Bible Readings for September 7, 2012

Today our passages are Song of Solomon 1:1–8:14; 2 Corinthians 8:16–9:15; Psalm 49:1–51:19; and Proverbs 22:22-25. The readings are from The Message by Eugene H. Peterson.

 

Song of Solomon 1-8:14 (The Message)

Song of Solomon 1

 ¹The Song—best of all songs—Solomon's song! The Woman  ^2-3 Kiss me—full on the mouth!
   Yes! For your love is better than wine,
   headier than your aromatic oils.
The syllables of your name murmur like a meadow brook.
   No wonder everyone loves to say your name!

 ⁴ Take me away with you! Let's run off together!
   An elopement with my King-Lover!
We'll celebrate, we'll sing,
   we'll make great music.
Yes! For your love is better than vintage wine.
   Everyone loves you—of course! And why not?

 ^5-6 I am weathered but still elegant,
   oh, dear sisters in Jerusalem,
Weather-darkened like Kedar desert tents,
   time-softened like Solomon's Temple hangings.
Don't look down on me because I'm dark,
   darkened by the sun's harsh rays.
My brothers ridiculed me and sent me to work in the fields.
   They made me care for the face of the earth,
   but I had no time to care for my own face.

 ⁷ Tell me where you're working
   —I love you so much—
Tell me where you're tending your flocks,
   where you let them rest at noontime.
Why should I be the one left out,
   outside the orbit of your tender care?

The Man

 ⁸ If you can't find me, loveliest of all women,
   it's all right. Stay with your flocks.
Lead your lambs to good pasture.
   Stay with your shepherd neighbors.

 ^9-11 You remind me of Pharaoh's
   well-groomed and satiny mares.
Pendant earrings line the elegance of your cheeks;
   strands of jewels illumine the curve of your throat.
I'm making jewelry for you, gold and silver jewelry
   that will mark and accent your beauty.

The Woman

 ^12-14 When my King-Lover lay down beside me,
   my fragrance filled the room.
His head resting between my breasts—
   the head of my lover was a sachet of sweet myrrh.
My beloved is a bouquet of wildflowers
   picked just for me from the fields of Engedi.

The Man

 ¹⁵ Oh, my dear friend! You're so beautiful!
   And your eyes so beautiful—like doves!

The Woman

 ^16-17 And you, my dear lover—you're so handsome!
   And the bed we share is like a forest glen.
We enjoy a canopy of cedars
   enclosed by cypresses, fragrant and green.

Song of Solomon 2

    I'm just a wildflower picked from the plains of Sharon, a lotus blossom from the valley pools.

The Man

 ² A lotus blossoming in a swamp of weeds—
   that's my dear friend among the girls in the village.

The Woman

 ^3-4 As an apricot tree stands out in the forest,
   my lover stands above the young men in town.
All I want is to sit in his shade,
   to taste and savor his delicious love.
He took me home with him for a festive meal,
   but his eyes feasted on me!

 ^5-6 Oh! Give me something refreshing to eat—and quickly!
   Apricots, raisins—anything. I'm about to faint with love!
His left hand cradles my head,
   and his right arm encircles my waist!

 ⁷ Oh, let me warn you, sisters in Jerusalem,
   by the gazelles, yes, by all the wild deer:
Don't excite love, don't stir it up,
   until the time is ripe—and you're ready.

 ^8-10 Look! Listen! There's my lover!
   Do you see him coming?
Vaulting the mountains,
   leaping the hills.
My lover is like a gazelle, graceful;
   like a young stag, virile.
Look at him there, on tiptoe at the gate,
   all ears, all eyes—ready!
My lover has arrived
   and he's speaking to me!

The Man

 ^10-14 Get up, my dear friend,
   fair and beautiful lover—come to me!
Look around you: Winter is over;
   the winter rains are over, gone!
Spring flowers are in blossom all over.
   The whole world's a choir—and singing!
Spring warblers are filling the forest
   with sweet arpeggios.
Lilacs are exuberantly purple and perfumed,
   and cherry trees fragrant with blossoms.
Oh, get up, dear friend,
   my fair and beautiful lover—come to me!
Come, my shy and modest dove—
   leave your seclusion, come out in the open.
Let me see your face,
   let me hear your voice.
For your voice is soothing
   and your face is ravishing.

The Woman

 ¹⁵ Then you must protect me from the foxes,
   foxes on the prowl,
Foxes who would like nothing better
   than to get into our flowering garden.

