The Bloodbath in Edom. By Kai Mester

Reading time: 10 minutes

Anyone reading the following passage from the prophet Isaiah initially feels as though they have fully entered the Old Testament. But could it be that everyone first reads it through the lens of their own experiences with angry people? Through the lens of their own fears?

Who is this coming from Edom, from Bozrah, in crimson robes—adorned in his garments and striding forth in his great strength? “It is I who speak in righteousness, and I am mighty to save.” Why, then, is your robe so red, and your garments like those of one who treads thewinepress?“I trod the winepress alone, and none of the nations was with me. I have crushed them in my anger and trampled them in my fury. Their blood has spattered my garments, and I have stained my entire robe. For I had set a day of vengeance for myself; the year to redeem my people had come. And I looked around, but there was no one to help; I was dismayed that no one stood by me. So my own arm had to help me, and my wrath sustained me. And I trampled the nations in my anger and made them drunk in my fury, and poured out their blood upon the earth.” (Isaiah 63:1–5)

Is this the wrathful God from whom most people have turned away? Some have become atheists or agnostics. Others focus their worship on Jesus as the gentle God of the New Testament or on Mary as a compassionate mother who, according to church tradition, is still alive and receives the prayers of the faithful.

But what does the New Testament say about this passage?

I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse. And the one sitting on it was called Faithful and True, and he judges and makes war in righteousness. And his eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many crowns; and he had a name written that no one knew but himself. And he was clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is “The Word of God.” And the armies of heaven followed him on white horses, clothed in white, pure silk. And from his mouth came a sharp sword, so that he might strike down the nations with it; and he will rule them with an iron scepter; and he treads the winepress, full of the wine of the fierce wrath of God, the Almighty, and he bears a name written on his robe and on his thigh: King of kings and Lord of lords. (Revelation 19:11–16)

And the angel put his pruning knife to the earth and cut the grapes from the vine of the earth and cast them into the great winepress of God’s wrath. And the winepress was trodden outside the city, and blood flowed from the winepress as far as the horses’ bridles, a distance of one thousand six hundred stadia (about 300 kilometers). (Revelation 14:19–20)

Two scenes described in connection with the approaching return of the Messiah to our planet. God’s wrath is therefore very much a reality today, and God Himself—through His Messiah—is indeed treading the winepress.

But is this perhaps about something much deeper and purer than thoughts of vengeance? For many people, wrath means hatred, loss of control, excess, and cruelty. The wrathful person torments his victim and derives satisfaction from it.

Jacob’s prophecy concerning Judah, however, catches our attention in a completely different way: “The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until he comes to whom it belongs; and the nations shall be subject to him. He shall tie his donkey to the vine and his donkey’s colt to the choice vine. He will wash his garments in wine and his robe in the blood of grapes.” (Genesis 49:10–11) That sounds very positive!

I found some statements by Ellen White about Jesus as the one who trod the winepress alone. I’d like to look at them with you now:

Jesus Trod the Winepress Even as a Child

“Throughout his childhood, youth, and manhood, the Messiah walked alone. In his purity and faithfulness, he trod the winepress of suffering alone; and among men, there was no one with him. But now we are granted the privilege of playing a part in the work and mission of the Anointed One. We can bear the yoke with Him and be co-workers with God.” (Signs of the Times, August 6, 1896, paragraph 12)

After all, Jesus told us: “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” (John 14:9) God’s wrathful treading of the winepress thus seems to have more to do with suffering than with hatred. Jesus suffered because of the sins of his fellow human beings—not only because they rejected, mocked, and oppressed him, but because he empathized with them as if he were in their shoes and had committed their sins himself. He took their guilt upon himself and worked for their liberation.

… when he began his ministry

“He fasted for forty days and forty nights, enduring the fiercest attacks from the powers of darkness. He ‘trod the winepress alone; no one of the people was with him’ (Isaiah 63:3). Not for His own sake, but so that He might break the chain that binds people as slaves to Satan. (Amazing Grace, 179.3)

God does not shrink from any self-denial or self-sacrifice in order to overcome evil with good. Is God’s wrath, then, His passionate zeal, His fervent love, which seeks to save every human being from sin and sinners—and suffers unimaginably when a person refuses to be saved?

Jesus Trod the Winepressin Gethsemane

“Our Redeemer trod the winepress alone, and of all people, no one was with him. The angels, who had fulfilled the Anointed One’s will in heaven, would gladly comfort him. But what can they do? Such grief, such agony, lies beyond their ability to alleviate. They have never felt the sins of a lost world, and with astonishment they see their beloved Master brought low by sorrow.” (Bible Echo, August 1, 1892, para. 16)

Is God’s wrath, then, deep sorrow, deep anguish, the deepest compassion—as Jesus experienced it in Gethsemane (meaning “oil press”)? Yet God does not become listless, withdrawn, full of self-pity, or incapable of action because of such depression. Until the very last moment, He continually grants sinners the breath of life, keeps their hearts beating, their brains functioning, grants them sight, the ability to speak, and muscular strength; He tries to motivate them and move them toward repentance, even when they use all these gifts against one another with the worst cruelty, leading to a bloodbath. He Himself “bleeds”—first and most of all.

