids (let’s not forget that the Talmud’s mission is to show how the most mundane details of daily life can be made sacred).  This statement about hemorrhoids also notes that wiping yourself with lime, or shards of pottery, or a pebble that someone had already used to wipe themselves, can also cause hemorrhoids.  I assume that all of these must have been common ways of wiping in ancient Babylonia.  How do we reconcile these contradictory statements?  Well, we can distinguish between someone who sits for a long time and reads the Wall Street Journal from someone who squats.  So, again, if my wife is reading . . . .  As proof, the Talmud recalls that a noblewoman told Rabbi Yehudah the son of Rabbi Il’ai, “Your radiant face resembles that of pigbreeders and usurers.”  From the context, the noblewoman apparently thought this was high praise.  Rashi explains this complement by saying that these professions realized fat profits with minimal labor and therefore their faces radiate.  Rabbi Yehudah the son of Rabbi Il’ai replied that he could never have those professions.  Instead, he was radiant because he passed 24 toilets on his way from home to the study hall and he stopped at each one.  I am not sure how Rabbi Yehudah the son of Rabbi Il’ai could have studied much (particularly if he read the Wall Street Journal), but, if I ever have to commute again, I will give his theory a try. 

We also get a list of three things that cause the heavenly court to judge us more harshly: (i) going near a leaning wall (which is dangerous); (ii) expecting prayers to be answered; and (iii) submitting judgments against our fellow humans to heaven instead of a rabbinical court.  The Talmud posits a worldview that scholars debating is the most sacred activity of humans.  In fact, scholars can ignore heavenly voices in debates because the Torah belongs to humans, not the heavens.  In this paradigm of rabbinical superiority, our disputes with our fellow Jews should be resolved by the rabbis, not by God.

We get two more lists of three today.  First, three things that shorten life: (i) refusing to read Torah when called to do so; (ii) refusing to lead the Bircas HaMazon when asked to do so; and (iii) assuming an air of authority.  Second, three things that come from God, not our own efforts: (i) a good king; (ii) a good year; and (iii) a good dream (which launches the whole discussion of dreams and their theological standing).  Despite saying that a good king only comes from God, not from our own efforts, the Daf endorses strongly democracy.  A leader, even a king, cannot be appointed unless we consult the community to be ruled first.  As proof, we turn to the story of Betzalel in Exodus, chapter 35.  Betzalel was the craftsmen who built the tabernacle while the Jews wandered in the desert.  Betzalel was suggested by God to Moses, but rather than taking God’s suggestion directly, Moses first consults the people before agreeing with God.  From this, we learn that there is no legitimate government without the consent of the governed.