Canceling our Debts
John 8:1-11
In Max Lucado’s book, He Still Moves Stones he writes of this incident we find in John 8:1-11, and he begins with this illustration I’ve used before. But it is so powerful, it is worth using again.
Rebecca Thompson fell twice from Fremont Canyon Bridge. She died both times. The first fall broke her heart; the second broke her neck. She was only eighteen years of age when she and her 11 year old sister were abducted by a pair of hoodlums near a store in Casper, Wyoming. They drove the girls forty miles southwest to the Fremont Canyon Bridge, a one-lane, steel beamed structure rising 112 feet above the North Platte River. The men brutally beat and raped Rebecca. She somehow convinced them not to do the same to her sister Amy. Both were thrown over the bridge into the narrow gorge. Amy died when she landed on a rock near the river but Rebecca slammed into a ledge and was ricocheted into deeper water. With a hip fractured in five places, she struggled to the shore. To protect her body from the cold, she wedged herself between two rocks and waited until the dawn.
But the dawn never came for Rebecca. Oh, the sun came up and she was found. The physicians treated her wounds, and the courts imprisoned her attackers. Life continued, but the dawn never came. So in September 1992, 19 years later, she returned to the bridge. Against her boyfriend’s pleadings, she drove 70 mph to the North Platte River. With her two year old daughter and boyfriend at her side, she sat on the edge of the Fremont Canyon Bridge and wept. Through her tears she retold the story. The boyfriend didn’t want the child to see her mother cry, so he carried the toddler to the car. That’s when he heard the body hit the water.
And that’s when Rebecca Thompson died her second death.
But why…was it fear? She had testified against the men, pointing them out in the courtroom. One of them taunted her by smirking and sliding his finger across his throat. The day she died the two murderers were up for parole.
Was it guilt? Some think so. Despite Rebecca’s attractive smile and appealing personality, friends say that she struggled with the ugly fact that she survived and her little sister had not.
Was it shame? Everyone she knew and thousands she didn’t had heard the humiliating details of her tragedy. She had been raped. She had been violated. She had been shamed.
Canyons of shame run deep. Gorges of never-ending guilt. Walls ribboned with the greens and grays of death. Unending echoes of screams. Put your hands over your ears. Splash water on your face. Stop looking over your shoulder. Try as you might to outrun yesterday’s tragedies-their tentacles are longer than your hope. They draw you back to the bridge of sorrows to be shamed again and again and again.
Sometimes your shame is private. Pushed over the edge by an abusive spouse. Molested by a perverted parent. Seduced by a compromising superior. No one else knows. But you know. And that’s enough.
Sometimes your shame is public. Branded by a divorce you didn’t want. Contaminated by a disease you never expected. Marked by a handicap you didn’t create. And whether it’s in your imagination or in the reality of others you’re marked. Labeled: a divorcee, an invalid, an orphan, an AIDS patient.
Whether private or public, shame is always painful. Unless you get help, the dawn will never come. You’re not surprised when I say there are Rebecca Thompsons in every city and Fremont Brigdes in every town. And there are many Rebecca Thompsons in the Bible. So many in fact, that it almost seems that the pages of Scripture are stitched together with their stories. But there is one woman whose story embodies them all. A story of failure. A story of abuse. A story of shame. A story of grace.
John 8:1-11
Jesus returned to the Mount of Olives, [2] but early the next morning he was back again at the Temple. A crowd soon gathered, and he sat down and taught them. [3] As he was speaking, the teachers of religious law and Pharisees brought a woman they had caught in the act of adultery. They put her in front of the crowd.
[4] "Teacher," they said to Jesus, "this woman was caught in the very act of adultery. [5] The law of Moses says to stone her. What do you say?"
[6] They were trying to trap him into saying something they could use against him, but Jesus stooped down and wrote in the dust with his finger. [7] They kept demanding an answer, so he stood up again and said, "All right, stone her. But let those who have never sinned throw the first stones!" [8] Then he stooped down again and wrote in the dust.
[9] When the accusers heard this, they slipped away one by one, beginning with the oldest, until only Jesus was left in the middle of the crowd with the woman. [10] Then Jesus stood up again and said to her, "Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?"
[11] "No, Lord," she said.
And Jesus said, "Neither do I. Go and sin no more."
We like this story don’t we? For some we are like the Pharisees…we like to do the finger pointing, the investigating and be on the information highway. I’ve often wondered how much ridicule and gossip had to take place for these Pharisees to devise a scheme to catch this woman in the act. For a few who understand the story we like to see ourselves as the woman because we realize who Jesus forgives in the story. But most want to be apart of the crowd. They want to be neutral. They want to appear as followers of Jesus gathered around him in the early morning hours listening to him teach and who happen to see some excitement on the dawn of this morning.
