How Did I End Up Here?

How did I end up here?

That question was immediately followed by the conclusion “I am so lost.”  

I was driving up to Kansas City from the small town in Southwest Missouri where we had lived, and it was my first time driving up by myself. Now, my sense of direction is not stellar. I had printed off my directions, since this was the time before everyone had GPS on their phones, and set off, intent on following them precisely.

But, somehow I got lost. I took a wrong turn. That wrong turn led to another wrong turn, and very soon, I was so lost that I couldn’t even find a street sign to help me identify where I had ended up. A stop sign was the only sign I could see. I was completely lost. And I was angry – angry because I was embarrassed that I had gotten this lost and that I had somehow abandoned my directions.

How did I end up here?

How did I end up here? I wonder if that question ran through her mind, as she stood with her head bowed, waiting for her condemnation.

We don’t know a lot about her, this woman we meet in John 8. We know she was Jewish, and therefore acquainted with the Mosaic Law, and we know that she was married.

We don’t know anything about her life story, her childhood, or her marriage. Was she starved for affection as a little girl? Was she a young, naive bride? Or had she seen enough of life to be dissatisfied with it? Was her husband kind? Or was he distant, neglectful, even abusive? We don’t know anything of the circumstances that led her to this place in her life.

We don’t know at what point the brokenness of her heart made her desperate enough to risk her life for the love, the acceptance she tried to find outside of her marriage. At some point, she decided the risk was worth the reward, and so she risked everything. And she lost.

And here we meet her…

And here we meet her, in the temple courts, standing surrounded by angry teachers of the law and Pharisees before Jesus, the famed Rabbi, and the many people who had gathered that morning to listen to his teachings. She stands, likely half-covered in clothing, completely covered in shame, having been blatantly caught in her sin.

In intense moments like these, time often slows down. Minutes seem like hours, as she hears the accusations over her pounding heart. Based on what she hears, she has every reason to believe these could be her last moments. Through hot tears spilling over flushed cheeks, she sees the Rabbi crouched down, writing in the dust with his finger.

To be clear, this whole incident is a tactic and ploy on the part of the teachers of the law and Pharisees to trap Jesus, to put him at odds with either the Roman government on the issue of capital punishment or with the Jewish people in the adherence to the Mosaic Law.  Even the sordid details, like fact that she was caught in the act (we could pause here for a while and ponder how all THAT was arranged), that her partner in sin should’ve been sharing her shame and condemnation (if she was caught in the act, how did he manage to get away), and that the Pharisees immediately present stoning, when that wasn’t the specified method of judgment, given the circumstances. They weren’t really interested in following the law. Their intent was purely on destroying Jesus. 

“He who is without sin …”

The angry questions continue, accusing, demanding, condemning. Jesus stands, looks around at their enraged faces with his penetrating gaze, and replies, “He who is without sin among you, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” He then resumes writing in the dust.

In the deafening silence, she closes her eyes and bows her head, bracing for the blow, the pronouncement of judgment, the condemnation in the form of rocks. Instead, the silence grows, as one by one the Pharisees and teachers of the law turn and walk away, caught in the realization that their own culpability, their own sinfulness prevented any further action against her.

Unsurprisingly, Jesus deftly evades their trap. But, the Pharisees and their shenanigans are not his only focus in this moment. In this moment, he also sees a woman, desperate for love, seeking it in entirely the wrong places, having gone so far in the wrong direction to the point where she is hopelessly lost. A woman in need of a second chance.

“Did no one condemn you?”

She dares to open her eyes and look up. She alone is standing before the Rabbi, who is still writing in the dust.

He looks up, stands, and asks “…where are they? Did no one condemn you?” His eyes meet hers.  

Eyes full of compassion.

Eyes full of grace.

Eyes full of forgiveness.

Eyes full of love.

They are eyes who see her, her true self, who she was before she found herself here, in this situation, in this courtyard. They are the eyes who know who she was created to be. They are the eyes of the Messiah, her Savior.

“No one, Lord,” she softly replies.

“I do not condemn you, either. Go. From now on sin no more.”

In that moment, she acknowledges him as her savior of the moment and as her Savior the Messiah.

I am so lost

Perhaps you’re embarrassed to admit that you’re lost. Maybe you’ve angrily thrown aside your directions. Perhaps you’ve risked everything to mask your wounded heart, to ease the ache of what is broken inside, and it has all crumbled around you.

There’s that moment when you realize you are lost beyond your ability to find your way back. When you are in too deep to be able to get yourself out. Wherever you are in that moment, you are not so lost that He does not see you.

And whatever you use to cover it all up – your accomplishments, your success, even the assertion that deep down, you’re really a good person – the things we use to cover and hide our shame, before Christ, they are scanty and inadequate.

Before him, we are bare.

We cannot hide.

He sees the truth, in all its vileness.

He sees us in our moment of desperation, in our moment of deepest disgrace. And yet, He sees you with eyes full of compassion.

Eyes full of grace.

Eyes full of forgiveness.

Eyes full of love.

Eyes that see your true self, who you were created to be.

They are the eyes of your Savior, who offers you the only true way back – his forgiveness and his grace. The only One who can truly give you a second chance at life, a second chance to go and sin no more.

 

© 2018 Sara R Conley

Quotes taken from John 8 in the New American Standard Bible.