Mirror

When the Pharisees brought her, weary, clothes torn
and stood her before you, she expected your scorn.
But you did not condemn her, no you turned it around
that they might see their lives, and they might be found.

By the mirror of her sin you measured their lives
And they'd have forgiveness if they looked in your eyes.
but their hearts were hard as the stones that they held.
They missed the Messiah and a new heart as well.

So often we judge when the sin's really ours.
As he holds up a mirror and we see our own scars.
And there lies a choice that we all have to make.
We can walk away hardened or cleansed by His grace. (based on John 8:1-11)


I am often amused, often ashamed at how quickly I can judge someone else's sin only to find that it carries an imagine of something in my actions or attitudes. Have you ever noticed that? I wrote these lyrics in 1998 when studying the scripture in John 8 and noted that the woman was caught in adultry alone? Hmmm, this sin to my understanding takes two. Where was the man? Was he part of the crowd or crawling home having been let go by his buddies? And why did my Bible note that some of the earliest manuscripts do not have this portion of scripture? According to the commentaries, the early church had such an issue with adultry that some of the church leaders felt Jesus had been too easy on her. Too easy? Really?

Dragged through the streets of town, half naked at least, by an angry mob of men, accusations of her sin being shouted for the whole of the population to hear, and then stood against a wall being prepared to receive the stones to her body, she probably had no idea that this wasn't really even about her. It was about Him, a trap for Him.

Can you put yourself in her place for just a moment? The worst, most horrid thing you have done, and that secret being shouted through your street so that all could see for themselves the details of your sin. You might even be longing for those stones to relieve your ears of the accusations. Those who have brought you shove you against a wall and there is no place to run or hide; your humilation is full and your tears fall silently before unmoved hearts. And to add to this vile moment, the man sitting next to you is being called on to judge your actions.

Instead of looking at you, He looks at them. He writes something in the sand, perhaps it was the word piylegesh, concubine, or a word relating to the stealing of tithes, whatever He wrote it was most likely something to warn the accusors that they were on thin ice. And as they persist that He judge, He states "Let him who is without sin throw the first stone."

He did not say she had not done wrong nor did he say she was not worthy of death. He said to those accusing, "Are you really any different?" And what followed was the most amazing site. One by one, the older ones drop their stones and walk away. They have lived enough life to know that they were not guiltless. Then the middle age guys begin to see it too, and lastly the young, passionate ones walk away also, leaving the woman standing next to her jugdge without any knowledge of what to do now. She stands there bewildered at how death passed her by and how the words of this country rabbi have saved her life. For the first time perhaps, He looks at her, into her eyes and says "who has condemned you?"

Can you see her? Can you feel this moment of revelation with her? You should. You have had this moment when you invited this judge to be Lord of your life. "No one, sir." Can you see her eyes scanning the ground where the rocks have fallen and the empty pavement that moments before was filled with those screaming for her death. But He silenced them. Can you imagine the sense of freedom and maybe even the love and devotion toward Him? You should. It's happened to you, to me. He has pronounced me-the guilty, innocent, justified, and you also if you know Him, received His forgiveness.

"Then neither do I. Go and sin no more." I think He said those last words for us more than her. I have read those words and remembered the many times He has said this very thing to me. I can imagine that she went and left her life of sin, but then scripture doesn't give us privilege to that information. Perhaps she did, but perhaps, like many of us she slipped back into old ways. And I can't help wonder how many of those accusers went home and changed their ways that day? And what was that written in the dirt? They're all questions in my "someday in heaven" notebook.

And while I may not like to find the mirrors along the way, I have learned to appreciate them. For they show me first that I still need Him, and secondly that He cares enough still to show me, and then to prounounce me not condemned.