Jeremiah 20 in plain modern English. New Ground English Translation.

Now Pashhur son of Immer, the priest who served as chief officer in the house of Yahweh, heard Jeremiah prophesying these things.

Pashhur had Jeremiah the prophet beaten and then locked in the stocks at the Upper Benjamin Gate of the house of Yahweh.

The next morning, when Pashhur released Jeremiah from the stocks, Jeremiah said to him, "Yahweh doesn't call you Pashhur anymore. He calls you Magor-Missabib — Terror on Every Side."

Because this is what Yahweh says: 'I'm about to make you a terror to yourself and to everyone around you. You'll watch with your own eyes as your friends fall to the swords of their enemies. I will hand all of Judah over to the king of Babylon, and he will carry them off to Babylon or cut them down with the sword.'

'I will hand over all the wealth of this city — everything it has worked for, all its valuables, all the treasures of the kings of Judah — I will give it all to their enemies, who will loot it, seize it, and haul it off to Babylon.'

'And you, Pashhur, and everyone living in your house — you will all go into captivity. You will go to Babylon, and there you will die, and there you will be buried — you and all your friends you prophesied lies to.'

You drew me in, Yahweh, and I let myself be drawn. You overpowered me, and you won. I've become a joke — all day, every day. Everyone mocks me.

Every time I open my mouth, I end up crying out, announcing violence and destruction. Yahweh's message has brought me nothing but insults and mockery, all day long.

So I told myself, "I won't think about him anymore. I won't speak in his name again." But then it was like fire locked up in my bones, burning inside my chest. I tried to hold it in, but I couldn't.

I hear so many people whispering — "Terror on Every Side! Report him! Let's report him!" Even my closest friends are watching for me to stumble. "Maybe he'll slip up," they say, "and then we'll get him. We'll have our revenge."

But Yahweh stands with me like a fearsome warrior. So the ones chasing me will stumble — they won't win. They'll be completely humiliated because they failed, a disgrace that will never be forgotten.

Yahweh who commands armies, you who test the just and see deep into the heart and mind — let me see you take your justice out on them, because I've handed my case over to you.

Sing to Yahweh! Give Yahweh praise! Because he rescues the life of the poor from the grip of those who do evil.

Cursed be the day I was born. The day my mother gave birth to me — let it never be remembered with joy.

Cursed be the man who brought the news to my father, saying, "A son has been born to you!" — making him so happy.

Let that man be like the cities Yahweh overthrew without mercy. Let him hear screaming in the morning and a war cry at noon.

Because he didn't kill me before I was born, so my mother would have been my grave and her womb would have been pregnant forever.

Why did I ever come out of the womb — just to see trouble and grief, just to end my days in shame?