A voice says, Cry—prophesy! And I said, What shall I cry? The voice answered, Proclaim: All flesh is as frail as grass, and all that makes it attractive—its kindness, its goodwill, its mercy from the Almighty Creator of our beings, its esteem and comeliness, however good is transitory, like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Master blows upon it; surely ALL the people are like grass. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our Almighty Creator of our beings will stand forever.
O you who bring good tidings to Zion, get up to the high mountain. O you who bring good tidings to Jerusalem, lift up your voice with strength, lift it up, be not afraid; say to the cities of Judah, Behold your Almighty Creator of your beings! Behold, the Master Creator of our beings will come with might, and His arm will rule for Him. Behold, His reward is with Him, and His recompense before Him.
He will feed His flock like a shepherd: He will gather the lambs in His arm, He will carry them in His bosom and will gently lead those that have their young.
Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, marked off the heavens with a nine-inch span, enclosed the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales and the hills in a balance?
Who has directed the Spirit of the Master, or as His counselor has taught Him? With whom did He take counsel, that instruction might be given Him?
Who taught Him the path of justice and taught Him knowledge and showed Him the way of understanding?
Behold, the nations are like a drop from a bucket and are counted as small dust on the scales; behold, He takes up the isles like a very little thing. And all Lebanon’s [forests] cannot supply sufficient fuel, nor all its wild beasts furnish victims enough to burn sacrifices worthy of the Master. All the nations are as nothing before Him; they are regarded by Him as less than nothing and emptiness (waste, futility, and worthlessness). To whom then will you liken the Almighty Creator of our beings? Or with what likeness will you compare Him?
The graven image! A workman casts it, and a goldsmith overlays it with gold and casts silver chains for it. He who is so impoverished that he has no offering or oblation or rich gift to give to his deity is constrained to make a wooden offering, an idol; so he chooses a tree that will not rot; he seeks out a skillful craftsman to carve and set up an image that will not totter or deteriorate—you worshipers of idols, you are without excuse.