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The Book of Job

Douay-Rheims :: World English Bible Catholic

- Kapitel 19 -

Job trusts in his redeemer

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Then Job answered, and said:
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How long do you afflict my soul, and break me in pieces with words?
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Behold, these ten times you confound me, and are not ashamed to oppress me.
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For if I have been ignorant, my ignorance shall be with me.
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But you have set yourselves up against me, and reprove me with my reproaches.
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At least now understand, that God hath not afflicted me with an equal judgment, and compassed me with his scourges.
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Behold I cry suffering violence, and no one will hear: I shall cry aloud, and there is none to judge.
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He hath hedged in my path round about, and I cannot pass, and in my way he hath set darkness.
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He hath stripped me of my glory, and hath taken the crown from my head.
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He hath destroyed me on every side, and I am lost, and he hath taken away my hope, as from a tree that is plucked up.
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His wrath is kindled against me, and he hath counted me as his enemy.
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His troops have come together, and have made themselves a way by me, and have besieged my tabernacle round about.
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He hath put my brethren far from me, and my acquaintance like strangers have departed from me.
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My kinsmen have forsaken me, and they that knew me, have forgotten me.
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They that dwelt in my house, and my maidservants have counted me a stranger, and I have been like an alien in their eyes.
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I called my servant, and he gave me no answer, I entreated him with my own mouth.
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My wife hath abhorred my breath, and I entreated the children of my womb.
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Even fools despise me; and when I gone from them, they spoke against me.
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They that were sometime my counsellors, have abhorred me: and he whom I love most is turned against me.
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The flesh being consumed. My bone hath cleaved to my skin, and nothing but lips are left about my teeth.
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Have pity on me, have pity on me, at least you my friends, because the hand of the Lord hath touched me.
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Why do you persecute me as God, and glut yourselves with my flesh?
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Who will grant me that my words may be written? Who will grant me that they may be marked down in a book?
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With an iron pen and in a plate of lead, or else be graven with an instrument in flint stone.
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For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and in the last day I shall rise out of the earth.
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And I shall be clothed again with my skin, and in my flesh I will see my God.
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Whom I myself shall see, and my eyes shall behold, and not another: this my hope is laid up in my bosom.
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Why then do you say now: Let us persecute him, and let us find occasion of word against him?
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Flee then from the face of the sword, for the sword is the revenger of iniquities: and know ye that there is judgment.

Job trusts in his redeemer

1
Then Job answered,
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How long will you torment me, and crush me with words?
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”