Let's dive into one tiny, potent verse: "Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon; look from the peak of Amana, from the peak of Senir and Ḥermon, from the dens of lions, from the mountains of leopards" (Song of Songs 4:8).

Now, on the surface, it’s a beautiful invitation. But as Shir HaShirim Rabbah, the rabbinic commentary on Song of Songs, reveals, there’s so much more going on.

The verse repeats, "With me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon." The Rabbis ask, what’s the significance of Lebanon? Levanon in Hebrew, is cleverly connected to levenim, meaning bricks. The Holy One, blessed be He, is saying: “Come with Me from Lebanon.” But what does that even mean?

The commentary goes on to explain that normally, a virgin is given twelve months to prepare for her wedding once her husband asks to marry her, as we find in Ketubot 57a. She needs time to gather all her needs for the big day! But God didn't wait. As the Israelites were still toiling, still engaged in "mortar and bricks" in Egypt, He hastened to redeem them. He didn’t make them wait.

It's a powerful contrast to, say, the story of Ahasuerus in the Book of Esther, who subjected the women in his kingdom to elaborate beauty treatments: “Six months with myrrh oil [shemen hamor], [and six months with perfumes, and with women’s cosmetics]” (Esther 2:12). Rabbi Yehuda bar Yeḥezkel says that shemen hamor is oil of the boxwood. Rabbi Yannai says it's the oil of unripe olives, used to remove hair and soften the skin. But God’s love is different. He saw the suffering, and acted swiftly.

And that brings us to another powerful image: Rabbi Berekhya and Rabbi Yirmeya, citing Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba, recall Rabbi Levi ben Sisi's teaching from Neharde'a. They point to Exodus 24:10: "They saw the God of Israel, and under His feet [was like the craftsmanship [kemaaseh] of sapphire brickwork]." Before the redemption from Egypt, they saw this vision. But after? The heavenly brick, representing the bricks of enslavement, was stored away, its purpose fulfilled. As Rabbi Berekhya says, it wasn't just the brick, but "it and all its accessories were placed there; it, its basket, and its trowel were placed." Wow.

Bar Kappara adds that until the Exodus, the impression of the brick was visible in the sky. But once Israel left Egypt, it disappeared, "as it is when it is clear of clouds," referring to the Targum Yerushalmi on Exodus 24:10. The sign of their suffering was gone, replaced by a clear sky, a symbol of freedom.

The Holy One, blessed be He, then promises to always be with His people. "When you were exiled to Babylon, I was with you," as Isaiah 43:14 states, "For your sake I was sent to Babylon." And the promise extends to the future: "When you return to the chosen House," – meaning the Temple – "I am with you. That is what is written: “With me from Lebanon, my bride." The Temple itself is linked to Lebanon because it was built with cedars from Lebanon!

But then Rabbi Levi asks a poignant question: Why "from Lebanon" and not "to Lebanon"? His answer is striking: First, God departs from the Temple, and then He exacts retribution from the nations of the world. It’s a powerful image of divine justice. Rabbi Berekhya adds that God exacts retribution from Esau and his chieftains at three junctures, citing the three-fold promise in Isaiah 33:10: “Now I will arise, the Lord will say, [now I will ascend, now I will be exalted].”

And finally, Rabbi Shimon ben Rabbi Yannai paints a vivid picture: "As long as [Israel] is wallowing in the ashes, as it were, so is [the Holy One blessed be] He." Isaiah echoes this sentiment: "Shake the dust from you, arise and sit, Jerusalem" (Isaiah 52:2). At that moment, Zechariah proclaims, "Be silent all flesh before the Lord" (Zechariah 2:17). Because, as Rabbi Aḥa says, God is roused "like this hen that shakes its wings free from the midst of the ashes."

So, what does it all mean?

It's about remembering our past, the suffering and the redemption, and knowing that God is with us in both. It's about recognizing the symbols of oppression and celebrating their removal. It's about the promise of future redemption, and the assurance that even in exile, even in the ashes, God is present, ready to shake free and rise with us.

What "bricks" are holding you back today? And how can you find God in the midst of them, waiting to redeem you?