Jeremiah 48:18-33

“Come down from your high horse, pampered beauty of Dibon. Sit in dog dung. The destroyer of Moab will come against you. He’ll wreck your safe, secure houses. Stand on the roadside, pampered women of Aroer. Interview the refugees who are running away. Ask them, ‘What’s happened? And why?’ Moab will be an embarrassing memory, nothing left of the place. Wail and weep your eyes out! Tell the bad news along the Arnon river. Tell the world that Moab is no more. “My judgment will come to the plateau cities: on Holon, Jahzah, and Mephaath; on Dibon, Nebo, and Beth-diblathaim; on Kiriathaim, Beth-gamul, and Beth-meon; on Kerioth, Bozrah, and all the cities of Moab, far and near. “Moab’s link to power is severed. Moab’s arm is broken.” GOD’s Decree. “Turn Moab into a drunken lush, drunk on the wine of my wrath, a dung-faced drunk, filling the country with vomit—Moab a falling-down drunk, a joke in bad taste. Wasn’t it you, Moab, who made crude jokes over Israel? And when they were caught in bad company, didn’t you cluck and gossip and snicker? “Leave town! Leave! Look for a home in the cliffs, you who grew up in Moab. Try living like a dove who nests high in the river gorge. “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.