Job 20 – The Amalgamation

I haven’t posted for a month. I had no idea. Too much going on right now to expect a quick change, but hopefully can get back to it in a routine once school starts. After reading this one all the way through at once, my only thought is “If it were only so.”

 

Job 20

Then Zophar the Naamathite spoke out saying:

In truth, my thoughts compel me to answer,

   Because of the feelings within me.

When I hear censure which insults me,

   My spirit of understanding impels me to reply.

This you know, that from our start,

   Ever since we were set upon the earth,

That the triumphing of the wicked is brief,

   The gladness of the impious is fleeting?

Though his stature ascends to the heavens,

   Though his head attains the clouds,

At the height of his triumph, he will perish forever,

   Those who have seen him, will ask “Where is he?”

Like a dream, flying away, not to be found,

   Fleeing like a vision of the night.

The eye that saw him will do so no more,

   Nor will his place behold him again.

His children will seek to appease the poor,

   His offspring must give back his ill-gotten gain.

His bones, stuffed with youthful sin,

   Lie rotting with them into dust.

Though wickedness be sweet in his mouth,

   He conceals it under his tongue.

Though he cherish it, not forsaking it,

   Holds it back, within his mouth,

Yet turns food in his stomach sour,

   Into the venom of asps within him.

The riches he swallowed he vomits,

   God expels them from his belly.

He will suck the poison of serpents,

   The tongue of the viper will slay him.

He will never look upon rivers of oil,

   Streams of milk and honey.

He will disgorge the yield of his toil unswallowed,

   Spewing forth, gains fully restored, not chewed up.

He has forsaken, indeed crushed, the poor,

   Seized houses rather than build his own.

Because he never had respite from his cravings,

   He will not escape with anything he desired.

No remnant is left for him to devour,

   Therefore, his prosperity cannot endure.

In the fulness of his sufficiency, he will be in distress,

   Every hand in misery will come upon him.

To fill his belly to the full,

   God will send His wrath against him,

      And rain it upon him as his food.

Should he flee from the iron sword,

   A bow of bronze will pierce him,

Drawn forth, it comes out through his back,

   The glittering point passing thorough his gall,

      Cast terrors upon him.

Utter darkness is reserved for his hidden treasures,

   A fire unfanned by man, consumes him,

      Devours the remnants of his tabernacle.

Heaven will reveal his iniquity,

   The earth will rise up against him.

The increase of his house will be washed away,

   Pouring out on the day of God’s wrath.

This is the sinner’s portion from God,

   The evil doer’s inheritance from God.

 

Job 187