 ^16-17 My lover is mine, and I am his.
   Nightly he strolls in our garden,
Delighting in the flowers
   until dawn breathes its light and night slips away.    Turn to me, dear lover.
   Come like a gazelle.
Leap like a wild stag
   on delectable mountains!

Song of Solomon 3

    Restless in bed and sleepless through the night, I longed for my lover.
   I wanted him desperately. His absence was painful.
So I got up, went out and roved the city,
   hunting through streets and down alleys.
I wanted my lover in the worst way!
   I looked high and low, and didn't find him.
And then the night watchmen found me
   as they patrolled the darkened city.
   "Have you seen my dear lost love?" I asked.
No sooner had I left them than I found him,
   found my dear lost love.
I threw my arms around him and held him tight,
   wouldn't let him go until I had him home again,
   safe at home beside the fire.

 ⁵ Oh, let me warn you, sisters in Jerusalem,
   by the gazelles, yes, by all the wild deer:
Don't excite love, don't stir it up,
   until the time is ripe—and you're ready.

 ^6-10 What's this I see, approaching from the desert,
   raising clouds of dust,
Filling the air with sweet smells
   and pungent aromatics?
Look! It's Solomon's carriage,
   carried and guarded by sixty soldiers,
   sixty of Israel's finest,
All of them armed to the teeth,
   trained for battle,
   ready for anything, anytime.
King Solomon once had a carriage built
   from fine-grained Lebanon cedar.
He had it framed with silver and roofed with gold.
   The cushions were covered with a purple fabric,
   the interior lined with tooled leather.

 ¹¹ Come and look, sisters in Jerusalem.
   Oh, sisters of Zion, don't miss this!
My King-Lover,
   dressed and garlanded for his wedding,
   his heart full, bursting with joy!

Song of Solomon 4

The Man

 ^1-5 You're so beautiful, my darling, so beautiful, and your dove eyes are veiled
By your hair as it flows and shimmers,
   like a flock of goats in the distance
   streaming down a hillside in the sunshine.
Your smile is generous and full—
   expressive and strong and clean.
Your lips are jewel red,
   your mouth elegant and inviting,
   your veiled cheeks soft and radiant.
The smooth, lithe lines of your neck
   command notice—all heads turn in awe and admiration!
Your breasts are like fawns,
   twins of a gazelle, grazing among the first spring flowers.

 ^6-7 The sweet, fragrant curves of your body,
   the soft, spiced contours of your flesh
Invite me, and I come. I stay
   until dawn breathes its light and night slips away.
You're beautiful from head to toe, my dear love,
   beautiful beyond compare, absolutely flawless.

 ^8-15 Come with me from Lebanon, my bride.
   Leave Lebanon behind, and come.
Leave your high mountain hideaway.
   Abandon your wilderness seclusion,
Where you keep company with lions
   and panthers guard your safety.
You've captured my heart, dear friend.
   You looked at me, and I fell in love.
   One look my way and I was hopelessly in love!
How beautiful your love, dear, dear friend—
   far more pleasing than a fine, rare wine,
   your fragrance more exotic than select spices.
The kisses of your lips are honey, my love,
   every syllable you speak a delicacy to savor.
Your clothes smell like the wild outdoors,
   the ozone scent of high mountains.
Dear lover and friend, you're a secret garden,
   a private and pure fountain.
Body and soul, you are paradise,
   a whole orchard of succulent fruits—
Ripe apricots and peaches,
   oranges and pears;
Nut trees and cinnamon,
   and all scented woods;
Mint and lavender,
   and all herbs aromatic;
A garden fountain, sparkling and splashing,
   fed by spring waters from the Lebanon mountains.

The Woman

 ¹⁶ Wake up, North Wind,
   get moving, South Wind!
Breathe on my garden,
   fill the air with spice fragrance.    Oh, let my lover enter his garden!
   Yes, let him eat the fine, ripe fruits.

Song of Solomon 5

The Man

 ¹ I went to my garden, dear friend, best lover! breathed the sweet fragrance.
I ate the fruit and honey,
   I drank the nectar and wine.    Celebrate with me, friends!
   Raise your glasses—"To life! To love!"

The Woman

 ² I was sound asleep, but in my dreams I was wide awake.
   Oh, listen! It's the sound of my lover knocking, calling!

