Saturday, March 26, 2005

Holy Saturday

Every being born of woman is short-lived and full of trouble.

He blossoms like a flower and withers away; fleeting as a shadow, he doees not endure; he is like a wineskin the perishes or a garment that moths have eaten.

It is on such a creature that you fix your eyes, and bring him into court before you!

Truly the days of such a one's life are determined, adn the number of his months is known to you; you have laid down a limit, which cannot be exceeded.

Look away from him therefore and leave him to count off the hours like a hired labourer.

If a tree is cut down, there is hope that it will sprout again and fresh shoots will not fail.

Though its root becomes old in the earth, its stump dying in the ground,

yet when it scents water it may break into bud and make new growth like a young plant.

But when a human being dies all his power vanishes; he expires, and where is he then?

As the waters of a lake dwindle, or as a river shrinks and runs dry,

so mortal man lies down, never to rise until the very sky splits open. If a man dies, can he live again? He can never be roused from this sleep.

If only you would hide me in Sheol, conceal me until your anger is past, and only then fix a time to recall me to mind!

I would not lose hope, however long my service, waiting for my relief to come.

Job 14:1-14 (REB)

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