by Scott Bayles
Following Jesus part 2
Following Jesus to Court
Victoria Ruvolo was on her way home late one November evening when she crossed paths with a car-full of punks on a joyride in a gray Nissan. She probably never saw it coming. One of the juvenile delinquents—who had already broken into a car, stolen a credit card and used it to buy a bag full of groceries—sticks his head out the window of their car and flings a twenty pound frozen turkey toward Victoria Ruvolo’s on-coming vehicle, sending it crashing through the windshield and crushing every bone in Victoria’s face.
Victoria would spend Thanksgiving and Christmas in Stony Brook University Hospital as her face is surgically pieced back together. Nine months later, Victoria would finally confront her attacker, Ryan Cushing…in a courtroom. The young man would plead guilty, but would only be sentenced to a meager six months in prison and five years probation. The reason? Victoria begged the courts for leniency. After the trial was over Victoria approached the young man, embraced him as he wept, and whispered softly, “I forgive you.”
We aren’t accustomed to seeing such mercy and grace in a courtroom. We’re more familiar with the scenes of shouting, swearing, and slandering we see on The People’s Court, Judge Judy, or Divorce Court, where neighbors, co-workers, friends and family all accuse each other and publicly malign one another on national television. Words like mercy and grace are foreign to most courtroom settings.
Yet, the experience of Victoria Ruvolo is reminiscent of an event in the life of Christ when Jesus was asked to take the bench and pass judgment on an nameless sinner. This is how the Bible describes it:
Early the next morning [Jesus] returned to the temple courtyard. All the people went to him, so he sat down and began to teach them. The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught committing adultery. They made her stand in front of everyone and asked Jesus, “Teacher, we caught this woman in the act of adultery. In his teachings, Moses ordered us to stone women like this to death. What do you say?” (John 8:2-5 GW)
The teachers of the Law had promoted themselves to keepers of the Law, the Pharisees declared themselves prosecutors, and together they presented their case to Jesus, whom they were hoping would nominate himself Judge.
I. The Accusation:
This anonymous woman was dragged naked into the Temple court. As was the case with Ryan Cushing, there was little question of her guilt. The Bible says they “caught this woman in the act of adultery” (vs. 4). She was in the throws of passion with a man who was not her husband when the authorities stormed into her bedroom. One or both of them were already married to someone else. The Bible doesn’t call this an “open marriage” or an “extra-marital affair.” The Bible calls it what it is—adultery.
No matter what their ulterior motives were, the Pharisees were right about one thing. The Law said, “If a man is found sleeping with another man’s wife, both the man who slept with her and the woman must die” (Deut. 22:22 NIV). Even though her partner is suspiciously missing, that would not change the fact of her guilt—nor her sentence. She was guilty and the Pharisees had made it their job to see to her public disgrace, shame, and death.
Perhaps she was sorry for her sin. Maybe she was ashamed. She might have even been set up for that matter—after all the Pharisees were “using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing” Jesus (vs. 6 NIV). But none of that mattered to them. As in modern courtrooms, words like mercy and grace were foreign to them.
So there she stood—naked and ashamed for all to see.
Can you sympathize with the woman caught in adultery? I can. I got married when I was just nineteen years old. I married against the advise of close friends, family, pastors, and counselors—and, believe it or not, against my own better judgment. Our relationship was unstable before we were even engaged. I knew that this was not the person God had prepared for me, but I didn’t care. I, perhaps like this woman, was going to live my own life and make my own decisions.
When a Christ-follower stops following Christ, like I did, we make ourselves vulnerable to Satan. We become like a crippled lamb limping far behind the rest of the flock with the Devil prowling around like a roaring lion. I began catering to my sinful nature (as did my wife at the time) and early into my ministry I was going through a divorce almost as ugly as the marriage itself had been. Over the next few months I would meet several times with the shepherds of my congregation, confessing my failings, sins, and shame and trying to think of a way to restore what seemed hopelessly lost.
When the divorce papers were delivered, however, and it became clear that there was no hope of reconciliation, I was told—in no uncertain terms—to leave the church. The sins which I privately confessed to my shepherds in hopes of receiving their help and guidance, were then made very public. They withdrew their fellowship from me and urged other churches to do the same.
I wasn’t caught in the act of adultery, but I did have eyes full of adultery. I wasn’t dragged before the church naked and ashamed, but I definitely felt naked as the sins I had confessed were broadcast for all to hear. And no one raised rocks with which to stone me, but they turned their backs and disowned me. I was guilty and words like mercy and grace are sometimes foreign—even in the church.
Have you been in a similar situation? Have you felt the stinging shame of public disgrace (whether deserved or undeserved)? Have you felt the embarrassment that comes from those not seeking to help but to hurt? Have you cringed in trepidation as their hands rise in condemnation? Then perhaps you can imagine in small part how this woman caught committing adultery must have felt.
The case had been made. The prosecution rested. Her guilt was undeniable. All that was left was the Judge’s verdict. But here is where the trial would take an unexpected turn.
II. The Acquittal
Jesus calmly stood up. Stepping down from the judge’s bench he was placed upon, he assumes the role of defense attorney and makes his appeal, “Anyone here who has never sinned can throw the first stone at her” (vs. 7 NCV). Then once again Jesus knelt down and began scribbling in the sand. I imagine the men began looking to one another and, apparently, within themselves. A quiet hush must have fallen over the prosecution. They dropped their stones and began to walk away. The older men left first—probably because they were more willing to admit their own sins—then the younger men followed. Can you imagine her amazement? Her relief?
Then Jesus, the man who just saved her life, asked her, “Woman, were are they? Has no one judged you guilty?” (vs. 10).
She probably answered with tears in her eyes, “No one, sir” (vs. 11).
And then came the sweetest words of all, “I also don’t judge you guilty” Jesus whispered, “You may go now, but don’t sin anymore” (vs. 11).
Do you need to hear those words? Can you hear your Savior saying them to you? He has, you know. The Bible says, “There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1 NKJV). Another translation declares, “So now, those who are in Christ Jesus are not judged guilty.” What amazing mercy and forgiveness! What amazing grace! Even though we are caught in our sins—even though we lie, cheat, steal, or whatever else—God has declared us “not guilty”!
Even though I was denied mercy from my peers and church leaders, Jesus reached down and whispered softly, “I forgive you.” He placed me in position with a world-impacting ministry. He brought a godly woman into my life to be my bride. And he placed us together in a new church family who are familiar with words like mercy and grace. All as if to say, “I don’t judge you guilty. You may go now, but don’t sin anymore.”
Do you think an encounter with such astounding love would change this woman’s life? It changed mine. Has it changed yours? If you’ve ever felt embarrassed, ashamed, or guilty because of your mistakes—if you’ve ever wanted to crawl under a rock or cry yourself to sleep—then Jesus’ words to the woman caught in adultery are his words to you, “I don’t judge you guilty. You may go now, but don’t sin anymore.
Forgiveness doesn’t change our guilt, but it changes the judgment. Even though we are guilty, we are not judged guilty. Victoria Ruvolo, moved my grace, was able plead for a lesser sentence for the young man who scared her face. Jesus, also moved by grace, is able to forgive completely those who scared his hands and feet. Following Jesus to court means following near enough to be covered in the dust of his mercy and grace.
