First one, I dreamt I was standing in front of a large tree full of green leaves, dressed as a man of the late 14th or early 15th century.
I had been working hard helping to build a refinery in Torrance, California, and came home so tired I fell asleep. My Bath-Kol said, “If judgment comes too soon MISHIAH will be cut off into a dark night and a host darker than night will arise.”
About a week later I was in my living room smoking a joint when I saw three police officers enter through my closed gate. I swallowed the joint and stood quietly. One looked through my window and shouted, “Someone is smoking marijuana! Get in there!” Three kicks later my front door came flying open and so began my dark night.
A Bath-Kol, as any conservative Rabbi can tell you, is a voice from heaven, and any competent Analytical Psychologist will say it is an emanation from the collective unconscious into consciousness. These dreams are full of archetypal symbolism. A tree can represent a people. An attractive young woman in a white dress and whitecap represents health, hope, and purity. A two-edged sword represents the beginning of war.
I had two Bath-Kol fall upon me in life, one each in two separate dreams, ten years apart. First one, I dreamt I was standing in front of a large tree full of green leaves, dressed as a man of the late 14th or early 15th century. I wore a cloth vest, a short-sleeve shirt striped to each elbow, and brown trousers. My hair hung to my shoulders and I had a large two-edged sword. Suddenly a very attractive young lady in a white dress and whitecap passed some ten to twelve feet in front of me. She gave me a very nice smile and disappeared behind a large bush. When I looked back at my tree, all the leaves had fallen and formed a green ring around the trunk of my now barren tree. “Uh oh!” I had abandoned my post and a disaster had occurred. Just then my second Bath-Kol fell upon me saying, “Because you have done this thing…” Startled by the stern tone and the foolish thing I had done, I woke up. In the 49th year of my imprisonment I remembered it again. I realized I had deprived that tree of one year of its fruitage. In human terms, our generations are some twenty years in man’s time, but not in God’s time.
