Like the plowing and breaking up of the earth, our bones are strewn at the mouth of Sheol.
As it is written: “For your sake we are being slain all the day; we are looked upon as sheep to be slaughtered.”
Do they not know better, those who do evil, who feed upon my people as they feed upon bread? Have they not called upon God?
Would not God have discovered this, God who knows the secrets of the heart?
They were stoned, sawed in two, put to death at sword’s point; they went about in skins of sheep or goats, needy, afflicted, tormented.
Indeed, we had accepted within ourselves the sentence of death, that we might trust not in ourselves but in God who raises the dead.