Aquel de ustedes que esté libre de pecado, que tire la primera piedra.1
A young woman was passionately caught in a sculpture of akarthasia, exchanging illicit vows with a stranger in the form of a collage of whispers and smiles. The room was poorly lit, and these two souls thought they had the world all by themselves, right across from where they share a guiltless act lays a lamp on a table desperately keeping its composure not to dance with the visual vibrato that its light is witnessing. And almost a glimpse of a moment before catching their last breathe for the night, the thunderous waves of footsteps from an unruly crowd banishes the dark alley of the narrow, dusty road leading to their small shanty. And before the young woman and her “friend” become aware of it, a group of scribes and Pharisees along with their apprentices where at the shanty’s doorstep. “Get her!” And before she could figure out why all eyes are on her alone, she was savaged.
One of the men who is well-built, standing more than six feet in height grabbed her by her soft petite arm, giving her no time to even pick up a piece of cloth to cover her nakedness. Another held her by her tired feet. Still another snatches the curly hair above her nape.
She was beamed from a dim-lit room to a well-lit lamp post on the public alley. With all the people shouting she did not know who to listen to, she did not know what they are grunting about but she was more than sure these people are angry at her. Why not? The young man she left was not her husband, and so is the man last night and the other night. Right now, the people started counting her faults one by one.
The only thing covering her flesh aside from her hair are her tears, still it was not enough to give her a descent clothing but its all she could do right now. She was thankful for the grainy soil that covered her knees; suddenly she noticed she was bleeding. It might be because she was banged on one of the concrete walls while being carried by the angry men, it does not matter where the bleeding came from, she can’t feel any pain at this moment.
The noise slowly subsides, as one of the Pharisees steps forward, he began to present her case to the Teacher.
“Teacher, they said, This woman has been caught in the very act of adultery. Now Moses in the Law commanded us that such women shall be stoned to death. But what do You say?”2
As if this Pharisee is all knowing and with utter concern about the law, he only asked the question for one reason only; to try to find a charge on which to accuse the Teacher who came back to the temple from the Mount of Olives. With a pulsating grin, the Pharisee was expecting a buzzer beating shot that he made rendering the Teacher utterly powerless. But the Pharisee was wrong, in all his life of knowledge of the scripture, he was never right about this Teacher.
“Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.”3
Silence. Stones dropping down one by one on the ground, just a few inch away from each of the accuser’s feet. Until no one is holding a stone anymore. All the stones missed their target.
“Who is this man?”, the young woman asked herself. “I am very sure I have sinned, but who is this man with such powerful words?, no one ever treated me this way before. No one ever sided with a filthy rag, especially in a community of the elect and religious”
She has so many questions to ask herself, she did not noticed it was only her and the Teacher that is left on the once crowded court. And before she could utter one more challenge on her thoughts, she was totally silenced by the redeeming words that this kind Carpenter is about to say;
“I do not condemn you, go and sin no more”4
She was never this bare in front of anyone before, countless men have seen her inner most skin but this Man standing in front of her saw pass through all that, He saw her heart, He looked at her as a living soul and with the almost eternal hatred that she earned from all the people around her, she now has a sure eternal life ahead of her. She can’t wait to stand up and tell the world about Him. She knew from her heart, this is the last time that she would go in that dim-lit room again. She would stop walking in the dark and will have the Light which is life.5
I, even I, am He who blots out your transgressions for My own sake; And I will not remember your sins.6
Even the seemingly most blessed and clean life has some skeletons under the closet, all of us are filthy rags no one righteous, not a single one. 7
Our failures are not fatal. 8
God’s amazing redeeming power can take tragedies and injustices in our lives and turn them into precious eternal victories. 9
Notes:
1. Juan 8:7 Nueva Versión Internacional
2. John 8:5 NIV
3. John 8:7 NIV
4. John 8:11 NIV
5. John 8:12 NIV
6. Isaiah 43:25 NIV
7. Cedartone
8. Max Lucado, Six Hours One Friday, 1989, Multnomah Publishers, Inc.
9. Tommy Walker, He Knows My Name, 2004, Regal Books, pp 29