The Man

"Let me in, dear companion, dearest friend,
   my dove, consummate lover!
I'm soaked with the dampness of the night,
   drenched with dew, shivering and cold."

The Woman

 ³ "But I'm in my nightgown—do you expect me to get dressed?
   I'm bathed and in bed—do you want me to get dirty?"

 ^4-7 But my lover wouldn't take no for an answer,
   and the longer he knocked, the more excited I became.
I got up to open the door to my lover,
   sweetly ready to receive him,
Desiring and expectant
   as I turned the door handle.
But when I opened the door he was gone.
   My loved one had tired of waiting and left.
And I died inside—oh, I felt so bad!
   I ran out looking for him
But he was nowhere to be found.
   I called into the darkness—but no answer.
The night watchmen found me
   as they patrolled the streets of the city.
They slapped and beat and bruised me,
   ripping off my clothes,
These watchmen,
   who were supposed to be guarding the city.

 ⁸ I beg you, sisters in Jerusalem—
   if you find my lover,
Please tell him I want him,
   that I'm heartsick with love for him.

The Chorus

 ⁹ What's so great about your lover, fair lady?
What's so special about him that you beg for our help?

The Woman

 ^10-16 My dear lover glows with health—
   red-blooded, radiant!
He's one in a million.
   There's no one quite like him!
My golden one, pure and untarnished,
   with raven black curls tumbling across his shoulders.
His eyes are like doves, soft and bright,
   but deep-set, brimming with meaning, like wells of water.
His face is rugged, his beard smells like sage,
   His voice, his words, warm and reassuring.
Fine muscles ripple beneath his skin,
   quiet and beautiful.
His torso is the work of a sculptor,
   hard and smooth as ivory.
He stands tall, like a cedar,
   strong and deep-rooted,
A rugged mountain of a man,
   aromatic with wood and stone.
His words are kisses, his kisses words.
   Everything about him delights me, thrills me
      through and through!    That's my lover, that's my man,
   dear Jerusalem sisters.

Song of Solomon 6

The Chorus

 ¹ So where has this love of yours gone, fair one?
Where on earth can he be?
   Can we help you look for him?

The Woman

 ^2-3 Never mind. My lover is already on his way to his garden,
   to browse among the flowers, touching the colors and forms.
I am my lover's and my lover is mine.
   He caresses the sweet-smelling flowers.

The Man

 ^4-7 Dear, dear friend and lover,
   you're as beautiful as Tirzah, city of delights,
Lovely as Jerusalem, city of dreams,
   the ravishing visions of my ecstasy.
Your beauty is too much for me—I'm in over my head.
   I'm not used to this! I can't take it in.
Your hair flows and shimmers
   like a flock of goats in the distance
   streaming down a hillside in the sunshine.
Your smile is generous and full—
   expressive and strong and clean.
Your veiled cheeks
   are soft and radiant.

 ^8-9 There's no one like her on earth,
   never has been, never will be.
She's a woman beyond compare.
   My dove is perfection,
Pure and innocent as the day she was born,
   and cradled in joy by her mother.
Everyone who came by to see her
   exclaimed and admired her—
All the fathers and mothers, the neighbors and friends,
   blessed and praised her:

 ¹⁰ "Has anyone ever seen anything like this—
   dawn-fresh, moon-lovely, sun-radiant,
   ravishing as the night sky with its galaxies of stars?"

 ^11-12 One day I went strolling through the orchard,
   looking for signs of spring,
Looking for buds about to burst into flower,
   anticipating readiness, ripeness.
Before I knew it my heart was raptured,
   carried away by lofty thoughts!

 ¹³ Dance, dance, dear Shulammite, Angel-Princess!
   Dance, and we'll feast our eyes on your grace!
Everyone wants to see the Shulammite dance
   her victory dances of love and peace.

Song of Solomon 7

    Shapely and graceful your sandaled feet, and queenly your movement—
Your limbs are lithe and elegant,
   the work of a master artist.
Your body is a chalice,
   wine-filled.
Your skin is silken and tawny
   like a field of wheat touched by the breeze.
Your breasts are like fawns,
   twins of a gazelle.
Your neck is carved ivory, curved and slender.
   Your eyes are wells of light, deep with mystery.
   Quintessentially feminine!
Your profile turns all heads,
   commanding attention.
The feelings I get when I see the high mountain ranges
   —stirrings of desire, longings for the heights—
Remind me of you,
   and I'm spoiled for anyone else!
Your beauty, within and without, is absolute,
   dear lover, close companion.
You are tall and supple, like the palm tree,
   and your full breasts are like sweet clusters of dates.
I say, "I'm going to climb that palm tree!
   I'm going to caress its fruit!"
Oh yes! Your breasts
   will be clusters of sweet fruit to me,
Your breath clean and cool like fresh mint,
   your tongue and lips like the best wine.