Let the words sink in as I read them again;
John 8:3-7
The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group [4] and said to Jesus, "Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. [5] In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?" [6] They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.
But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. [7] When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her."
“Teacher this woman was caught in the act of adultery.” The accusation rings off the courtyard walls. The words alone are enough to make you blush. Doors slammed open. Covers jerked back. “In the act.” In the arms. IN the moment. In the embrace. “Caught.” Aha! What have we here? This man is not your husband. Put on some clothes! We know what to do with women like you! And in an instant she is yanked from private passion to public spectacle. Heads poke out of windows as the posse pushes her through the streets. Dogs bark. Neighbors turn. The city sees. Clutching a thin robe around her shoulders, she hides her nakedness. But nothing can hide her shame.
From this second on, she’ll be known as an adulteress. When she goes to the market, women will whisper. When she passes, heads will turn. When her name is mentioned, the people will remember.
The greater travesty, as Lucado writes; goes unnoticed. What the woman did was shameful, but what the Pharisees did is despicable. According to the law, adultery was punishable by death, but only if two people witnessed the act. There had to be two eyewitnesses.
Question: How likely are two people to be eyewitnesses to adultery? What are the chances of two people stumbling upon an early morning flurry of forbidden embraces? Unlikely. But if you do, odds are it’s not a coincidence.
So we wonder, how long did the men peer through the window before they barged in? How long did they lurk behind the curtain before they stepped out?
And what of the man? Adultery requires two participants. What happened to him? Where did the man go? Could it be he slipped out?
The evidence in the text leaves little doubt. It was a trap. She’s been caught. But she’ll soon see that she is not the catch, she’s only the bait to catch a bigger fish.
The Law says stone her, Jesus says list your own sins.
The law of Moses commands that we stone to death every woman who does this. Actually the law says you stone to death anyone who does this. These Pharisees think they have Jesus caught in a trap. They don’t care about the woman, she’s immaterial. Merely a pawn in their game. Her future? It’s unimportant. Her reputation? Who cares if it’s ruined?
Can you see the woman? She stares at the ground. Her lips are tight, her jaw is clenched. Her tears drip hot with hurt. She knows she’s been framed. No need to look up. She’ll find no kindness. She looks at the stones in their hands. Squeezed so tightly that fingertips turn white.
You would expect that Jesus would either preach at her or preach at the Pharisees. He doesn’t. What does Jesus do? If you know, pretend you don’t and feel the surprise.
Jesus writes in the sand. He stoops down and draws in the dirt. The same finger that engraved the commandments on tablets of stone and seared the warning on Belshazzar’s wall now scribbles in the courtyard floor. And as he writes he speaks: “Anyone here who has never sinned can throw the first stone at her.”
Did you get that? The law says stone her…Jesus says, “lets list your sins.” And we say, but wait a minute I’m not an adulterer.
Didn’t you look once with lust? Didn’t you go to the movie that was revealing and find the web page that caught you in it’s web? Didn’t you betray God with your words? Didn’t you deny God with your bitterness? Didn’t you play God when you judged? Didn’t you side with the Pharisees in order to purge this filth from our land?
We are the Pharisees who like the woman need the touch of the Master’s hand.
The law says stone her…but Jesus says…you look at your own sins before you start heaving stones.
Paul wrote;
Romans 2:1
You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge the other, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things.
I appreciate the saying; Somehow we have to make disciples instead of inspirational junkies.
We live in an era where it’s acceptable to be Biblically ignorant but spiritually aware. It’s acceptable to know a handful of passages from the Bible and sound spiritual and be inspired but we haven’t caught the heart of the message of Jesus. Maybe when we care more about people than the law we’ll begin to understand.
The story continues:
John 8:8-9
And again He stooped down, and wrote on the ground. [9] And when they heard it, they began to go out one by one, beginning with the older ones, and He was left alone, and the woman, where she was, in the midst. (NASB)
Again Jesus begins to write on the ground. Would you like to know what he’s writing? I think I know. It’s speculation but I think I know.
He is writing on the ground and the text says; “When they heard it.” Heard what…he’s writing. But I think he’s writing their sins and in their heart they hear their sins condemning themselves. And so they look at one another.
The young look to the old. The old look in their hearts. They are the first to drop their stones. “They began to go one by one, beginning with the older ones first.” And as they turn to leave the young who were cocky with borrowed convictions do the same. The only sound is the thud of rocks and the shuffle of feet.
