Job 3
The Voice
3 1-2 After all of this, Job opened his mouth and broke the silence. He spoke a curse, not upon God but upon his day of birth.
3 Job: May the day die on which I was born,
along with the night that spoke the words, “a boy is conceived.”
4 May that day of birth become darkness, and when it has disappeared,
may God above neither seek it out nor light find a way to shine on it.
5 Rather, let darkness and the shadow of death claim the day and its life-giving light.
Let storm clouds roll over it and threatening blackness terrorize it.
6 As to that night of my conception—
may it be snatched by the thick darkness of death’s realm,
Never to be released again for any year or any month—
so my conception and life could never have happened.
7 May that night prove infertile,
and may no moan of pleasure be heard there.
8 Bring out the enchanters, the diviners who cast their spells on the day—
who can awaken that beast, Leviathan—
9 And may the early-morning stars be extinguished.
Let the day wait for a light that won’t ever come,
And may it never see the eyelids of dawn crack open.
10 Because it neither closed the door of my mother’s womb
nor covered my eyes to these sorrows.
Reflecting on his conception, Job wishes darkness and death could have prevailed over light and life on that day. The one place that represents such darkness and death is called sheol. Job and his contemporaries believe all people go to sheol when they die. The Bible describes it as the very opposite of the heavens, a land of no return that is dark, dusty, and silent. Certainly this is not the heaven or hell of the New Testament; it is neither a place of communion with God nor a place of torment. One’s comfort after death is not determined by where he goes, but by whom he is with. The people of the Old Testament hope to “leave this world to sleep with their ancestors.” Such a fate is the reward of following God’s path in life.
11 Job: Why did I not die at my birth,
simply pass from the womb into death?
12 Why did my mother’s lap welcome me,
and why did her breasts nourish me?
13 If I had died, then I would now be reposed in quiet;
I would be sleeping in peace,
14 Resting with kings and their earthly ministers
who rebuilt ruined cities to glorify themselves,
15 With princes who possessed gold,
whose houses swelled with silver.
16 Why was I not buried in secret as a baby born still,
as a newborn who never saw light?
17 In the sleep of death, the wicked can do no more damage;
the weary ones at last find rest.
18 In death the captives are freed, together at ease,
and the shouts of their oppressors die along with them.
19 In the grave, together are the small and great,
and slaves from masters are emancipated.
20 Why is light awarded to those distressed,
and life given to embittered souls
21 Who long for a death that can’t be found,
though they mine the earth to find it
More than hidden veins of riches—
22 Who would be overjoyed and glad
when they find the grave?
23 Why is light wasted on the earthbound,
who cannot find their way and whom God has surrounded?
24 For I groan before every meal;
my moaning flows like water.
25 What I feared most descends on me;
my nightmare—now reality.
26 I have no peace; I have no quiet;
my resting, gone, has turned to riot.
Job 3
King James Version
3 After this opened Job his mouth, and cursed his day.
2 And Job spake, and said,
3 Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night in which it was said, There is a man child conceived.
4 Let that day be darkness; let not God regard it from above, neither let the light shine upon it.
5 Let darkness and the shadow of death stain it; let a cloud dwell upon it; let the blackness of the day terrify it.
6 As for that night, let darkness seize upon it; let it not be joined unto the days of the year, let it not come into the number of the months.
7 Lo, let that night be solitary, let no joyful voice come therein.
8 Let them curse it that curse the day, who are ready to raise up their mourning.
9 Let the stars of the twilight thereof be dark; let it look for light, but have none; neither let it see the dawning of the day:
10 Because it shut not up the doors of my mother's womb, nor hid sorrow from mine eyes.
11 Why died I not from the womb? why did I not give up the ghost when I came out of the belly?
12 Why did the knees prevent me? or why the breasts that I should suck?
13 For now should I have lain still and been quiet, I should have slept: then had I been at rest,
14 With kings and counsellors of the earth, which build desolate places for themselves;
15 Or with princes that had gold, who filled their houses with silver:
16 Or as an hidden untimely birth I had not been; as infants which never saw light.
17 There the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary be at rest.
18 There the prisoners rest together; they hear not the voice of the oppressor.
19 The small and great are there; and the servant is free from his master.
20 Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul;
21 Which long for death, but it cometh not; and dig for it more than for hid treasures;
22 Which rejoice exceedingly, and are glad, when they can find the grave?
23 Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?
24 For my sighing cometh before I eat, and my roarings are poured out like the waters.
25 For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of is come unto me.
26 I was not in safety, neither had I rest, neither was I quiet; yet trouble came.
The Voice Bible Copyright © 2012 Thomas Nelson, Inc. The Voice™ translation © 2012 Ecclesia Bible Society All rights reserved.