Context & Key Themes
Chapter 63 opens with one of the most dramatically arresting images in all of prophetic literature. A lone figure is seen coming from Edom, from Bozrah, in garments stained deep crimson. The watchman asks: who is this, coming in splendor, marching in the greatness of His strength? The figure answers: it is I, speaking in righteousness, mighty to save. He has trodden the winepress alone. No one from the nations was with Him. The treading is judgment, and the stains on His garments are from the peoples, not from grapes. He has acted in the day of vengeance — the second half of the sentence Jesus did not read in Nazareth — and the year of His redeemed has come.
The chapter then pivots into a sustained prayer of remembrance and lament, stretching through chapters 63 and 64. The people recall what God did for them in the days of Moses — His steadfast love, His compassion, the way He carried them through the wilderness. And then they turn to their present situation: You, O Lord, are our Father. Our Redeemer from of old is Your name. Why do You make us wander from Your ways? Return for the sake of Your servants.
Key Verse
“I will recount the steadfast love of the Lord, the praises of the Lord, according to all that the Lord has granted us, and the great goodness to the house of Israel that he has granted them according to his compassion, according to the abundance of his steadfast love.”
— Isaiah 63:7
Summary
The chapter opens in a vision of divine judgment. A figure approaches from Edom in garments of crimson splendor. When asked who He is, He declares Himself the one speaking in righteousness, mighty to save — the one who has trodden the winepress of judgment alone, whose garments are stained because the day of vengeance was in His heart, and the year of His redeemed had come. He looked and there was no one to help. His own arm brought salvation. He trod down the peoples in His anger, poured out their lifeblood on the earth.
Then the tone shifts entirely. The prophet recounts the Lord’s steadfast love according to all that He has granted — His great goodness, His compassion, His abundant love. He says: Surely they are My people, children who will not deal falsely. And He became their Savior. In all their affliction He was afflicted, and the angel of His presence saved them. In His love and in His pity He redeemed them. He lifted them up and carried them all the days of old.
But they rebelled and grieved His Holy Spirit. So He turned to be their enemy and fought against them. Then the people remembered the days of Moses. Where is He who brought them through the sea? Where is He who put His Holy Spirit in the midst of them? Who caused His glorious arm to go at the right hand of Moses? Who divided the waters before them? Who led them through the depths like a horse in the desert? The Spirit of the Lord gave them rest. The prayer of remembrance becomes a cry: Look down from heaven and see, from Your holy and beautiful habitation. Where are Your zeal and Your might? The stirring of Your inner parts and Your compassion are held back from us. For You are our Father.
Reflection
The opening vision of the figure from Edom is not incidental to the chapter — it is its theological foundation. Before the prayer of lament can be understood, it must be seen in the context of a God who acts in judgment with power and righteousness. The one the people are about to cry out to is not a distant, passive deity. He is the one who came alone from Edom when no one else would go, who trod the winepress of justice, whose garments bear the evidence of what He did. The prayer is addressed to this God — which is why the prayer has such weight.
The recollection of the exodus in the middle of the chapter is doing important work. In all their affliction, He was afflicted. This is one of the most remarkable statements about divine solidarity in the entire Old Testament. The Lord is not unmoved by the suffering of His people. He does not observe it from outside. In their affliction, He was there, afflicted with them. His love was not a calm, unaffected goodwill. It was a love that went down into the places where His people were suffering and was present there with them. The angel of His presence saved them — not a distant representative, but the presence itself, the very face of God going with them.
The prayer that closes the chapter — where is Your zeal, Your might? You are our Father — is honest enough to sound almost like a complaint. The people are pressing the Lord with His own history, calling on His own character as the ground of their expectation. This is the posture of faith that Isaiah has been building toward across the entire book: not passive acceptance of circumstances, but engagement with the God who has made promises and who can be reminded of them, pressed about them, called to account for them. The watchmen on the walls of chapter 62 are the same voices here.