Continued from “My Story | What kind of love is this?”

 

“Then each went to his own home. But Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. At dawn He appeared again in the temple courts; where all the people gathered around Him, and He sat down to teach them. The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman who had been caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, ‘Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery’” – John 7:53; 8:1-4.

Can you imagine how that woman must have felt?

Let me rewind a little.  How do you suppose this woman was feeling before she was caught?  Can you relate to that?   I can.  I felt so badly about my choice to abort and my lifestyle at that time that I hated myself.  I can relate to doing things in secret and trying to keep those I loved and respected from finding out.  Dare I say, all of us can relate to those feelings.  We’ve all been in a situation in which we were sinning and trying to keep it a secret.  Our greatest fear is that people would find us out.

It is a feeling of suffocation.  Your life becomes consumed with your sin and the focus of how to keep it in the dark.  It feels hopeless and desperate.  I would guess that the woman in our story probably felt that way about her life – desperate, no hope.

Now pick it up in John 8.  She is caught in the act and is made to stand before the group.

Here it is–her greatest fear is playing out right before her eyes.  She is standing before the people she sees at the market place each day.  She sees the women in her town who taught her how to make bread and to sew when she was a child.  She sees her neighbors.  She is standing before all of the “good” religious people who never miss an opportunity to be in the temple.

As I said, we’ve all experienced times of knowing that we were messing up big time and trying to keep that sin a secret.  But some of us can also relate to being “caught.”

My question for you today is, have you ever been caught?  Have you ever found yourself in a moment in which it seemed the world stopped and looked your way?  There you stood–guilty and exposed.  Your secret had been found out, and as your fear subsided and shame set in, you saw the devastated, disappointed, tear-filled eyes of your mother, your father, your brother and sisters, your friends, your teachers, your neighbors, the people from your church.  Have you ever been there?

In that surreal moment when your whole world stops and everyone’s heads turn your way–and there is nothing to say.  But in that terrible moment, something surprising happens: for the first time in a very long while, breathing deeply comes naturally.  At least for that moment, the suffocation subsides and we began to breathe again.  There are no more secrets.  Here is the truth, in all of its ugliness; we are all staring right at the truth.

The woman caught in adultery is in such a moment before Jesus.  I imagine her with disheveled clothes.  Her hair is a mess.  Her heart is likely broken.  Now her fear of being caught is gone, for it is now a reality; shame is screaming accusations in her mind.  Her face is certainly downcast.   And there sits Jesus.

“’In the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such a woman. Now what do you say?’  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. 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.’  Again He stooped down and wrote on the ground. At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there.” – John 8:5-9.

Before we discuss what Jesus did, let’s look at what He didn’t do.  He did not rescue her.  He could have whisked her away from all of her accusers, but He did not.  Instead, He would not allow her to hide.  He caused her to face her fear of people and her desire to please men.  He allowed her to stand before the group as they all looked at her truth.

He also did not excuse her behavior.  He could have said, “Anyone who had a childhood such as that of this woman would be confused and lonely.  It is not her fault that she is living this way.”  He didn’t.  Adultery is a sin; there is no denying that.

He also did not condemn her.  After all, she had been caught in the act of adultery.  Stoning was the punishment under Old Testament law.

Instead, Jesus simply bent down and began to write in the dirt.  While no one knows exactly what Christ wrote in the dirt that day,  one thing is certain: He removed the masks from everyone in the crowd that morning, and all her accusers were exposed to a little of their own “truth.”   Scripture tells us they went away one at a time.   Jesus caused them in some way to look at their own sin.

What Jesus did so effectively was to remove everyone except the woman.  The woman and Jesus were left to do business together.  When the mighty finger of God stopped moving, there was no one standing before Him but a broken, hurting, sinful, downcast woman.

“Jesus straightened up and asked her, ’Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?’  ‘No one, sir,’ she said.  ‘Then neither do I condemn you,’ Jesus declared.  ‘Go now and leave your life of sin.’”

Do you know that when you’ve been living in sin, the best place you can be is “caught”??

I don’t know where you might be in your life.  But if you are finally “caught,” I rejoice for you, because here change can begin.  When you are finally alone with your Father, He can do business with you.

All you have to do is say, “I am so sorry.  I am wrong.  Lord, I cannot do this without you.  I need you, Jesus.  Please forgive me.”

He will begin to wipe the dirty tears from your face, and He will say, “Child, go now and leave your life of sin.”

I know you undoubtedly never purposed to be where you are now in your life.  You were deceived and trapped.  But I also know there is only one way out.  You must look at your ugly truth, and that means people around you will have to look at it, too.  But you will be able to breathe again.  All will be in the open–no more fear or shame.

You see, caught is so good, because on the other side of caught is freedom, peace, joy, restored relationships, and hope.

My love,