March 4: Radical Forgiveness
♫ Music:
Wednesday, March 4
Scripture: John 8:3-11
The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and placing her in the midst they said to him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” This they said to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once more he bent down and wrote on the ground. But when they heard it, they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.”
RADICAL FORGIVENESS
A woman thrown down into the dirt, an angry mob screaming for blood while fingering the stones that they are itching to throw, and one man stands alone to face them. The crowd demands her death to fulfill the law. The woman cowers in the dust and begs for her life. Jesus stands alone as he considers the accusations and judgments being screamed at him.
He had been in the midst of teaching when they dragged her through the streets and threw her down at his feet. Their expressed purpose was to fulfill the demands of the law, but the real reason was to set a trap for Jesus. The hope was to set up a situation that backed him up against a wall; no matter what response he would give—it would be wrong and they would have grounds to demand his arrest and punishment.
Did they really care about the law? Probably on some level the answer would be yes. Did they care about the woman? That would be an unequivocal no. She was no more than a pawn in a very deadly game of chess. They were desperate to silence this man who claimed to be the Messiah, who dared to call them hypocrites, and told his followers to listen to their words, but not to follow their example.
What does Jesus do? He does not try to settle them down and get them to be quiet. He does not logically present a thoughtful response. He simply bends down to the dirt and with one finger he writes—and a remarkable thing happens. The voices begin to fade and then stop altogether as the crowd pushes forward to see what he is writing. Slowly he continues to write until they are utterly silent—and then he stands and he speaks. He tells them that the one who is without sin is welcome to throw the first stone. As they process that truth, they begin to slink away until no one is left but Jesus and the woman.
I directed this scene last semester for the Biola Youth Theatre production of Godspell. Of all the incredible scenes in this musical, it is my favorite for so many reasons. As Jesus bends down to her and touches her shoulder, she jumps, but cannot look at him. Then he lifts her chin and looks into her eyes as he asks her where her accusers have gone.
It is a powerful moment in the play, and as I watched it over and over again throughout the semester it became utterly personal because I saw myself. There I was lying in a heap on the ground and the voices screaming at me were the things that I often hear in my own head. “You are a failure, you are stupid, you will never get it right, God will never forgive or allow you to be of use to His kingdom, you have no talent, no one respects or loves you, you are alone.”
As Jesus lifted her chin and looked at her, helped her rise from the dust, and told her that she was forgiven, he was doing the same for me every single time. As chills ran down my spine at every rehearsal and performance, my head would lift and for a moment I saw myself as He sees me. I realized how much I was loved, how great a price had been paid for my redemption, and how often I trade that truth for the lies of the enemy.
The play has now closed but I am no longer the same. Now, when I am lying in the dust and hear the lies the enemy screams or whispers in my ear, I see that scene. I hear the voice of Jesus. I feel him lifting my chin and I know the truth—that no matter what, He forgives my sins, loves me unconditionally, walks beside me on the days when I am stronger, and carries me when I lack the strength to go on.
PRAYER
Jesus you are the lifter of our heads, the redeemer of our souls, and the one who never gives up on His creation. At times we will land in the dirt. On those days help us not to listen to the lies that we are told but instead raise our eyes to you—and see the real truth that silences the lies—that we are forgiven and loved. There is redemption and hope in allowing you to lift us up, dust us off, and tell us that we can go on.
Lori Shanebeck, Executive Producer, Biola Youth Theatre
Christ and the Adulteress
Jean-Louis Forain
Ottawa, National Gallery of Canada
Oil on Canvas
About the Artist & Art
Jean-Louis Forain (1852–1931) was a French Impressionist painter and watercolorist. As a young man, he studied at the École des Beaux-Arts, and became involved in the Impressionist movement, following in the footsteps of artists such as Edgar Degas, Édouard Manet, and Honoré Daumier. Like his fellow artists, Forain made many paintings of the Parisian entertainment scene: ballets, cafés, and racetracks. He embraced Christianity at the turn of the century. After his conversion, many of his works focused on religious subjects like Christ and the Adulteress.
About the Music
Scribbling in the Sand lyrics
Amidst a mob of madmen
She stood frightened and alone,
As hate filled voices hissed at him
That she should now be stoned.
But in the air around him
Hung a vast and wordless love.
Who knows what luminous lesson
He was in the middle of.
At first he faced the fury
Of their self righteous scorn,
But then he stooped and at once became
The calm eye of the storm.
It was his wordless answer
To their dark and cruel demand,
The lifetime in a moment
As he scribbled in the sand.
It was silence it was music,
It was art, it was absurd,
He stooped and shouted volumes
Without saying a single word.
The same finger
Of the strong hand,
That had written ten commands
For now was simply scribbling in the sand.
Within the space of space and time
He scribbled in the sand.
They came to hear and see as much
As they could understand.
Now bound by cords of kindness
They couldn’t cast a single stone,
And Jesus and the women found that they were all alone.
Could that same finger come
And trace my souls sacred sand,
And make some unexpected space
Where I could understand—
That my own condemnation pierced
And broke that gentle hand,
That scratched the words I’ll never know
Written in the sand.
About the Musician
Michael Card (b. 1957) has been writing, recording, and releasing contemporary Christian music since 1981. He has released 31 albums, written 19 #1 singles for himself and other artists, and has authored or co-authored 24 books. Card says that while we may never know what Jesus wrote in the sand, “The real question is ‘why?’ It was not the content that mattered but why he did it. [It was] unexpected. Irritating. Creative.”
http://www.michaelcard.com/