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Cross References

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Genesis 3:17

The Message

He told the Man: “Because you listened to your wife and ate from the tree That I commanded you not to eat from, ‘Don’t eat from this tree,’ The very ground is cursed because of you; getting food from the ground Will be as painful as having babies is for your wife; you’ll be working in pain all your life long. The ground will sprout thorns and weeds, you’ll get your food the hard way, Planting and tilling and harvesting, sweating in the fields from dawn to dusk, Until you return to that ground yourself, dead and buried; you started out as dirt, you’ll end up dirt.”

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28 Cross References  

God said, “Who told you that you were naked? Did you eat from that tree I told you not to eat from?”

When the Woman saw that the tree looked like good eating and realized what she would get out of it—she’d know everything!—she took and ate the fruit and then gave some to her husband, and he ate.

“We’re all adrift in the same boat: too few days, too many troubles. We spring up like wildflowers in the desert and then wilt, transient as the shadow of a cloud. Do you occupy your time with such fragile wisps? Why even bother hauling me into court? There’s nothing much to us to start with; how do you expect us to amount to anything? Mortals have a limited life span. You’ve already decided how long we’ll live— you set the boundary and no one can cross it. So why not give us a break? Ease up! Even ditchdiggers get occasional days off. For a tree there is always hope. Chop it down and it still has a chance— its roots can put out fresh sprouts. Even if its roots are old and gnarled, its stump long dormant, At the first whiff of water it comes to life, buds and grows like a sapling. But men and women? They die and stay dead. They breathe their last, and that’s it. Like lakes and rivers that have dried up, parched reminders of what once was, So mortals lie down and never get up, never wake up again—never. Why don’t you just bury me alive, get me out of the way until your anger cools? But don’t leave me there! Set a date when you’ll see me again. If we humans die, will we live again? That’s my question. All through these difficult days I keep hoping, waiting for the final change—for resurrection! Homesick with longing for the creature you made, you’ll call—and I’ll answer! You’ll watch over every step I take, but you won’t keep track of my missteps. My sins will be stuffed in a sack and thrown into the sea—sunk in deep ocean.

“Still, how often does it happen that the wicked fail, or disaster strikes, or they get their just deserts? How often are they blown away by bad luck? Not very often. You might say, ‘God is saving up the punishment for their children.’ I say, ‘Give it to them right now so they’ll know what they’ve done!’ They deserve to experience the effects of their evil, feel the full force of God’s wrath firsthand. What do they care what happens to their families after they’re safely tucked away in the grave?

Then I took a good look at everything I’d done, looked at all the sweat and hard work. But when I looked, I saw nothing but smoke. Smoke and spitting into the wind. There was nothing to any of it. Nothing.

I hate life. As far as I can see, what happens on earth is a bad business. It’s smoke—and spitting into the wind.

“He will answer them, ‘I’m telling the solemn truth: Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me—you failed to do it to me.’

“He said, ‘You’re right that I don’t suffer fools gladly—and you’ve acted the fool! Why didn’t you at least invest the money in securities so I would have gotten a little interest on it?’




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