The Woman

 ^9-12 Yes, and yours are, too—my love's kisses
   flow from his lips to mine.
I am my lover's.
   I'm all he wants. I'm all the world to him!
Come, dear lover—
   let's tramp through the countryside.
Let's sleep at some wayside inn,
   then rise early and listen to bird-song.
Let's look for wildflowers in bloom,
   blackberry bushes blossoming white,
Fruit trees festooned
   with cascading flowers.
And there I'll give myself to you,
   my love to your love!

 ¹³ Love-apples drench us with fragrance,
   fertility surrounds, suffuses us,
Fruits fresh and preserved
   that I've kept and saved just for you, my love.

Song of Solomon 8

    I wish you'd been my twin brother, sharing with me the breasts of my mother,
Playing outside in the street,
   kissing in plain view of everyone,
   and no one thinking anything of it.
I'd take you by the hand and bring you home
   where I was raised by my mother.
You'd drink my wine
   and kiss my cheeks.

 ^3-4 Imagine! His left hand cradling my head,
   his right arm around my waist!
Oh, let me warn you, sisters in Jerusalem:
   Don't excite love, don't stir it up,
   until the time is ripe—and you're ready.

The Chorus

 ⁵ Who is this I see coming up from the country,
   arm in arm with her lover?

The Man

I found you under the apricot tree,
   and woke you up to love.
Your mother went into labor under that tree,
   and under that very tree she bore you.

The Woman

 ^6-8 Hang my locket around your neck,
   wear my ring on your finger.
Love is invincible facing danger and death.
   Passion laughs at the terrors of hell.
The fire of love stops at nothing—
   it sweeps everything before it.
Flood waters can't drown love,
   torrents of rain can't put it out.
Love can't be bought, love can't be sold—
   it's not to be found in the marketplace.
My brothers used to worry about me:

 ^8-9 "Our little sister has no breasts.
   What shall we do with our little sister
   when men come asking for her?
She's a virgin and vulnerable,
   and we'll protect her.
If they think she's a wall, we'll top it with barbed wire.
   If they think she's a door, we'll barricade it."

 ¹⁰ Dear brothers, I'm a walled-in virgin still,
   but my breasts are full—
And when my lover sees me,
   he knows he'll soon be satisfied.

The Man

 ^11-12 King Solomon may have vast vineyards
   in lush, fertile country,
Where he hires others to work the ground.
   People pay anything to get in on that bounty.
But my vineyard is all mine,
   and I'm keeping it to myself.
You can have your vast vineyards, Solomon,
   you and your greedy guests!

 ¹³ Oh, lady of the gardens,
   my friends are with me listening.
   Let me hear your voice!

The Woman

 ¹⁴ Run to me, dear lover.
   Come like a gazelle.
Leap like a wild stag
   on the spice mountains.

 

2 Corinthians 8:16-9:15 (The Message)

 ^10-20So here's what I think: The best thing you can do right now is to finish what you started last year and not let those good intentions grow stale. Your heart's been in the right place all along. You've got what it takes to finish it up, so go to it. Once the commitment is clear, you do what you can, not what you can't. The heart regulates the hands. This isn't so others can take it easy while you sweat it out. No, you're shoulder to shoulder with them all the way, your surplus matching their deficit, their surplus matching your deficit. In the end you come out even. As it is written,

   Nothing left over to the one with the most,
   Nothing lacking to the one with the least.
I thank God for giving Titus the same devoted concern for you that I have. He was most considerate of how we felt, but his eagerness to go to you and help out with this relief offering is his own idea. We're sending a companion along with him, someone very popular in the churches for his preaching of the Message. But there's far more to him than popularity. He's rock-solid trustworthy. The churches handpicked him to go with us as we travel about doing this work of sharing God's gifts to honor God as well as we can, taking every precaution against scandal.
 ^20-22We don't want anyone suspecting us of taking one penny of this money for ourselves. We're being as careful in our reputation with the public as in our reputation with God. That's why we're sending another trusted friend along. He's proved his dependability many times over, and carries on as energetically as the day he started. He's heard much about you, and liked what he's heard—so much so that he can't wait to get there.
 ^23-24I don't need to say anything further about Titus. We've been close associates in this work of serving you for a long time. The brothers who travel with him are delegates from churches, a real credit to Christ. Show them what you're made of, the love I've been talking up in the churches. Let them see it for themselves!

