Redemption Drama

The woman was not a penitent. She was terrified and certain she was going to die a gruesome death. She most likely pleaded for her life and promised not to do “it” again. But repentant? Not hardly.

She is dragged, kicking and fighting and possibly nude, to the feet of the rabbi.

The men are cocky and confident. If they didn’t have to drag a naked, spitting, screaming woman they would be swaggering or doing a George Jefferson-style strut. “This deal is airtight,” they thought. “He’ll trip himself up this time and we’ll have him right where we want him…”

The woman is being dragged to what she knows is a death sentence. Wide-eyed, wild-eyed, stomach-churning fear wraps itself around her like her missing clothes.

The men rush to vindication and victory. Soon this troublemaker will be out of their hair and the status quo will be restored. Glee is the order of the moment.

They are all stopped cold by the Master.

“Rabbi, we caught her red handed… in “the act”, if you know what we mean… Moses said we could stone women like her. What do you say?”

The Master says…nothing. Instead, he stoops down and begins to write in the dirt. We are not told what he writes. There is much speculation – the names and/or sins of the men, the law they were referring to. Whatever he writes, it has no affect on the crowd. They keep asking, “What do you say? C’mon, tell us what you think we should do?”

The Master stands up and brushes the dirt from his hands. “The sinless one among you can throw the first rock.” Not quite what they expected. The mental calculations begin, as the Master stoops again to write in the sand.

“I can’t throw a rock – that guy over there knows that I…”

The rocks are dropped like they’re hot, and one by one, the men suddenly remember urgent tasks, appointments, and important responsibilities that require them to be anywhere but here.

The Master and the woman are alone. She’s not sure what to expect, doesn’t know she’s in the presence of the only man ever qualified to throw a stone at her. But instead of a rock, he throws her a lifeline. “Where are your accusers?” the Master inquires. “They’re gone,” she replies. “I’m not going to punish you," the Master declares, "Go, and pursue a life free from sin.”

The blunt force grace of the Master’s statement hits me hard. I have lived two roles in this little drama.

I have been brash and self-righteous, confident that God was on my side in the fight and was in fact holding my coat. I have put on stolen judge’s robes, ignoring the ill-fit as I pronounced certain judgment on those who deserved it.

The Master’s words have stung me. “If you’re sinless, go ahead, pass sentence and carry out the punishment.”

I have been naked and terrified, exposed in my rank iniquity for all to see. I have been convinced that this was the last straw, all the Master could stand from me. I have been sure that the stones were about to fly.

The Master’s words have soothed me, saved me. “No condemnation. Go, and don’t sin anymore.”

We need both the words that expose our judgmental folly and the words that heal and forgive. It is the truth of our sordid condition and the liberating reality of our salvation that gives us hope.

Back To School - For The Very First Time

Max Lucado once said he learned more about God by being a father than by reading any theology book. More than once these past 16 years, I've pondered that wisdom and generally concurred.

Something utterly new occurred in our household today - I drove two of our boys up to a public schoolhouse door, wished them well and waved goodbye. We have homeschooled for 11 years and today was the first day any of our children stepped a foot in a public school.

We've wrestled with this decision for well over a year. Our 14 year old freshman is a pretty good athlete, and wants to get involved in high school sports. Our 11 year old sixth grader is a "social butterfly" who had a couple dozen of his closest friends urging him to give their school a try.

It came down to a couple of "deciders" - Their needs, other than academics, for involvement and participation in things that were getting harder to do in a homeschool setting; and the fact that we are in a small town with a smaller school and have gotten to know a number of the staff. The timing just seemed right.

I admit, Vic and I were probably more nervous than they were about the whole thing. For the first time, they are on their own for a significant portion of the day. But in a sense, they are not alone. They will draw from a well filled with good things we have poured into them through the years. Chances are - and I may just be wishful thinking here - flickering across their minds at critical moments will be the thought, "What would Mom and Dad want me to do/say/be in this situation?" I believe - rather I desperately hope - that our boys are secure. They know that good or bad, pass or fail, win or lose, Mom and Dad will always love them and desire the best for them.

We rest secure in the knowledge that The Father, and I mean THE Father, has made His deposit in us - His Holy Spirit, His Living Word, His promise of guidance, the "way of escape" in times of temptation... And above all, His promise that nothing can ever separate us from His love. The imperfections of my love for my sons impresses me all the more with the perfect love of the Father.