Our Gemara on Amud Beis relates that Rabbi Elazar felt his explanation of Rabbi Yochanan was correct since he saw Rabbi Yochanan in a dream. Some commentaries interpret that he merely saw this as a good omen, while others go as far as to say Rabbi Yochanan appeared in a dream and told him he was right (compare standard Rashi to Rashi Kesav Yad).

There are other Gemaras which indicate the reverse—that sages disregarded the halachic significance of their dreams. For example, Gittin (52a) states:

“It is related that there was a certain guardian who was in Rabbi Meir’s neighborhood who was selling land belonging to the orphans and purchasing slaves with the proceeds, and Rabbi Meir did not allow him to do this, as the practice is contrary to Halacha. They showed him in his dream the words: I wish to destroy and you build? He understood this as a sign that God wanted the orphans to suffer financial collapse, and therefore it would be preferable to allow the steward to continue his practice. Even so, Rabbi Meir paid no heed to his dream and said: Words appearing in dreams do not bring up and do not take down; they should not be taken into consideration” (Bava Metzia 86b).

It is a fascinating topic of discussion: how sometimes in Rabbinic literature dreams are taken as ominous portents and at other times not taken seriously. We have other incidents in the Talmud where financial obligations were not impacted, regardless of how powerful the evidence from a dream may be (Sanhedrin 30.) In fact, it is codified in Shulkhan Arukh (CM 55:9) that if one has a dream telling him where a certain amount of money is hidden from his father’s estate—and it actually is an unpaid debt—even if the location and the amount turn out to be uncannily accurate, he has no legal obligation to turn this money over to whomever the dream said it belongs.

On the other hand, in Gemara Nedarim (8b), oaths and excommunications that occur during dreams are to be taken as valid. This suggests that certain types of dreams hold significance and are treated as credible sources of information. The Torah Temimah (Bereishis 37:9) explains that dreams often reflect a person’s preoccupations and thoughts during the day. Therefore, if someone is genuinely concerned about an oath or the possibility of being excommunicated, their dream relating to these matters is given weight and considered seriously. That is, his spiritual concerns, while possibly not totally accurate, have significance. However, in regard to monetary matters, there can be enough inaccuracies to suspend obligation. (Note: This is my interpretation of the Torah Temimah. It is ambiguous, so check it out yourself and draw your own conclusions.)

The idea of dreams being prophetic and their intersection with our unconscious imaginative faculty encompasses a complex spiritual, theological, and psychological interaction. Maimonides, in his work Guide for the Perplexed (II:41), delves into this topic, acknowledging the intricate nature of dreams and their potential prophetic qualities that employ aspects of human imagination as it encounters divine stimuli.

The symbolic, non-cognitive part of ourselves possess a capacity for attunement and recognition of patterns and data. It can manifest in the conscious mind through symbols, imagery, or sudden thoughts. This aligns with the teachings of the Talmud (Berakhos 57b), where Rabbi Yoḥanan states that if a person wakes up in the morning with a verse on their lips, it is considered a minor form of prophecy. Additionally, the Talmud suggests that a dream is 1/60th of prophecy, highlighting the potential significance of dreams as sources of divine communication.

The phenomenon of prophetic experiences extends beyond the Gemara. Many great Rabbis throughout the Middle Ages spoke of experiencing Ruach Hakodesh, divine inspiration. For instance, Rav Yosef Karo, the author of the Shulkhan Arukh, documented his encounters with a personal maggid, an entity that appeared to him and conveyed teachings. His sefer, called Magid Mesharim, provides insights into the divine teachings he received.

An intriguing aspect related to the reliability of these revelations is a conversation between Rabbi Kloft and the Chazon Ish, as recounted by Tzvi Yabrov (Maase Ish, 1998, pp. 119, 187). Rabbi Kloft questioned whether Rav Karo’s halachic rulings in Magid Mesharim, which originated from supernatural sources, should be exclusively followed. The Chazon Ish responded, “Rav Karo’s Magid is also Rav Karo,” implying that the authority of Rav Karo’s Maggidic rulings carries no more weight than Rav Karo himself.

This statement requires nuanced understanding. The Maggid was a manifestation of a spiritual resource within Rav Karo, but not mere figments of his imagination. Rather, while Rav Karo’s Maggid was not fully a separate entity from himself and therefore had no more authority than himself, it was his imaginative faculty grasping and presenting symbolic, non-verbal truths in the best way it could.

This is an important way to understand spiritual and prophetic experiences. The divine is so far beyond our temporal and physical existence that we can only grasp certain ideas in an intuitive, imaginative sense. I will be clear: I am not saying the mystic is imagining something as in making it up. Rather, he is relaxing his hold on the physical, concrete, and sensate world so his intellect picks up spiritual signals and emanations, which his imaginative faculty tries to grasp and represent through symbolic vision.

We have a tradition that the Urim V’Tumim on the Choshen served as an oracle so that kings and leaders could ask questions of the Kohen, and with Ruach Hakodesh the appropriate letters would “light up,” and the Kohen would spell out the answers (see Yoma 73b and Rambam, Laws of Vessels of the Temple 10:11). But why did the letters have to be there on the breastplate in the first place? Why not just have the Kohen meditate and receive the divine answer via a vision?

The answer is along the lines of how we explained prophecy and divine inspiration to work. Because it is difficult for subtle spiritual emanations to be perceived over the din of physical noise and static, there must be some ambiguous, disconnected medium that allows for a projection of the imagination’s perception and intuitive cognition of these non-verbal outflows. Just as old-time photographs or X-rays needed a sensitive medium for the light to embed a pattern, spiritual rays also need some medium that allows release from the physical senses that drown them out. This is why the Kohen’s trance, while gazing at the letters, is key. He needs something to allow his imagination and soul to project their perceptions upon it.