2 Corinthians 9

 ^1-2If I wrote any more on this relief offering for the poor Christians, I'd be repeating myself. I know you're on board and ready to go. I've been bragging about you all through Macedonia province, telling them, "Achaia province has been ready to go on this since last year." Your enthusiasm by now has spread to most of them.  ^3-5Now I'm sending the brothers to make sure you're ready, as I said you would be, so my bragging won't turn out to be just so much hot air. If some Macedonians and I happened to drop in on you and found you weren't prepared, we'd all be pretty red-faced—you and us—for acting so sure of ourselves. So to make sure there will be no slipup, I've recruited these brothers as an advance team to get you and your promised offering all ready before I get there. I want you to have all the time you need to make this offering in your own way. I don't want anything forced or hurried at the last minute.
 ^6-7Remember: A stingy planter gets a stingy crop; a lavish planter gets a lavish crop. I want each of you to take plenty of time to think it over, and make up your own mind what you will give. That will protect you against sob stories and arm-twisting. God loves it when the giver delights in the giving.
 ^8-11God can pour on the blessings in astonishing ways so that you're ready for anything and everything, more than just ready to do what needs to be done. As one psalmist puts it,

   He throws caution to the winds,
      giving to the needy in reckless abandon.
   His right-living, right-giving ways
      never run out, never wear out.
This most generous God who gives seed to the farmer that becomes bread for your meals is more than extravagant with you. He gives you something you can then give away, which grows into full-formed lives, robust in God, wealthy in every way, so that you can be generous in every way, producing with us great praise to God.
 ^12-15Carrying out this social relief work involves far more than helping meet the bare needs of poor Christians. It also produces abundant and bountiful thanksgivings to God. This relief offering is a prod to live at your very best, showing your gratitude to God by being openly obedient to the plain meaning of the Message of Christ. You show your gratitude through your generous offerings to your needy brothers and sisters, and really toward everyone. Meanwhile, moved by the extravagance of God in your lives, they'll respond by praying for you in passionate intercession for whatever you need. Thank God for this gift, his gift. No language can praise it enough!

Psalm 49-51:19 (The Message)

Psalm 49

A Psalm of the Sons of Korah

 ^1-2 Listen, everyone, listen— earth-dwellers, don't miss this.
   All you haves
      and have-nots,
   All together now: listen.

 ^3-4 I set plainspoken wisdom before you,
      my heart-seasoned understandings of life.
   I fine-tuned my ear to the sayings of the wise,
      I solve life's riddle with the help of a harp.

 ^5-6 So why should I fear in bad times,
      hemmed in by enemy malice,
   Shoved around by bullies,
      demeaned by the arrogant rich?

 ^7-9 Really! There's no such thing as self-rescue,
      pulling yourself up by your bootstraps.
   The cost of rescue is beyond our means,
      and even then it doesn't guarantee
   Life forever, or insurance
      against the Black Hole.

 ^10-11 Anyone can see that the brightest and best die,
      wiped out right along with fools and dunces.
   They leave all their prowess behind,
      move into their new home, The Coffin,
   The cemetery their permanent address.
      And to think they named counties after themselves!

 ¹² We aren't immortal. We don't last long.
      Like our dogs, we age and weaken. And die.

 ^13-15 This is what happens to those who live for the moment,
      who only look out for themselves:
   Death herds them like sheep straight to hell;
      they disappear down the gullet of the grave;
   They waste away to nothing—
      nothing left but a marker in a cemetery.
   But me? God snatches me from the clutch of death,
      he reaches down and grabs me.

 ^16-19 So don't be impressed with those who get rich
      and pile up fame and fortune.
   They can't take it with them;
      fame and fortune all get left behind.
   Just when they think they've arrived
      and folks praise them because they've made good,
   They enter the family burial plot
      where they'll never see sunshine again.

 ²⁰ We aren't immortal. We don't last long.
      Like our dogs, we age and weaken. And die.

