In this season, sacred darkness is our steady companion. The sun sets earlier each night as we approach the winter solstice. Long nights can give us time to dream, get clear on our goals, and make plans we may carry out once the daylight returns.
The Jewish month of Kislev—which began this year on the evening of December 1 and will end at sunset on December 31—also signals the time for dreaming in our Torah cycle.
I’ve noticed, as we head toward Hanukkah, that we hear a lot about light and darkness—often set up as a kind of binary. This kind of either/or thinking can create challenges and narrow our understanding, both of Jewish tradition and of our wider world.
This week’s Torah portion invites us to develop our capacity for both/and thinking, beginning with a sibling conflict and a dream. Yosef, an outsider among his brothers, approaches those brothers to relate a dream:
“There we were binding sheaves in the field, when suddenly my sheaf stood up and remained upright; then your sheaves gathered around and bowed low to my sheaf.” His brothers answered, “Do you mean to reign over us? Do you mean to rule over us?” And they hated him even more for his talk about his dreams.
Yosef offers this dream without explanation or interpretation, perhaps hoping that his brothers will join him in his curiosity. Unfortunately, the generational inheritance of parental favoritism and a zero-sum approach to blessings lead the brothers to respond with escalating jealousy. They cast Yosef into a pit and return to their parents with the story that Yosef was eaten by a wild animal.
From the pit, Yosef is sold into indentured servitude in Mitzrayim, the narrow place, where he once again encounters the topic of dreams. Through his unique ability to interpret the dreams of others, he rises to prominence and power. He is eventually in a position to save his family from famine when they later come to Mitzrayim in search of provisions.
There is a teaching in the Talmud that asserts that dreams are “one-sixtieth of prophecy” (Berachot 57b). In rabbinic literature, one-sixtieth is a symbolic fraction that stands in for something just barely present—not even detectable in flavor, for example, in a mixture of food—but present nonetheless. Dreams are not in and of themselves predictive, our tradition claims, but the way we relate to them and act on them can still have far-reaching consequences.
Yosef is not initially able to make sense of his own dreams; he gains the ability to interpret dreams as he grows. Perhaps it is the added wisdom of distance that makes this possible—or perhaps he needed more time to develop his skills. The kind of discernment Yosef is ultimately able to access requires both dreams and interpretation—both enveloping, restorative darkness and the small spark of insight that outside perspective can bring.
Parshat Vayeshev invites us to consider darkness and light or rest and action not as an either/or proposition, but rather to embrace them all as parts of a sacred, purposeful whole. As the coming week signals both the arrival of winter solstice and the beginning of Hanukkah, we can lean into winter as time for rest and dreaming, embodying the radical potential of restorative downtime.
We can also make room for interpretation and insight, using this time to strengthen our connection to each other and our ritual practices, and build up our strength for the work of creating the world we want to share.
For more on Hanukkah, check out the Jews of Color Initiative’s 2024 Hanukkah resource list, including readings on the holiday. If you want an embodied practice, a recipe, or a song for each night of the holiday, you can also explore Mitsui Collective’s Reflective Resilience Guide.
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Rabbi Gray Myrseth is the Community Rabbi at GatherBay. Originally from San Francisco, Gray was ordained at the Hebrew College Rabbinical School of Newton, MA, and served for six years as Rabbi Educator at Kehilla Community Synagogue in Oakland. Gray has worked as a rabbi, chaplain, and educator with people of all ages, within Jewish institutions and beyond. When not at work, Gray can be found making ceramic Judaica, writing and reading poetry, expounding on the wonders of Talmud study, and enthusiastically exchanging podcast recommendations.