They saw echoes of that very struggle in the beautiful, often enigmatic, Song of Songs – Shir HaShirim in Hebrew.
Specifically, they found a powerful metaphor in the verse, "For, behold, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone" (Song of Songs 2:11). But what did this verse really mean?
Shir HaShirim Rabbah, a classic commentary on the Song of Songs, offers a fascinating interpretation. It connects the "winter" to a particularly painful period in Jewish history: the enslavement in Egypt. It wasn't just a few years, mind you, but a period loaded with immense suffering and spiritual darkness.
The commentary states: "For, behold, the winter is past,' these are the four hundred years that were decreed upon our ancestors in Egypt." This refers to the prophecy given to Abraham in Genesis 15:13, foretelling the exile. But the verse doesn’t stop there. It goes on, "'The rain is over and gone,' these are the two hundred and ten years." This shorter period represents the actual length of the exile and enslavement in Egypt.
Now, you might be thinking, "Wait a minute, isn't rain part of winter? What's the difference?" Good question!
Rabbi Tanhuma offers a clever explanation: "The primary trouble [of the winter] is the rain." He's saying that while the entire winter is difficult, the rain itself is the most challenging aspect. It's the relentless, drenching element that makes everything else so much harder to bear.
And here’s where it gets even more poignant. The commentary zeroes in on the most intense period of the Egyptian bondage, highlighting the eighty-six years from the birth of Miriam, the prophetess. It’s during this time that "they made their lives bitter [vaymareru]” (Exodus 1:14). The connection is made even more explicit through wordplay, linking the bitterness of the enslavement, vaymareru, to Miriam's name, which itself is linked to maror, the bitter herb we eat at the Passover Seder.
So, what’s the takeaway? It seems the rabbis are teaching us that even within periods of general hardship ("winter"), there are specific, acutely painful moments ("rain") that define the experience. The most intense period of suffering for the Israelites was during the time leading up to the Exodus, a time when even the newborn girls, like Miriam, were seen as a threat to Pharaoh and his oppressive regime.
But ultimately, the verse promises that even the harshest winter, the most relentless rain, will eventually pass. There’s a promise of renewal, of spring, of freedom. And perhaps that’s the message we can take with us today: even in our own personal "winters," we can hold onto the hope that the rain will eventually cease, and a new season will dawn.