Psalm 50

An Asaph Psalm

 ^1-3 The God of gods—it's God!—speaks out, shouts, "Earth!"
      welcomes the sun in the east,
      farewells the disappearing sun in the west.
   From the dazzle of Zion,
      God blazes into view.
   Our God makes his entrance,
      he's not shy in his coming.
   Starbursts of fireworks precede him.

 ^4-5 He summons heaven and earth as a jury,
      he's taking his people to court:
   "Round up my saints who swore
      on the Bible their loyalty to me."

 ⁶ The whole cosmos attests to the fairness of this court,
      that here God is judge.

 ^7-15 "Are you listening, dear people? I'm getting ready to speak;
      Israel, I'm about ready to bring you to trial.
   This is God, your God,
      speaking to you.
   I don't find fault with your acts of worship,
      the frequent burnt sacrifices you offer.
   But why should I want your blue-ribbon bull,
      or more and more goats from your herds?
   Every creature in the forest is mine,
      the wild animals on all the mountains.
   I know every mountain bird by name;
      the scampering field mice are my friends.
   If I get hungry, do you think I'd tell you?
      All creation and its bounty are mine.
   Do you think I feast on venison?
      or drink draughts of goats' blood?
   Spread for me a banquet of praise,
      serve High God a feast of kept promises,
   And call for help when you're in trouble—
      I'll help you, and you'll honor me."

 ^16-21 Next, God calls up the wicked:    "What are you up to, quoting my laws,
      talking like we are good friends?
   You never answer the door when I call;
      you treat my words like garbage.
   If you find a thief, you make him your buddy;
      adulterers are your friends of choice.
   Your mouth drools filth;
      lying is a serious art form with you.
   You stab your own brother in the back,
      rip off your little sister.
   I kept a quiet patience while you did these things;
      you thought I went along with your game.
   I'm calling you on the carpet, now,
      laying your wickedness out in plain sight.

 ^22-23 "Time's up for playing fast and
      loose with me.
   I'm ready to pass sentence,
      and there's no help in sight!
   It's the praising life that honors me.
      As soon as you set your foot on the Way,
   I'll show you my salvation."

A David Psalm, After He Was Confronted by Nathan

    About the Affair with Bathsheba

Psalm 51

 ^1-3Generous in love—God, give grace! Huge in mercy—wipe out my bad record.
   Scrub away my guilt,
      soak out my sins in your laundry.
   I know how bad I've been;
      my sins are staring me down.

 ^4-6 You're the One I've violated, and you've seen
      it all, seen the full extent of my evil.
   You have all the facts before you;
      whatever you decide about me is fair.
   I've been out of step with you for a long time,
      in the wrong since before I was born.
   What you're after is truth from the inside out.
      Enter me, then; conceive a new, true life.

 ^7-15 Soak me in your laundry and I'll come out clean,
      scrub me and I'll have a snow-white life.
   Tune me in to foot-tapping songs,
      set these once-broken bones to dancing.
   Don't look too close for blemishes,
      give me a clean bill of health.
   God, make a fresh start in me,
      shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.
   Don't throw me out with the trash,
      or fail to breathe holiness in me.
   Bring me back from gray exile,
      put a fresh wind in my sails!
   Give me a job teaching rebels your ways
      so the lost can find their way home.
   Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God,
      and I'll sing anthems to your life-giving ways.
   Unbutton my lips, dear God;
      I'll let loose with your praise.

 ^16-17 Going through the motions doesn't please you,
      a flawless performance is nothing to you.
   I learned God-worship
      when my pride was shattered.
   Heart-shattered lives ready for love
      don't for a moment escape God's notice.

 ^18-19 Make Zion the place you delight in,
      repair Jerusalem's broken-down walls.
   Then you'll get real worship from us,
      acts of worship small and large,
   Including all the bulls
      they can heave onto your altar!

 

Proverbs 22:22-25 (The Message)

1

 ^22-23 Don't walk on the poor just because they're poor,
   and don't use your position to crush the weak,
Because God will come to their defense;
   the life you took, he'll take from you and give back to them.

2

 ^24-25 Don't hang out with angry people;
   don't keep company with hotheads.
Bad temper is contagious—
   don't get infected.

 

Verse of the Day

 

“We announce the message about Christ, and we use all our wisdom to warn and teach everyone, so that all of Christ's followers will grow and become mature.” - Colossians 1:28

Today's passage is from the Contemporary English Version.

Thought for the Day

British poet and critic Edith Sitwell wrote, “I have often wished I had time to cultivate modesty… But I am too busy thinking about myself.”