Job 40 - 41 - Legacy Standard Bible

Job 40 - 41

Job Places His Hand over His Mouth

Then Yahweh answered Job and said, 2

“Will the faultfinder contend with the Almighty?

Let him who reproves God answer it.”

3 Then Job answered Yahweh and said, 4

“Behold, I am insignificant; what can I respond to You?

I place my hand over my mouth.

Once I have spoken, and I will not answer;

Even twice, and I will add nothing more.”

Yahweh Will Ask Job

6 Then Yahweh answered Job out of the whirlwind and said, 7

“Now gird up your loins like a man;

I will ask you, and you make Me know.

Will you really annul My judgment?

Will you condemn Me that you may be justified?

Or do you have an arm like God,

And can you thunder with a voice like His?

“Adorn yourself with exaltation and loftiness,

And clothe yourself with splendor and majesty.

Pour out the overflowings of your anger,

And look on everyone who is proud, and make him low.

Look on everyone who is proud, and humble him,

And tread down the wicked in their place.

Hide them in the dust together;

Bind their faces in the hidden place.

Then I will also praise you,

That your own right hand can save you.

Behold the Behemoth

“Behold now, Behemoth, which I made along with you;

It eats grass like an ox.

Behold now, its power in its loins

And its vigor in the muscles of its belly.

It hangs its tail like a cedar;

The sinews of its thighs are knit together.

Its bones are tubes of bronze;

Its limbs are like bars of iron.

“It is the first of the ways of God;

Let its Maker bring near its sword.

Surely the mountains bring it food,

And all the beasts of the field play there.

Under the lotus plants it lies down,

In the hidden place of the reeds and the marsh.

The lotus plants cover it with shade;

The willows of the brook surround it.

If a river oppresses, it is not alarmed;

It is secure, though the Jordan bursts forth to its mouth.

Can anyone capture it before its eyes,

With snares can anyone pierce its nose?

Can You Draw Out Leviathan?

“Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook?

Or press down its tongue with a cord?

Can you put a rope in its nose

Or pierce its jaw with a hook?

Will it make many supplications to you,

Or will he speak to you soft words?

Will it cut a covenant with you?

Will you take it for a slave forever?

Will you play with it as with a bird,

Or will you bind it for your young women?

Will the traders bargain over it?

Will they divide it among the merchants?

Can you fill its skin with harpoons,

Or its head with fishing spears?

Place your hand on it;

Remember the battle; you will not do that again!

Behold, his expectation is a lie;

Will he be laid low even at the sight of it?

No one is so fierce that he dares to arouse it;

Who then is he that can stand before Me?

Who has given to Me that I should repay him?

Whatever is under the whole heaven is Mine.

“I will not keep silence concerning its limbs,

Or its mighty strength or its graceful frame.

Who can strip off its outer armor?

Who can come with its doubled bridle?

Who can open the doors of its face?

Around its teeth there is dreadful terror.

Its strong scales are its pride,

Shut up as with a tight seal.

One is so near to another

That no air can come between them.

They cling one to another;

They are interlocked and cannot be separated.

Its sneezes flash forth light,

And its eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.

Out of its mouth go burning torches;

Sparks of fire leap forth.

Out of its nostrils smoke goes forth

As from a boiling pot and burning reeds.

Its breath kindles coals,

And a flame goes forth from its mouth.

In its neck lodges strength,

And dismay leaps before it.

The folds of its flesh cling together,

Hardened upon it and is not shaken.

Its heart is as hard as a stone,

Even as hard as a lower millstone.

When it raises itself up, the mighty fear,

Because of the crashing they are bewildered.

The sword that reaches it cannot avail,

Nor the spear, the dart, or the javelin.

It regards iron as straw,

Bronze as rotten wood.

The arrow cannot make it flee;

Slingstones are turned into stubble for it.

Clubs are regarded as stubble;

It laughs at the rattling of the javelin.

Its underparts are like sharp potsherds;

It spreads out like a threshing sledge on the mire.

It makes the depths boil like a pot;

It makes the sea like a jar of ointment.

Behind it, it makes a wake to shine;

One would think the deep to be gray‑haired.

There is nothing upon the dust like it,

One made without terror.

It looks on everything that is high;

It is king over all the sons of pride.”