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Moff by section JER 8:1

⌂ ← JER 8:1–8:22 → ║ ©

Jeremiah 8

8 At this time, says the Eternal, the bones of the kings of Judah, the authorities, the priests, the prophets, and the citizens of Jerusalem, shall be torn from their graves 2 and spread out before the sun, the moon, and all the starry host, whom they loved and served, whom they followed and consulted, whom they worshipped; instead of being gathered and buried, they shall be so much dung on the surface of the earth. 3 And wherever I scatter the rest, all the survivors of this evil race, they shall prefer death to fife, says the Lord of hosts.

4 Tell them that this is the Eternal’s word;

Does not a man get up when he has fallen?

Do men not retrace their steps, after a wrong turning?

Then why does this people persist,

when they have taken a wrong turning?

They stick fast to their falsehood,

they will not retrace their steps.

I have listened and heard what they say;

not a word of the truth!--

not a man repenting of his sin,

saying, ‘What have I done?’

Everyone plunges ahead,

like a cavalry charge!

The very stork of the air

knows when to migrate;

the dove, the swift, the crane,

keep to the time of their coming;

but my people never heed

the Eternal’s ruling.

What! you say, ‘We are wise,

we do have his directions’--

when lo, your scribes have written them wrong,

and falsified them?

No, the ‘wise’ shall be discomfited,

dismayed and tricked.

They have rejected the Eternal’s word;

so what ‘wisdom’ have they?

I will destroy them utterly, says the Eternal,

for there are no grapes on that vine,

no figs on that fig-tree--

their leaf is fading!”

“Why sit we still?

Let us gather together

and make for the fortified towns,

to meet our doom there!

For our God has doomed us to perish,

has drugged us with poison,

for sinning against him!

We looked for peace,

but no good came;

for an hour of healing,

and here is dismay!

We can hear the foemen’s horses

snorting as far north as Dan;

at the neighing of his stallions

the whole country quakes;

the land is laid bare, at their coming,

the city stripped of citizens.”

“Yes, I am sending you serpents,

snakes that none can charm;

and they shall bite you,”

the Eternal declares.

My sorrow is past healing,

my heart is sick within me.

Look at my poor people

moaning far and wide--

“Is the Eternal not in Sion?

Has her King left her?

Summer is over, the harvest is ended--

with nothing to keep us alive!”

My poor people, they are broken,

and I am broken-hearted;

I go a-mourning,

seized with dire dismay.

Surely Gilead has balsam!

Surely there are healers there!

Then why does my poor people

get no healing for their wound?