Job: There is no mediator
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And Job answers and says:
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“Truly I have known that [it is] so, || But how is man righteous with God?
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If he delights to strive with Him—He does not answer him one of a thousand.
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Wise in heart and strong in power—Who has hardened toward Him and is at peace?
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Who is removing mountains, || And they have not known, || Who has overturned them in His anger.
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Who is shaking earth from its place, || And its pillars move themselves.
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Who is commanding to the sun, and it does not rise, || And the stars He seals up.
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Stretching out the heavens by Himself, || And treading on the heights of the sea,
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Making the Great Bear, Orion, and the Pleiades, || And the inner chambers of the south.
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Doing great things until there is no searching, || And wonderful, until there is no numbering.
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Behold, He goes over by me, and I do not see, || And He passes on, and I do not attend to it.
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Behold, He snatches away, who brings it back? Who says to Him, What [are] You doing?
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God does not turn back His anger, || Proud helpers have bowed under Him.
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How much less do I answer Him? Choose out my words with Him?
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Whom, though I were righteous, I do not answer, || For my judgment I make supplication.
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Though I had called and He answers me, I do not believe that He gives ear [to] my voice.
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Because He bruises me with a storm, || And has multiplied my wounds for nothing.
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He does not permit me to refresh my spirit, || But fills me with bitter things.
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If of power, behold, the Strong One; And if of judgment—who convenes me?
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If I am righteous, my mouth declares me wicked; [If] I am perfect, it declares me perverse.
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I am perfect; I do not know my soul, I despise my life.
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It is the same thing, therefore I said, || He is consuming the perfect and the wicked.
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If a scourge puts to death suddenly, He laughs at the trial of the innocent.
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Earth has been given || Into the hand of the wicked. He covers the faces of her judges, || If not—where, who [is] he?
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My days have been swifter than a runner, || They have fled, they have not seen good,
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They have passed on with ships of reed, || As an eagle darts on food.
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Though I say, I forget my talking, || I forsake my corner, and I brighten up!
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I have been afraid of all my griefs, || I have known that You do not acquit me.
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I become wicked; why [is] this? I labor [in] vain.
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If I have washed myself with snow-water, || And purified my hands with soap,
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Then You dip me in corruption, || And my garments have detested me.
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But if a man like myself—I answer Him, || We come together into judgment.
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If there were a mediator between us, || He places his hand on us both.
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He turns aside His rod from off me, || And His terror does not make me afraid,
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I speak, and do not fear Him, but I am not right with myself.”
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