Below is a creative and existential twist on the story of the woman caught in adultery, with an emphasis on John 8:3b. Enjoy.
As yet the smell of sweat and perfume cloaked the night air in a blanket of seduction. The longing eyes, the silhouette of hair and skin, faintly seen in the candle’s moving glow, possessed an intangible power that not even the dark tendril of her slender yet strong arms could match. In this moment she controlled him—and this he welcomed with open arms. And so they were, open that is, as he lay there supine on the bed. With ribs arched upward toward her waiting hands her fingers climbed his torso as his eyes watched the subtle journey. “What great weakness, what shamelessness, what hopelessness, what grace is this?” he thought to himself. With a touch that could move mountains she placed a single finger on his lips, smiled, and with a look of a thousand unspoken words, she told a story of desires fulfilled. With laughter he craned his face to the sky and relished every one of them.
Outside her window the sound of sandals scratching against the dirt, running to bear the news of a law duly broken, disturbed the lovers’ repose. Perhaps it was the laughter that gave them away, or, perhaps it was the smell. Either way, the moment of warm embrace gave way to the rush of clothing being quickly donned and sandals shuffling against the dirt floor. “Go now” she whispered loudly. “I’ll see you tomorrow” he said. He pecked her on the nose and within seconds disappeared over the hill.
Soon the murmuring of rough voices descended toward the village. The clamor of angry sentiments replaced the ease of previous repose. She saw the gathering storm of grumbling thunder approaching and sought refuge in the darkness behind the little stone hut. She rounded the corner only to step into an angry cloud of false witnesses.
It was not the initial shove to the ground that dispersed the fantasy of unlawful affection; it was the fear of legalistic retribution that placed the reality of her wrong doing squarely before her. Her life before this night was a fantasy; one that was now far out-weighed by reality. There was no sweet innocence here; her accusers would see to that. Unwarranted pleasure had, this time, been rewarded with a mob. “Were my actions so wrong; surely we love each other, is that not enough?” she thought. But it was not enough; the gravity of sin now beset a heavy load of reality upon her soft shoulders.
Both the mob and the young woman were guilty. Both had broken the law and both were the worthy recipients of justice, but only one would forego its judgment this day.
As the morning sun turned the sky blue the accusers conspired to use her as bait to gain a grander prize—Jesus. And so they did, use her as bait that is. They brought her into “the midst” (John 8:3b) and demanded that Jesus pass judgment. Oh the anticipation that must have widened their eyes; not even the bright sunlight could illuminate their lustful gazes.
The swish of a robe broke the silence. Jesus walked into the crowd and placed Himself where he rightfully belonged—in the midst—in the center. There He knelt down and wrote in the dirt. No one knows exactly what He wrote that day, I suppose that is not the point. We just were not meant to know. But Jesus was there in the midst with the young woman and there He dispelled accusations with words unspoken. In the dirt he distinguished fantasy from reality, lust from morality, law from grace. With a finger He brought forth new life from dirt. Just as Adam was distinguished from the dust of the earth by the word of God so was a young woman’s life, in a sense, recreated and re-distinguished that day by the word of God written in the sand.
God is most real to us, not when we look down with furrowed brows deep in contemplation, but when we look up in desperation while He is kneeling low and in our midst. This is where we are most centered, where we cannot help but distinguish between fantasy and reality, lust and morality, and law from grace. Why? Because when Jesus is in our midst all is brought into proper perspective. When Jesus takes the center of our lives He has our full attention; this is the place in our lives when Jesus can most effectively speak His word to us; “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.”
When I was young I worked with my father. He owned (and still does) a sizable piece of land. Much of it is wooded and much of it is pasture; a fine mix. Much of our work was performed at night. Hence, we frequently used flashlights to light our way to our chores (the shooing away of wild dogs, the birthing of calves, and my favorite–the herding of cattle back into the pasture after they had gotten loose). I remember them swaying by our sides, matching our gaits as we walked in and out of the woods and pastures. On nights with a full moon we could switch off the flashlights as we departed the darker woods and entered the moonlit pastures. Often times my father would look up at the moon on such nights and say
