Eyes unwavering from the ground. She was in awe of the words he was carving into the dusty ground. And there was sudden peace, as her heart, fearful and raging, slowed to a normal pace.
She watched what he wrote, used to those who drew lines, this man was writing words. He was different than the disappearing crowd before them. And then they were gone, the whispers were gone, the accusations were gone, finally.
As she lifts her eyes to this man,
there is something she has never seen before.
The embodiment of gentleness,
the kindness of love.
And for the first time in her life, there was no judgment in the eyes before her, there was no raging desire for the body she had to offer, there was no disgust at her lifestyle or condemnation for her actions.
There was only grace.
And then he spoke, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"
She looked around, lightness in her chest. "No one, Lord."
And Jesus said, "Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more."
This man who had every right to condemn her, every right to throw the first stone, every right to carve her sins in the ground and throw her into an eternity of condemnation, set her free and forgave her. He knew of her sins, the adultery, the lying, the deceiving. He knew.
But when he looked in her eyes, he did not see her sin. He saw her heart. When she looked in his eyes, she did not see condemnation. She saw his heart, gentle, kind and loving.
How have we been like this woman, eyes frozen on the ground, afraid to lift our eyes to the Savior, terrified that in His eyes we will see a condemnation for all that we have done wrong?
How have we been like the Pharisees, first in line to throw our stones, angry and judgmental at lifestyles we do not understand, pain hidden by sin, demanding that Jesus give us permission to throw our stones?
Guilty of both, fearful of the stones and ready to throw them, I look into Jesus' eyes and only see gentleness. I hear his voice, as clearly as this woman did, and it is just as kind.
In the past few years of my life, I have ventured on this journey of examining my stones, examining my own sin and dropping them. Jesus said, "Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her." This line has been so convicting. How can we throw our stones when we also have sinned?
When all of the judgment falls away, what is left is me and Jesus. His gentleness and kindness is an invitation to be safe and to love well. Others actions do not matter as much to me as the call to love them, to be a safe space for them, to be an invitation to meet Jesus.