Let’s be honest. We can be pretty condemning, can’t we? Do you think that we are more like Jesus when we condemn, or when we show grace?
The Law says accuser her, Jesus says use some wisdom.
As you peer into your own heart you’ll see the wisdom of his actions. Let’s face the truth for a minute. There is a large part within each of us that wants Jesus to agree with the Pharisees. Let’s get this trash out of here. But there is a small part that wants him to protect this woman.
Isn’t it true that we borrow our convictions? Who’s going to win the national title? We talk and hear something we agree with and so we’re convicted. Who do you think should be president? We discuss politics and someone says something here and we over hear this broadcast and we build our convictions based on what others say. The younger Pharisees borrowed their posse attitude from the older Pharisees and felt self-righteous.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote;
Jesus Christ lived in the midst of his enemies. At the end all his disciples deserted him. On the cross he was utterly alone, surrounded by evildoers and mockers. For this cause he had come, to bring peace to the enemies of God. So the Christian, too, belongs not in the seclusion of a cloistered life but in the thick of foes. Citation: Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Church, even if you don’t like it you have to face the truth of the facts…Jesus’ best friends on earth were the no names, the nobodies. Jesus hung out with women like this. He befriended them. He was a friend to the tax-collectors and thieves. He was a friend to those who were rejected in society. We like that when we feel rejected, but we detest it when the rejected interfere with our social images.
Jesus said;
Matthew 5:17
"Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.
What is the fulfillment of the law, “Do not commit adultery?” The fulfillment is found in two ideas from Jesus in this text. The fulfillment is his grace given to those who have been shamed and his command…go and sin no more.
The law does say, “accuse her,” but Jesus says, “use some wisdom.” Look to the wisdom of your heart and hurt for people who are being made a spectacle. Ache for those trapped in sin. Burn at those who continually judge others.
I like what Michael Slaughter says; I exist to comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable. That’s hard to understand if you’re just an inspirational junkie.
Listen to the end of the story:
John 8:10-11
Jesus straightened up and asked her, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"
Have you ever thought about the fact that there was someone there without sin? He is the one who just asked the question. But the one who is without sin is not casting stones.
[11] "No one, sir," she said.
"Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus declared. "Go now and leave your life of sin."
Jesus and the woman are left alone. With the jury gone, the courtroom becomes the judge’s chambers, and the woman awaits her verdict. Surely, a sermon is brewing. No doubt, he’s going to demand that she apologize, repent or serve some type of temple community hours. But the judge doesn’t speak. His head is down, perhaps he’s still writing in the sand. He seems surprised when he realizes that she is still there.
“Woman, where are they? Has no one judged you guilty?”
She answers; “No one sire.”
“Neither do I judge you guilty. You may go now, but don’t sin anymore.”
The Law says condemn her, Jesus says “I won’t”.
The One who can condemn doesn’t. The One who has the power to pass judgment, acquits. The One who can point the finger refuses.
In the film The Shawshank Redemption, Ellis Boyd "Red" Redding (Morgan Freeman), tells the story of Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins)—a young, successful banker wrongly convicted of murdering his wife in 1947 and sentenced to two consecutive life terms at Shawshank Prison.
Halfway through the film, an old con, Brooks Hadlin, becomes enraged and threatens to take another inmate’s life—holding a makeshift knife at the inmate’s throat. A few tense moments later, Red and Andy persuade Brooks to lay down his knife. That’s when they discover that Hadlin had just received word that his parole was finally approved. The mere thought of freedom outside the prison walls was enough to send Brooks over the edge.
Later, discussing it in the prison yard, an inmate concludes that Brooks had "bugged out," gone mad. Red quickly disagrees:
Brooks ain’t no bug! He’s just…institutionalized. The man’s been in here 50 years—50 years! This is all he knows. In here, he’s an important man. He’s an educated man. Outside, he’s nothing, just a used up con with arthritis in both hands. Probably couldn’t get a library card if he tried. You know what I’m trying to say?
You believe whatever you want…but I’m telling you, these walls are funny. First, you hate them, then you get used to them. Enough time passes…you get so you depend on them.
That’s institutionalized.
Like prison walls, sin gives fallen people a sense of security. They do not know the freedom Christ brings, and they can’t imagine what life would be like outside their bondage.
Jesus has come to free you from your bondage of shame and your prison of guilt. Maybe if you would stop thinking about the shame so much you would break the patterns that haunt you still. Maybe if you would cease focusing on the guilt you wouldn’t repeat what you’re always thinking about and you would be free.
