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The Book of Job

⭑ Unlocked Dynamic Bible :: World English Bible Catholic ⭑

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- Chapter 19 -

Job trusts in his redeemer

1
Then Job replied:
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“How long will you three torment me and discourage me by calling me wicked?
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You have insulted me many times; are you not ashamed for saying these things to me?
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Even if it were true that I had done wrong, I have not injured you!
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If you truly think that you are better than I am, and if you argue that I must be guilty because I am suffering,
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you should realize that it is God who has caused me to suffer. It is as though he has a net and that he has caught me in it.
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I cry out, ‘People are murdering me!’, but no one answers me. I call out loudly, but there is no one, not even God, who acts fairly toward me.
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It is as though God has blocked my road, and I cannot go anywhere; it is as though he has forced me to try to find the road in the darkness.
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He has taken away my good reputation; it is as though he has removed a crown from my head.
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He batters me from every side, and I will soon die. I no longer expect him to do anything good for me.
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He attacks me because he is very angry at me; he considers me to be his enemy.
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It is as though he were sending his army to attack me; they surround my tent and get ready to attack me.
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God has caused my brothers to abandon me, and for all those who know me to act like strangers to me.
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All my relatives and good friends have left me.
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The people who were guests in my house have forgotten me, and my female servants consider that I am a foreigner whom they do not know.
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When I summon my servants, they do not answer; When I plead with them to come to help me, they do not come.
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My breath smells very bad to my wife so she stays away from me, and my brothers detest me.
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Even young children despise me; when I stand up to talk to them, they laugh at me.
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My dearest friends detest me, and those whom I love very much have turned against me.
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My body is only skin and bones; I am barely alive.
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I plead with you, my three friends, pity me because God has struck me very hard.
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Why do you cause me to suffer, also? Do you think you are God? Why do you never get enough of accusing me of doing wrong?
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I wish that someone would take these words of mine and write them permanently in a book in order that people can read them.
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Or else, I wish that someone would carve my words on a rock with a chisel in order that they would last forever.
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But I know that the one who vindicates me in court is alive, and that some day he will stand here on the earth and make the final decision about whether I deserve to be punished.
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And even after diseases have destroyed my body, still, in my body I will see God.
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I will see him myself; I will see him with my own eyes! My emotions overwhelm me as I think about that!
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If you three men say, ‘This is how we will cause him to suffer!’ and you say, ‘He is the one who has caused his own troubles,’
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you should fear that God will punish you; he punishes those like you with whom he is angry; and when that happens, you will know that there is someone who judges people.”
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Job trusts in his redeemer

1
Then Job answered,
2
“How long will you torment me, and crush me with words?
3
You have reproached me ten times. You aren’t ashamed that you attack me.
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If it is true that I have erred, my error remains with myself.
5
If indeed you will magnify yourselves against me, and plead against me my reproach,
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know now that God has subverted me, and has surrounded me with his net.
7
“Behold, I cry out of wrong, but I am not heard. I cry for help, but there is no justice.
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He has walled up my way so that I can’t pass, and has set darkness in my paths.
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He has stripped me of my glory, and taken the crown from my head.
10
He has broken me down on every side, and I am gone. He has plucked my hope up like a tree.
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He has also kindled his wrath against me. He counts me among his adversaries.
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His troops come on together, build a siege ramp against me, and encamp around my tent.
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“He has put my brothers far from me. My acquaintances are wholly estranged from me.
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My relatives have gone away. My familiar friends have forgotten me.
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Those who dwell in my house and my maids consider me a stranger. I am an alien in their sight.
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I call to my servant, and he gives me no answer. I beg him with my mouth.
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My breath is offensive to my wife. I am loathsome to the children of my own mother.
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Even young children despise me. If I arise, they speak against me.
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All my familiar friends abhor me. They whom I loved have turned against me.
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My bones stick to my skin and to my flesh. I have escaped by the skin of my teeth.
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“Have pity on me. Have pity on me, you my friends, for the hand of God has touched me.
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Why do you persecute me as God, and are not satisfied with my flesh?
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“Oh that my words were now written! Oh that they were inscribed in a book!
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That with an iron pen and lead they were engraved in the rock forever!
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But as for me, I know that my Redeemer lives. In the end, he will stand upon the earth.
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After my skin is destroyed, then I will see God in my flesh,
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whom I, even I, will see on my side. My eyes will see, and not as a stranger. “My heart is consumed within me.
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If you say, ‘How we will persecute him!’ because the root of the matter is found in me,
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be afraid of the sword, for wrath brings the punishments of the sword, that you may know there is a judgment.”
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