How vividly Sir George Adam Smith describes Edom in The Book of the Twelve Prophets.
The purple mountains, into which the wild sons of Esau clambered, run out from Syria upon the desert, some hundred miles by twenty of porphyry and red sandstone. From Mount Hor, which is their summit, you look down upon a maze of mountains, cliffs, chasms, rocky shelves and strips of valleys. On the east the range is but the crested edge of a high, cold plateau, covered for the most part by stones, but with stretches of corn land and scattered woods. The western walls, on the contrary, spring steep and bare, black and red, from the yellow of the desert Arabah. The interior is reached by defiles, so narrow that two horsemen may scarcely ride abreast, and the sun is shut out by the overhanging rocks. Eagles, hawks and other mountain birds fly screaming round the traveller. Little else than wild-fowls’ nests are the villages; human eyries perched on high shelves or hidden away in caves at the ends of the deep gorges. There is abundance of water. The gorges are filled with tamarisks, oleanders and wild figs. Besides the wheat lands on the eastern plateau, the wider depths hold fertile fields and terraces for the vine. Mount Esau is, therefore, no mere citadel with supplies for a limited siege, but a well-stocked, well-watered country, full of food and lusty men, yet lifted up so high, and locked so fast by precipice and slippery mountain, that it calls for little trouble of defense.
The ancient capital of Edom was Bozrah (Gen. 36:33; Isa. 34:6; 63:1; Jer. 49:13, 22), but it was later superseded by Sela (i.e. rock). When the latter was captured by Amaziah, king of Judah, he renamed it Joktheel (2 Ki. 14:7), but it later became known as Petra, the Greek equivalent of the Hebrew Sela.
I well remember the first visit we paid to Petra soon after World War II. Dean J. W. Burgon described it as “a rose-red city, half as old as time,” and it was certainly one of the most fascinating places we had ever seen. An hour by plane from Jerusalem Airport brought us to Maan (the biblical Teman) in the sandy desert, where cars rushed us across the desert to Al Ji. Apart from a patch of green here and there, the country was a complete wilderness, with the hot eastern sun in a perfect blue sky above, and the baking sand throwing up its heat from below. The roads were not of the best and, in some places, one wondered whether they were roads at all. Fortunately, it was only an hour’s journey, and Al Ji proved an attractive little village set in a valley of green. It is well-watered and owes much to Ain Musa, or the Spring of Moses, which, the local inhabitants maintain, is identical with Meribah where the waters gushed forth after Moses had smitten the rock (Ex. 17:1-7). There is not, however, the slightest support for the identification.
At Al Ji we left the cars and resorted to our third mode of travel–by horses. The animals from which we had to make our choice were malodorous and dirty-looking and were led by even dirtier Arabs. There was no alternative and we climbed on the backs of these miserable beasts and resigned ourselves to our fate.
At first the path wound down the hillside amid pleasant gardens and vineyards until it came to the narrow gorge of the Siq. This narrow defile is the only entrance to the city of Petra, and a handful of men could defend it against an army. The path ran down the stony bed of the dried-up river and between sandstone cliffs of red and purple towering 200 to 300 feet above. As we penetrated deeper into the mountain, the cliffs seemed to grow higher and sometimes to shut out the light completely. The path twisted and turned as the horses found their way down over the sliding stones.
Suddenly we emerged from the gorge to be confronted by the facade of a great tomb, cut out of the rock. This is commonly known as the Khazneh, or Treasury, but was probably the tomb of one of the Nabatean kings. The huge urn at the top of the tomb bears the marks of bullets fired by those who hoped to smash it and to release the treasure it was erroneously supposed to contain. The Arabs forced the horses to climb up so that we could see other tombs at close hand and then we started to wend our way down to the Petra Hotel. This was composed of a central marquee, in which meals were served, and a few bell tents for sleeping, with overflow accommodation in the caves, or ancient Nabatean sepulchral chambers, surrounding the area. The cave I shared with six other men proved to be somewhat of a bird sanctuary. Light was provided by a candle, stuck in a niche in the wall, and a jug of water provided facilities for washing and shaving.
The original inhabitants of Petra were the Horites, but they were conquered by the kings who captured Lot (Gen. 14:6). Later, they were displaced altogether by Esau and his descendants, the Edomites (Deut. 2:12). Petra is synonymous with the biblical Seir, as well as with Sela (referred to in Jud. 1:36; 2 Chron. 25:12; Isa. 42:11 and Obad. 3). It was later taken by the Nabateans and ultimately by the Romans.
From the central open space, valleys radiate off in all directions and all of them seem to be full of ancient tombs and dwelling-places carved out of the rock. There are nearly a thousand tombs. Houses of two and three storeys are ingeniously carved out of the rock and in some places the streets are in tiers.
Little remains of the old walled city, but to the east are the ruins of the triumphal arch, the public baths, the market place, the gymnasium, and an old temple and a palace. There are still remains of the great theater, the 34 tiers of which once accommodated 2,000 people. We climbed up to 3,000 feet above sea level to two obelisks 20 feet high, and opposite the altar, the principal place of sacrifice, about 900 square feet in area.
