Job 41 v 21–34

2026-10-29 (Apocalyptic at Its Best) · Job 41 v 10–20 · Job 41 v 1–9

21His breath kindles coals. A flame goes out of his mouth.

22There is strength in his neck. Terror dances before him.

23The flakes of his flesh are joined together. They are firm on him. They can’t be moved.

24His heart is as firm as a stone, yes, firm as the lower millstone.

25When he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid. They retreat before his thrashing.

26If one attacks him with the sword, it can’t prevail; nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.

27He counts iron as straw; and bronze as rotten wood.

28The arrow can’t make him flee. Sling stones are like chaff to him.

29Clubs are counted as stubble. He laughs at the rushing of the javelin.

30His undersides are like sharp potsherds, leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge.

31He makes the deep to boil like a pot. He makes the sea like a pot of ointment.

32He makes a path shine after him. One would think the deep had white hair.

33On earth there is not his equal, that is made without fear.

34He sees everything that is high. He is king over all the sons of pride.”