It’s worth noting that Jesus didn’t condemn bad people. He condemned "stiff" people. We condemn the bad ones and affirm the stiff ones. Whether it was a prostitute or a tax collector or an outcast ... Jesus reached out to them. It was a motley crew of riffraff that followed Him around, and it never embarrassed Him or made Him feel uncomfortable. One of the most radical statements Jesus ever made is found in (Matthew 9): "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: ’I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners" (Matthew 9:12-13).
It’s hard to swallow the kind of grace Jesus offers isn’t it? Oh we’ll take it like a child at Christmas with both hands and tear the wrapping off and open this gift of love. We’ll take it but we sure have a difficult time understanding why Jesus would love some kinds of people. We topple like an amateur tight rope walker, wavering back and forth from the need for his grace and the thought that he could really extend his grace to someone like a woman caught in adultery.
But remember this saying;
A closed mind is a sign of hidden doubt.
If you close your mind to the idea that God’s grace can go to her then it’s a sign that you really doubt his grace can reach to you.
I’m not the smartest man in the world but I know this beyond a shadow of a doubt…His grace can reach us all…now go and sin no more.
Conclusion
The date was June 22, 1996. Jordan, had turned 10 the day before and was having several of his friends over for a party. The highlight of any birthday party (except for those of us who have a higher first digit) is opening the presents. Spencer was 8 and had gone out a few days before and bought a gift for the party. Taylor and Trent were 5 at the time and had not bought presents. We didn’t think it was any big deal, because Jordan didn’t need to get a present from them. We didn’t think they would think anything of it. They didn’t, at least not until the day of the party. They both went through their own things until they could find a treasure to give to their brother. Taylor came up with a Happy Meal toy that was better than most Happy Meal toys, but it was still . . . a Happy Meal toy. We knew it didn’t matter to Jordan, and it sure did not matter to us.
Jordan opened presents that 10 year old at that time loved: a Bulls jersey, a Bulls hat, another Bulls hat (different color!) and, well, you get the picture. Then he drew out Taylor’s name. It was time to open the present that Taylor had brought. When the toy dropped out of the wrapping paper, one of the boys said, “it’s a Happy Meal toy” and all of them started to laugh. Taylor immediately put both hands over his face in embarrassment. But Jordan, showing wisdom beyond his single decade, said, “hey neat,” and started to play with it. The laughter quickly stopped and he continued the relentless destruction of wrapping paper.
Later on I got to witness an amazing thing. After all of the presents were opened, two of the other boys came over and started to play with the Happy Meal toy. It wasn’t that the Happy Meal toy looked any more appealing than when it was opened, but they realized what Jordan had done, and they wanted to follow suit.
What could be more embarrassing than being dragged from an adulteress bed into the public square? But that is exactly what happened when they threw the naked, unnamed adulteress at the feet of the carpenter. I picture her with two hands over her face as her future, or lack thereof, is being decided by those around her. It is one of those stories that is interesting to read, but incredible to feel. Imagine the combination of arrogance and hate of those holding the rocks, gripping them so tightly that their knuckles whitened. You just knew that when one flew, a storm of stones would follow.
How did they catch her? Was her reputation such that they knew what she would be doing if they came at that time? Was she set up to trap Jesus?
The only thing that really mattered to the crowd was that she was a disgusting woman that they needed to erase from the planet. Chances are that most of the crowd wasn’t as interested in trapping Jesus as they were with cleaning up some scum. They could hardly wait to make their town a little cleaner with a few stones. But then something amazing happened. Jesus came up with one mirror for each stone and suddenly sin had a different face. As the blood flow came back to the knuckles, the fingers extended and released the rocks. Every stone fell to the ground.
What turned arrogant hatred into humility? They saw what those 10 year old boys saw. They saw a man reach out in love and remove the hands that covered the face of embarrassment. They saw the love of Jesus transfer embarrassment from the broken to the arrogant. The transfer caused men to drop rocks and boys to play with a toy in which they had no interest.
I must admit that I have never caught Jordan playing with that Happy Meal toy. But he did play with it long enough to let a little brother know that the little brother meant more to him than attitude of his friends.
If you would allow me to borrow from the words of Max Lucado again:
If you have ever wondered how God reacts when you fail, frame these words and hang them on the wall. Read them. Ponder them. Drink from them. Stand below them and let them wash over your soul.
Or better still take him with you to your canyon of shame. Invite Christ to journey with you back to the Fremont Bridge of your world. Let him stand beside you as you retell the events of the darkest nights of your soul.
And then listen. Listen carefully. He’s speaking.
I don’t judge you guilty.
And watch. Watch carefully. He’s writing. He’s leaving a message. Not in the sand, but on a cross.
Not with his hand, but with his blood.
His message has two words; “Not guilty.’