“Prophecy had declared that the ‘Mighty One,’ the Holy One of Mount Paran, would tread the winepress alone; ‘there was no one of the people’ with Him. With His own arm He brought salvation; he was ready for the sacrifice. The terrifying crisis was over. The agony that only God could endure, the Messiah had borne [in Gethsemane].” (Signs of the Times, December 9, 1897, para. 3)

God’s wrath is a willingness to sacrifice, the superhuman endurance of the agony that Jesus felt in Gethsemane, but which broke His heart on the cross. “Human wrath does not do what is right in God’s sight.” (James 1:19) God alone will seal as His own “those who groan and lament over all the abominations” (Ezekiel 9:4) taking place in Jerusalem—His church, indeed His world. For they are filled with His Spirit, experience divine wrath, and are one with God’s feelings: nothing but compassion, nothing but passionate, selfless, saving love.

… and on Golgotha

“He trod the winepress all alone. Of all the people, not one stood by Him. While the soldiers carried out their terrible work and He suffered the greatest anguish of the soul, He prayed for His enemies: ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing!’ (Luke 23:34) That plea for His enemies encompassed the whole world and included every sinner until the end of time.” (History of Redemption, 211.1)

No one has shown us God’s willingness to forgive as clearly as Jesus, His Word made flesh, His thought made audible. In His heart, God has forgiven every sinner, for that is His very nature. His willingness to forgive knows no bounds. Its limit is reached only when the sinner refuses to acknowledge it or seeks an acquittal that does not change his heart. And it is precisely this willingness to forgive that suffers the most, spurring us on to the greatest effort at salvation—as if someone were directing ever more deadly torrents of water into such channels that those willing to be saved are protected, and as many as possible ofthose unwilling to be savedmight still be saved. God does this at the cost of the greatest sacrifices.

“Just as Adam and Eve were banished from Eden because they had transgressed God’s law, so the Messiah was to suffer outside the boundaries of the sanctuary. He died outside the camp, where criminals and murderers were executed. There He trod the winepress of suffering alone, bearing the punishment that should have fallen upon the sinner. How profound and significant are the words: ‘Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us.’ He went out beyond the camp, thereby showing that He gave His life not only for the Jewish nation but for the whole world (Youth Instructor, June 28, 1900).“ (Seventh-day Adventist Bible Commentary, 934.21)

Golgotha was God’s greatest sacrifice of all. In His Son, the Father, so to speak, suffered the fate of the wicked firsthand. No sinner can rightly claim to be in a more pitiful position before God. On the contrary: No creature—not even Satan—is capable, within the limits of its finite mind, of fully comprehending and feeling the consequences of every single sin in all their facets. Only the almighty, all-knowing, and omnipresent God is capable of this.

“The Redeemer trod the winepress of suffering alone, and among all people there was no one with him. And yet he was not alone. He had said, ‘I and the Father are one.’ God suffered with his Son. Human beings cannot comprehend the sacrifice that the infinite God made by delivering His Son to shame, torment, and death. This is proof of the Father’s boundless love for humanity.” (Spirit of Prophecy 3, 100.1)

Boundless love, incomprehensible suffering. These are the hallmarks of God’s wrath. The willingness to respect the decisions of His creatures and to let them rush toward their doom—yes, even to channel their cruelty in such a way that His plan of salvation is thereby brought to fruition even more effectively. All of this is God’s wrath.

To conclude, a paraphrase of our opening passage:

Who is this coming from the battlefield, with crimson garments from Bozrah, so adorned in his robes and striding forth in his great power? “It is I who speak in righteousness and have the power to save.” Why, then, is your robe so red, and are your garments like those of one who treads the winepress? “I offer a bloody sacrifice that no human can offer. I have walked with the nations through deep suffering in my passionate, saving love; I have sent them my Son, allowing him to experience the deepest suffering himself, so that I might reveal myself to them as an equal. Either they were freed from their old selves in this winepress by “my blood,” or their refusal will destroy them. In any case, their blood is also my blood, all too clearly revealed in the blood of my Son. It has been splattered onto the garments of my heart, and I have defiled the very robe of my soul with this event. For I had resolved to solve the problem once and for all through my complete self-sacrifice; the year to set my own free had come. And I looked around, but there was no one to help, and I was dismayed that no one stood by me. So my own arm had to help me, and my passionate resolve stood by me. I have often let people feel, right to the bitter end, what the consequences of their estrangement from God are—so agitated was I—and I have let them slide into the bloodbath that was the logical consequence of their decisions. For I long for some to wake up through this and allow themselves to be saved, and for the tragic chapter of sin to finally come to an end.” (Paraphrase based on Isaiah 63:1–5)

Let us become part of the movement through which God wants to give people today this glimpse into His heart, so that they may fall in love with His merciful and almighty nature.