The morning was cold. And I clutched my shawl close to my body both for warmth and to cover my shame. I was wrenched forward and flung to the ground and jerked back up to my feet. The stares around me left me feeling naked. The humiliation of what I had done echoed around me as the crowd yelled for punishment.
I lowered my eyes, unable to look up into the faces of those that knew of my sin. A man spoke up, judgement in his voice as he called for an answer. More of the pharisees spoke up, citing the Law and certain of the same thing I was certain of. My sin required punishment. And here on the temple floor, I was sure of what would happen. My body recoiled with my muscles tense. I heard my sin being announced. If the people did not know before. They now knew my crime. I knew the choices I had made. Crying, my body released a sob.
I am an adultress, a sinner. I cheated on my husband. I was even caught in the act. I cannot hide my shame, my mistakes. And I deserved the stones that would strike my body.
Some people in the crowd gasped when they heard the accusations. the accusations carried truth. These people, not only the scribes and pharisees, were familiar faces. And they now seemed distant. Separated by the sin I had committed. They were better than I.
The cries grew louder when a man crouched down near me in the dirt. I glanced his way and I saw no malice. no ill intent. and even more strangely, I saw compassion. He drew something in the dirt with his finger and stood.
He spoke calmly, his voice unwavering and steadfast. His words, I will never forget. They seemed so strange.
“Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her. “
My breath caught. What could he mean?
He lowered to the dirt again and once again began to write in the dirt.
Who is this man? Who is the man who’s words stirred among the crowd? His words had caught my breath and they seemed to strike the crowd as well. Murmurs rushed around me. My heart beating fast, these murmurs were just as loud to me as the yelling had been only moments before.
The murmurs began to fade and I heard the shuffling of feet. I continued to look down, my breath mixing with tears and fears as I waited for my judgement.
Soon silence seemed to scream at me. With slow movement, I lifted my eyes to see this strange man stand up near me.
He stood alone.
“Woman”, he said. His voice still the constant calm. “Where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
My voice caught. “No one, Lord.”
This man spoke and his words worked their way into my inmost being, as if speaking to not just my forgotten judgement, but to the deepest need in my soul.
“Neither do I condemn you, go and from now on sin no more. “
In a simple moment, I was given freedom. My tears fell freely, no longer from fear, but from the overwhelming grace this man was displaying. His eyes shown with love, as if my acts and sins were washed away by his mercy.
This man, this teacher spoke redemption into my life. No longer marred by my choices. I saw my reflection in the kindness of his eyes. Holy, blameless, enough. Forgiven, free. Loved.
“You are not simply a sinner. You are a deeply loved sinner and there is all difference in the world between the two.” — David Benner
This is something I read to my squad at debrief as we talked about identity. God downloaded it to me as I prepped for the talk with my co-leader. John 8 was all I kept hearing in my head. John 8. Everyone’s story is found in John 8.
So often we adopt titles from the things spoken over us. They aren’t always good, nor are they always true. And the beautiful thing is that God speaks truth over us every day – an identity based on His sacrifice, freed by love and with grace pardoning any idea that we aren’t enough, or we are too something. Our true identity, like the woman caught in adultery, is out of His kindness.
Don’t settle for thinking you’re stuck in the dirt. Don’t live waiting for the rocks to hit you. And don’t throw the rocks at yourself.
Just like the adulteress, you’ve made mistakes. But He died so that your identity is one of redemption.
Rise up out of the dirt.
