They were religious and angry. Ready for a fight. They had been watching her, talking amongst themselves. They knew her. Some had probably even been her friends. They’d long since abandoned her, secretly gathering information.
They made it about her. But it wasn’t about her. Not really.
Yet they plotted and planned, collecting their stones in the name of God’s wrath, and waited until she was in her worst possible moment. In the midst of the act, they dragged her out of the bed into public…from one shame to another. They weren’t interested in love covering her sin.
With fear as their tactic, and concern as their excuse, they exposed her. They took her to the place of authority, the temple, and tattled to Jesus, expecting Him to fulfill the Law. Their fingers and thumbs itched with anticipation as they ran them across the stones.
But it wasn’t about her.
They wanted to justify their own sins of pious, selfish arrogance. They wanted to justify their rejection of grace. And, ultimately, they wanted to get rid of Jesus, the perfect grace giver.
They used her, pushing her to the forefront, stating their claims against her. Guilty. They stood back and waited, with pious smirks on their faces. They’d done it this time. They’d found someone whose sin made their own look a little less like shit. But the stench of shit always overpowers the perfume of self-righteousness.
It wasn’t about her. Not really.
He’d been sitting, teaching. What was the subject matter? Good behavior? Doubtful.
The silence hung thick as He leaned over and wrote on the ground with His finger. What did He write? Love, perhaps?
The chatter rose as the accusers demanded an answer from Him. The Law commands us to stone her. What do you say? They wanted her to pay. They expected punishment for sin, so it was easier to point out hers than it was to deal with their own.
And they wanted so badly to blame Him. They wanted a reason to say, I told you so!
But Jesus.
He straightened, looked them in the eyes and said, He who is without sin among you, let him be the first to throw a stone at her. Then he leaned back over and began to write on the ground. Maybe Grace this time?
It was not what they had wanted or expected to hear. Yet not one of them could throw their weighty stones because they all knew one another’s sins. Self-righteousness. Gossip. Arrogance. Pride. Prejudice. Hate. They’d put on a good show of good works and good behavior, but the sins of the heart ran deep.
One by one, they began to leave, the older ones first. Instead of passing along wisdom, the older ones had taught the younger ones about judgment and condemnation. Maybe their sins weighed heavier on their minds. So they left, and the younger ones followed.
It hadn’t been about her.
She was left standing there alone to face Jesus. She had nothing left to lose. They’d dragged her from the only love she’d known. They’d accused her and abandoned her.
But Jesus.
He straightened once again, looking at her, seeing past her guilt and shame. Woman, where are they? Did no one condemn you?
Did she lift her head, or could she stand to look Him in the eyes?
No one, Lord.
Compassion. Grace. Love. Neither do I condemn you; go your way. From now on sin no more.
In the amount of time it took Him to speak those healing words, she realized she’d lost everything in order to gain freedom.
It was about her. And Jesus. Together.