Descending, we came to the garden tomb and then the tomb of the Roman soldier, and the Triclinium, the festival hall in which were held commemorative feasts for the dead. On the north side of the theater was the urn tomb, the Corinthian tomb, the palace tomb, the Florentine tomb, etc. We found the imposing el Deir, or monastery, a well-preserved monument; a small altar at its back showed that it was formerly a temple.
As we turned back, a young Arab girl emerged from a cave, carrying a bundle containing a tiny baby, while another little child clung to her skirts. In front of her cave were spread out flat cakes, baking in the sun. In this primitive style she was bringing up her family.
This was doubtless the city to which Obadiah referred when he described the Edomites as dwelling in the clefts of the rock. In ancient days it must have seemed completely invulnerable. Reading the prophet’s book brought the memories back and I turned to the biblical record with renewed interest.
The prophecy of Obadiah is directed against the Edomites, the descendants of Esau, who acquired the name of Edom (or red) because of his love for the red pottage (actually yellow-brown lentils), for which he sold his birthright to his twin-brother, Jacob (Gen. 25:30). The name may also have been derived, in part, from the reddish hue of the mountainous territory of Seir which Esau took for his possession. Despite the brothers’ reconciliation in later life (Gen. 33:4), it seems probable that the strong feelings expressed by Esau regarding Jacob’s deceit and duplicity left a deep impression upon his family, which was subconsciously transmitted to their descendants.
One fact is quite clear, that, although they were so closely related to the Israelites, the Edomites were the inveterate enemies of the people of God. They early developed a characteristic fierceness and ruthlessness, coupled later with a haughty arrogance of spirit. Coveting the rocky stronghold of the Horites in Mount Seir (Gen. 14:6), they drove out the original owners and took possession of it for themselves (Deut. 2:12, 22; Gen. 36:8). The Horites had lived in troglodyte dwellings–caves hewn out of the red sandstone of Petra and other parts of Idumea–and the Edomites flattered themselves that no one could successfully assail their impregnable position. “The brook Zered (Isa. 15:7; Deut. 2:13) formed the northern boundary” of Edom, says one writer, “To the north stretched the plateau of Moab, the south rose the highlands of Edom…characterized by red sandstone cliffs that rise east of the Dead Sea and Arabah in three great steps to the impressive height of more than 5,000 feet above sea level. The rugged territory is very inaccessible and easily fortified. The southern frontier is marked by the Negev, which runs south-east from Ain Sharandel in the Arabah. The desert marks the eastern boundary. The whole, east of the Arabah, is not more than 112 by 20 to 30 miles….In the north and east there are areas for fruitful cultivation, but the land derived its significance and its wealth from its strategic position astride the trade routes between Syria and Egypt…Its inhabitants grew rich and strong on the tolls exacted from transient merchant caravans (Isa. 21:13-14; Job 6:19; Ezek. 27:15, 21, 22; Amos 1: 6-9; Gen. 37: 25).”
Edom’s hatred of Israel was constantly in evidence. When, for example, during the latter’s journey after their exodus from Egypt, Moses sought permission for the Israelites to pass through Edom’s territory by the main highway in order to save a long detour and even promised to pay for any water drunk by the people or their cattle, the Edomites refused the modest request and threatened the use of arms if any violation of their territory occurred (Num. 20:14-21; Jud. 11:17). This was typical of their general attitude. When Saul came to the throne, he made an attack upon them (1 Sam. 14:47), and his successor, David, followed it up by completely subduing them and establishing garrisons throughout the country (2 Sam. 8:14). In the days of Joram, however, they revolted and eventually recovered their freedom (2 Ki. 8:20-22).
When Nebuchadnezzar invaded Judea and captured Jerusalem, the Edomites gloated over their enemies’ calamities and humiliation, and actively aided and abetted the Chaldeans in their onslaught upon the Jews, as foretold in Psalm 137:7-8 (although that prophecy still awaits its final fulfillment). But Obadiah predicted that retribution would follow Edom’s malicious action and that she would be completely destroyed. This prophecy was, of course, partially fulfilled at the time of the Chaldean invasion, but it will be completely fulfilled, as another writer says, in “the last days, when Israel, restored to their land, will be attacked by Edom and kindred nations (Ps. 83). Idumea will be their rendezvous, and the sword of the Lord will be filled with blood (Isa. 34:5-6). Obadiah depicts the Jews themselves as God’s instrument for the destruction of Esau (which agrees with Isa. 11:14; Dan. 11:41), ‘Upon Mount Zion shall be deliverance…the house of Jacob shall be a fire, and the house of Joseph a flame, and the house of Esau for stubble.”
While the ultimate fulfillment of Obadiah’s prophecy may still lie in the future, there are not wanting those who refuse to recognize any literal application of it at all. T. H. Robinson (ibid., p. 11) says, for example, that, by some expositors, “The historical relationships and allusions are played down or discounted altogether. ‘Edom’ is understood as a pseudonym for the powers of chaos, and the whole is placed within the frame of the cosmic struggle pictured in the New Year’s festival.” There are unquestionably basic principles involved and the whole has patently an application to many different periods and circumstances, but it is impossible to discount altogether the historical setting and literal interpretation.