Freed By Forgiveness - Grace Cappella

Based on John 8:2-11

               It had only been once.  But they had been caught.  Shalom had never meant to go so far, but Jaran pushed for it; and, unloved and spurned by the rest of the world, she caved to his wishes.  Aching for love, she let his arms encircle her and gave her all.  It felt so right—then so terribly wrong.  When her older brother Jotham returned a day earlier than expected from purchasing cattle for sacrifices, he had caught them in the very act.  Jaran, like the coward she now found him to be, managed to escape before Jotham could see his face.  Leaving her to face the elders alone.

                Weeping and pleading availed nothing.  Within ten minutes of Jotham’s arrival the entire neighborhood knew what had taken place.  Shalom was struck with the realization that Jotham was all too ready to rid himself of his plain younger sister whom no one would marry.  Not that she hadn’t seen it before; Jotham and his intended bride treated her no better than a servant.  She had just never come face-to-face with how much he despised her.  Adultery served as good an excuse as any to dispose of her.  He dragged her out the door, yelling angrily how unfortunate he was to have a whore for a sister.

                Those not attending synagogue were only too happy to participate in any diversion.  Rough hands propelled her, barely covered, through the neighborhood with Jotham proclaiming her sin at the top of his lungs.  Completely disgusted and horrified at the blot cast on him and the family, he harbored no qualms about mocking her.  Shalom cowered under the insults and jeers, tears streaming down her face.  If only Jaran had not deserted her, it might have been bearable.  The one person she’d thought she could trust… Shalom suddenly realized the crowd was heading for the temple.  O Lord, no!  How much more must I bear?  Then she blushed crimson.  How dare she, an adulteress, petition the LORD God, pure and holy above all else?  She was degraded, defiled… even God had surely turned His face from her.

                Heedless of the Rabbi speaking to the people, Jotham and two others threw her to the ground in the midst of the assembly.  She lay in the dirt, breathing hard.  Curious looks came from all directions: the local innkeeper, a Levite who often passed their house, a girl named Sarah who had been the only person who might have liked her in the past.  Shalom focused on Sarah.  Surely there must be one compassionate face in the bloodthirsty crowd.  She caught Sarah’s eye, but the girl grimaced in anger and revulsion and refused to look at her.  Azariah, a Pharisee, raised his hands for quiet, and the congregation fell silent.  All eyes went to the Teacher, to see what He would do.

                Azariah spoke up.  “Teacher, this woman,” he spat contemptuously, “this woman was caught in adultery, in the very act.”  He paused, enjoying the gasps and wide-eyed stares.  “Now Moses, in the Law, commanded us that such should be stoned.  But what do You say?”

                Eyes that had been fixed on Azariah now shifted their gaze to the Teacher.  Azariah was in his element, grinning, expectant.  Shalom hid her face in both hands, bracing herself for His words.  If anyone had a right to condemn her, it was He.  She dreaded his accusation yet knew she richly deserved it. 

                But the accusation never came.  Instead, the Teacher shocked everyone by stooping to write on the ground with His finger, as if He hadn’t heard!  Azariah choked in astonishment, face brick red then bordering on purple.  Slowly and deliberately he repeated himself, growing more annoyed with each passing moment.  Finally the Teacher straightened.  His eyes scrutinized the crowd, and each in turn looked away.  Even Azariah’s eyes fell before the searching ones of the Teacher.  Shalom waited, not daring to peer between her fingers at them. 

                “He who is without sin among you, let him throw a stone at her first.”

                There was dead silence.  The Teacher bent down and resumed writing on the ground.  No one moved a muscle.  Abruptly Jotham, looking at no one, stalked out.  Another man, one of those who had thrown her to the ground, followed.  One by one, the entire multitude followed suit, including Azariah.  In a matter of minutes only Shalom and the Teacher were left.  Feeling more ashamed than ever, Shalom cringed before Him.  The Teacher raised Himself up and looked around.  “Woman, where are these accusers of yours?  Has no one condemned you?”

                The gentleness in His tone brought on another flood of tears.  “N-no one, Lord,” Shalom barely managed to reply.  Anguished sobs racked her frame.  Heartbroken, she couldn’t bring herself to meet His eyes. 

                “Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more.”  Trembling, Shalom forced herself to glance up.  The Teacher extended His hand.  Clutching her garment about her, she grasped it and the hope He held out and stood before Him.  Love such as she had never felt before, not even in Jaran’s arms, radiated from this Man.  His smile lit up the room, and she read redemption in His eyes.  He released her hand.  She stared at it, joy welling in her heart.  Then the Teacher turned and walked out, like all the others had done.  Watching Him go, Shalom felt strangely light and free.  She stood alone, knowing she had encountered her Messiah and been forgiven.  Nothing else mattered.