It's funny how no matter how hard we may fight Redemption and Truth, they always seek us out. No matter how many mistakes we make, no matter how deep the sin runs, God is there, wiping away the muck and mire. He digs and digs through all the mud and grossness to get to our hearts. Because He doesn't give us up willingly.
If you think about it, when you write something or draw something or take a picture of something... Any form of art that is close to your heart... And someone tries to take it from you with the intent of misuse, you'll fight fists flailing to protect that which is closest to your heart. Now imagine that your creation had life, had a soul, had purpose. How much more would you fight for it? How much more would you go to the ends of the earth to bring it love and ensure its safety? How much more would you pay any price to protect it?
It should be a comfort to know that we can always come crawling back to Redemption. It should be... But there is a rare, or for many, a common occasion where we'd rather roll in our own filth than crawl back. Why? Because in the end, it's easier, isn't it? It's easier to accept defeat, to never try to get up, to never have to look into the eyes of Perfection and say, "I'm so sorry." It's easier to know that you are beyond saving, that you are a wretch. It's easier to believe all these things than to lay at the feet that walked among the stars and believe not only are you capable of saving, but worth saving. To someone, you are worthy.
I've had the experience of telling someone you love almost more than life itself you've betrayed them. It's the most horrifying, heart wrenching, deadly thing I've ever had to do. And it occurred to me as I was practically on my knees begging forgiveness... Mary Magdeline. Jesus didn't stand above her and condemn. He didn't point the finger and tell her, "You have made a mistake and now you must pay." He stands after doodling in the dust and says, almost shocked, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?" And you almost have to chuckle. It's not like He didn't know. But He was making a point.
Of course, there's no proof that this character in this passage is Mary Magdeline, but for the sake of identity, we'll allow her this name. Interestingly enough, John records Jesus drawing in the dust, but really doesn't document detailed emotions of the characters in this story. When Mary says, "No one, sir," I doubt she was calm, cool, and collected. She must have been weeping. Her "sir" was probably more like "Master" or "Your Majesty".
Imagine you were caught doing the worst thing you possibly could. Imagine you were in the arms of a man or woman that was not only not yours, but was "committed" to another and your elders walked in on you. Because John 8:3 says that the woman was "caught in adultery". She was in the middle of it and they caught her. The shame, the horror, the humiliation that accompany all these events must be unbearable. Surely, a man without flaw, a religious leader would rightfully condemn her.
Imagine lying in the dust, hearing the pharisees shouting at a man whom you really didn't know, condemning you. Saying horrible things, true things, but words that drove daggers into your flesh. And this man stoops down and begins drawing in the very dust that has made its way into your throat and your eyes and your nose. Although you are ashamed to the point of utter despair, you cry. Your heart breaks because you know although it's all horrible, it's all deserved. You deserve to die.
And amidst all the chaos, all the horror, all the pain and insults, a voice like honey breaks through the night. "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." What? Confusion. Could it be that easy? No, of course not. You've heard of this man. He is without sin. So this is it, then. You are going to die. Deservedly so, and by one that can righteously. You brace yourself, awaiting the deadly blow...
Nothing.
...nothing...?
"Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"
Weeping, you see that all your accusers have gone. That you are, indeed, alone. You dare not make eye contact with this man. So many words come to mind, so many things you want to say. You want to scream and tell him it was a mistake, that you want to start over, but it's just impossible. Can't he see that? Can't he see that this is all impossible? There's no possible way to begin anew. Not in this world. Not now. From cracked lips, you whisper only a reply to his question. "No one, sir..." Waiting... waiting...
"Then neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin."
All the air rushes out of your lungs and the tears begin afresh. How could this be? A second chance? But you know this isn't your second chance. It's your millionth. You've failed time and time again, but no one was ever there to hold you accountable, to bring justice. Until today. And the one time that you were finally caught, that you were finally ready to let all the hate and lust take you to death, you're told you have a second chance. Because that's really what it is, isn't it? You were never given a second chance. No one told you you had a way out. No one told you there was more life to live beyond this. No one told you there was healing, that it was possible to get out.
No one ever told you there was FREEDOM.
So this is where you start ANEW. This is when your new beginning BEGINS. For she who was dead is now ALIVE. And she's been given a new life, because there is Someone who has faith that it will not be a life wasted. Not only are you given the second chance that you've longed for for far too long, but there is Someone in this lonely universe that believes you can live. And not live half, not live in apathy, not live in complacency. He believes that your life is one worth giving, worth living, but worth dying for.
You are worthy.
You are lovely.
You are precious.
You are REDEEMED.
Go now, daughter of the Light. Go and sin no more. Fly.
.BE FREE.
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