Old/New Testament
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.
4 Standing with Job and his other two friends in the trash heap, Eliphaz the Temanite tried to convince Job his suffering was temporary.
2 Eliphaz: Could you bear it if someone were to speak?
Ah, but who can hold his tongue in such a situation?
3 Look back, and think on the many you have taught;
you have strengthened the weak hands of the suffering.
4 Your words propped up the tottering;
you have strengthened mourners’ wobbly knees.
5 May my words help you in that way, now that trouble arrives and you despair.
It extends its hand, crushes you, and you are overwhelmed.
6 Isn’t your fear of God true confidence
and your unswerving commitment genuine hope?
7 Take pause; scan your memory:
Who ever died among the innocent?
And when have the righteous ever met with destruction?
8 The way I see it, those who pull the pernicious plow,
Who sow sorrow’s seeds, reap the same at harvest.
9 By God’s breath, they meet destruction;
when His anger explodes, they meet their end.
10 O the bluster of humanity!
The lion roars! The king of beasts thunders!
Still the young lions’ teeth are shattered.
11 The old lion dies for lack of prey,
and the whole pride is scattered.
12 Now, listen: a secret word was delivered to me;
my ears caught hold of a whisper.
13 In the anxiety of a nightmare—
while deep sleep falls on humans—
14 Fear took me by my right arm, terror by my left,
and they shook me, they did!—made my bones rattle.
15 Then a wind blew through, a divine breath skimming my face.
Every hair on my body stood on end.
16 It came to a stop, but I couldn’t make it out—
some form there before me, then a hushed voice breaking the silence:
17 “Can a mortal stand innocent before God?
Can a man or even a hero be pure before his Creator?”
18 If God is unsure of His own servants,
and in His holy attendants He finds fault,
19 How much more those whose bodies come from clay,
whose skeletons are dust, are crushed like a moth.
20 From morning to evening, their bodies are broken to pieces,
ground back into dirt, unseen, gone forever.
21 When the cords of their tents are pulled up,
don’t they die, none the wiser?
44 Now recall that our ancestors had a sacred tent in the wilderness, the tent God directed Moses to build according to the pattern revealed to him. 45 When Joshua led our ancestors to dispossess the nations God drove out before them, our ancestors carried this sacred tent. It remained here in the land until the time of David. 46 David found favor with God and asked Him for permission to build a permanent structure (rather than a portable tent) to honor Him. 47 It was, of course, Solomon who actually built God’s house. 48 Yet we all know the Most High God doesn’t actually dwell in structures made by human hands, as the prophet Isaiah said,
49 “Since My throne is heaven
and since My footstool is earth—
What kind of structure can you build to contain Me?
What man-made space could provide Me a resting place?” asks the Eternal One.
50 “Didn’t I make all things with My own hand?”[a]
As Stephen recounts how God has worked with the Jews in spite of their faltering fidelity, his speech up to this point sounds like any good synagogue sermon. In the stories of Abraham, Joseph, and Moses, he narrates the history of God’s work of salvation among the Jewish people in the midst of their repeated struggle with unfaithfulness and idolatry. However, it is one thing for his audience to agree that idolatry was a problem in the past and another when they are charged with the accusation of the same idolatry in the present. According to Stephen, those who reject Jesus are following the same path as the people who rejected Moses to follow idols. Such a strong message strikes a nerve, and Stephen becomes the first martyr of the church because of it.
Stephen: 51 You stubborn, stiff-necked people! Sure, you are physically Jews, but you are no different from outsiders in your hearts and ears! You are just like your ancestors, constantly fighting against the Holy Spirit. 52 Didn’t your ancestors persecute the prophets? First, they killed those prophets who predicted the coming of the Just One; and now, you have betrayed and murdered the Just One Himself! 53 Yes, you received the law as given by heavenly messengers, but you haven’t kept the law which you received.
54 Upon hearing this, his audience could contain themselves no longer. They boiled in fury at Stephen; they clenched their jaws and ground their teeth. 55 But Stephen was filled with the Holy Spirit. Gazing upward into heaven, he saw something they couldn’t see: the glory of God, and Jesus standing at His right hand.
Stephen: 56 Look, I see the heavens opening! I see the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!
57 At this, they covered their ears and started shouting. The whole crowd rushed at Stephen, converged on him, 58 dragged him out of the city, and stoned him.
They laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul, 59 while they were pelting Stephen with rocks.
Stephen (as rocks fell upon him): Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.
60 Then he knelt in prayer, shouting at the top of his lungs,
Stephen: Lord, do not hold this evil against them!
Those were his final words; then he fell asleep in death.
The Voice Bible Copyright © 2012 Thomas Nelson, Inc. The Voice™ translation © 2012 Ecclesia Bible Society All rights reserved.