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Cross References

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Proverbs 21:24

The Message

You know their names—Brash, Impudent, Blasphemer— intemperate hotheads, every one.

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15 Cross References  

How well God must like you— you don’t walk in the ruts of those blind-as-bats, you don’t stand with the good-for-nothings, you don’t take your seat among the know-it-alls.

“Simpletons! How long will you wallow in ignorance? Cynics! How long will you feed your cynicism? Idiots! How long will you refuse to learn? About face! I can revise your life. Look, I’m ready to pour out my spirit on you; I’m ready to tell you all I know. As it is, I’ve called, but you’ve turned a deaf ear; I’ve reached out to you, but you’ve ignored me.

First pride, then the crash— the bigger the ego, the harder the fall.

Pride first, then the crash, but humility is precursor to honor.

The irreverent have to learn reverence the hard way; only a slap in the face brings fools to attention.

We’ve heard—everyone’s heard!—of Moab’s pride, world-famous for pride— Arrogant, self-important, insufferable, full of hot air. So now let Moab lament for a change, with antiphonal mock-laments from the neighbors! What a shame! How terrible! No more fine fruitcakes and Kir-hareseth candies! All those lush Heshbon fields dried up, the rich Sibmah vineyards withered! Foreign thugs have crushed and torn out the famous grapevines That once reached all the way to Jazer, right to the edge of the desert, Ripped out the crops in every direction as far as the eye can see. I’ll join the weeping. I’ll weep right along with Jazer, weep for the Sibmah vineyards. And yes, Heshbon and Elealeh, I’ll mingle my tears with your tears! The joyful shouting at harvest is gone. Instead of song and celebration, dead silence. No more boisterous laughter in the orchards, no more hearty work songs in the vineyards. Instead of the bustle and sound of good work in the fields, silence—deathly and deadening silence. My heartstrings throb like harp strings for Moab, my soul in sympathy for sad Kir-heres. When Moab trudges to the shrine to pray, he wastes both time and energy. Going to the sanctuary and praying for relief is useless. Nothing ever happens.

“We’ve all heard of Moab’s pride, that legendary pride, The strutting, bullying, puffed-up pride, the insufferable arrogance. I know”—God’s Decree—“his rooster-crowing pride, the inflated claims, the sheer nothingness of Moab. But I will weep for Moab, yes, I will mourn for the people of Moab. I will even mourn for the people of Kir-heres. I’ll weep for the grapevines of Sibmah and join Jazer in her weeping— Grapevines that once reached the Dead Sea with tendrils as far as Jazer. Your summer fruit and your bursting grapes will be looted by brutal plunderers, Lush Moab stripped of song and laughter. And yes, I’ll shut down the winepresses, stop all the shouts and hurrahs of harvest.

“Note well: Money deceives. The arrogant rich don’t last. They are more hungry for wealth than the grave is for cadavers. Like death, they always want more, but the ‘more’ they get is dead bodies. They are cemeteries filled with dead nations, graveyards filled with corpses. Don’t give people like this a second thought. Soon the whole world will be taunting them:

Herod, when he realized that the scholars had tricked him, flew into a rage. He commanded the murder of every little boy two years old and under who lived in Bethlehem and its surrounding hills. (He determined that age from information he’d gotten from the scholars.) That’s when Jeremiah’s revelation was fulfilled: A sound was heard in Ramah, weeping and much lament. Rachel weeping for her children, Rachel refusing all solace, Her children gone, dead and buried.




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