And once again he bent down and wrote on the ground.
- John 8:8 NRSV -

As she heard the tumult outside of her door, Muriel squeezed the rag she'd been using to clean her dishes. She knew what was about to happen.

Her mother stood at the door, sobbing. “She's not here,” she cried. “She went away. She's gone. Go away.”

Letting the rag fall to the floor, Muriel turned toward the door, the hem of her robe making an audible “swish.” She saw at least two dozen men standing just beyond the door and her heart began to hammer.

“I knew he'd do it,” she thought as she walked to the door. “I knew he'd keep his promise and report me if I didn't continue with him. And he has.

“He has.”

Muriel stood behind her mother, took her gently by the shoulders and turned her around. “I have to go,” she said. “There's no way out.”

Her mother buried her face in Muriel's breast. “Why did you take up with him?” she sobbed. “And when he said he'd turn you in if you stopped, why didn't you just … just …”

“I couldn't,” Muriel said softly.

At first, Aaron had been so nice to her. He didn't make her feel cheap. His musical voice spoke of frustration with his wife and his need for more than just the physical aspect of what they were doing – but for the comfort and companionship, no matter how brief their meetings were. She knew it was wrong – but his embrace made her feel whole. It was a feeling that was entirely new to her.

Over the brief course of their affair, Aaron's attentions gave her a sort of “completeness” that was foreign to her. And she felt cared for. Protected. He'd even helped her widowed mother. When food was scarce, he'd send her home with enough to last for a week.

But she'd been stupid. And she knew it. When his tenderness was replaced by abuse – when his caresses had turned to slaps – she told him he would never lay a hand upon her again. And, she admitted to herself as she stepped through the door, she'd been stupid when she didn't believe he'd report her. He had a reputation as a righteous man. But, she supposed as rough arms grabbed her and began to drag her away from her home, his anger toward her must have overcome any fear of the gossip about him that would most certainly follow. Muriel knew he didn't fear his wife finding out about the two of them. She'd seen his wife for the first and only time just a day after breaking things off with him. He'd hulked over the tiny, bruise-covered woman while they shopped at the market. And the expression in Aaron's face when he saw here there, purchasing bread, told her he was considering doing just what he'd obviously done.

She looked for his face now, amid the sea of shouting mouths and frowning eyes. He was nowhere to be seen.

"I wonder where they're taking me?" she thought as her bare feet dragged along the rough ground. Normally, during these messy displays of justice, they dragged the offender out of her house and stoned her right in the street, in front of her home.

"HER home," she thought. "Always 'her.' The man involved might be punished somehow. He might not be. Aaron -- an important moneychanger at the temple -- might get spoken to. But, she supposed, that would be all there was to his punishment.

The many hands on her arms were hurting her. But she suddenly realized something.

"I'm not afraid," she said aloud. Nobody heard her. They were too occupied with their righteous and loud anger. So she said it again to herself. "I'm not afraid! I'm being taken somewhere to be killed, and I'm not afraid! I wonder why that is!"

She looked up and saw the temple looming before her. "So THAT'S it," she thought. "They're bringing me before Aaron, so he can enjoy seeing what happens to women who finally tell him 'no.'" She decided then and there that she would die quietly ... without screaming or crying, no matter how painful her death would be.

As they entered the temple, she saw a man speaking to a group of people. It looked like he was teaching them something. But her captors were dragging her toward him -- and finally threw her down right in FRONT of him. The man slowly got to his feet as the people he'd been teaching jumped backward, as if she'd been emitting a foul odor.

One of her captors stepped up to the man. "Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?"

"Say it and be done with it," Muriel thought, scanning the grounds of the temple for a glimpse of Aaron ... and seeing him across the yard. He was standing there with his arms folded. A satisfied smile played across his face.

Muriel listened for what the man would say. Most certainly, he'd tell them they must follow the law, and then it would begin to rain stones. But the man said nothing. Instead, the man stooped over and, with his index finger, began writing in the dirt.

She strained to see what he was doing, though she'd never learned to read. His finger moved slowly and deliberately -- and she didn't know how or why -- but she could tell what it was that he was writing! She'd never read a single word in her 24 years of living ... but these words, she could read!

Most of the words, that is. Some of the scrawlings she knew to be names -- but just like she could look at a particular insect, not knowing what KIND of insect it was ... merely knowing that it was a insect -- she understood that the words she COULDN'T read were NAMES.

They were the names of those who'd dragged her here. She was sure of that by the sprinkle of gasps and whistled breaths that came from the crowd of accusers. And as she strained to see the writing, those words that she WAS able to read described a litany of sins.

As he wrote, the words seemed to change on their own. He wasn't erasing them or rubbing them out -- they somehow changed as he wrote them. And Muriel realized -- those who had brought her here -- each individual man -- was seeing his secret sins being written into the sand. And somehow, as impossible as it was and though she couldn't decipher the names, she was able to read ALL of their sins!

(NAME) helped himself to the contents of the poor box.
(NAME) has a hard time keeping his hands off of his young daughter.
(NAME) beats his wife like a dog.
(NAME) talks about God as if he was a prophet but really doesn't believe in God.
(NAME) blasphemes regularly in the privacy of his home.
On and on and on it went.

And not knowing HOW she knew -- Muriel understood that although she was seeing these shifting sins in the dirt of the temple floor, one sin after another, her accusers could only see ONE sin.

His OWN!

"How could I know this?" she asked herself. "How can I know ANY of this? Who IS this man, writing in the dirt?"

Finally, the man got to his feet. Looking into his face for the first time, Muriel was struck by the BEAUTY of the man. If she'd been asked to put it into words, she wouldn't have been able to. The peaceful-yet-sad expression was like a cross between a sleeping newborn and a devout old man in the middle of a prayer! He looked down on her -- unsmiling, but clearly not angry. Then he faced the crowd and said, "Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her." And he then bent over again and began to write in the sand.

The crowd was silent. One man hefted his stone in his hand, and for a frightening moment, she thought, "He's going to throw his stone at HIM!!!" But, instead, the man let his stone fall to the ground -- turned -- and walked away.

Another stone dropped. And another.

Moments later, she was surrounded by over two dozen stones, which had been meant to kill her. Her accusers had gone, leaving her alone with the man who had written his letters in the sand.

Muriel got to her feet and looked at him, wondering what she should do. Thank him? Run away? But before she could decide, the man walked over to her. She had no fear of him. The man helped her to her feet, looking deeply into her eyes in a way no man had ever done before -- with love instead of longing.

As he looked at her, the people the man had been teaching began to gather around again. But the man didn't seem to notice them. He continued looking INTO her.

"Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"

The beauty ... the love in that voice.

"No one, sir," she replied.

A smile began to spread across the man's face. It was the most beautiful thing Muriel had ever seen!

"Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again."

The man took her hand. His skin was soft and cool. He squeezed her hand and gently released it, then turned away from her and began speaking to his students again, as if what had just happened had been nothing but a minor interruption.

Muriel began to cross the yard, then stopped and looked over toward where she'd seen Aaron when she'd believed her life was about to end. He was still there. But his expression had changed from smug satisfaction to confusion. Muriel knew Aaron had been too far away to have heard what this man had said to the crowd.

He'd hear soon enough, Muriel thought as she began slowly walking home.

She thought of her mother, and how joyous she'd be to see her daughter alive. And she thought about her life. Something inside of her had changed as she'd looked into the eyes of that man. Just WHAT had changed, she didn't know yet. But she knew something had changed.

Something in her heart was different. She could feel it. It made no sense, but she could feel it.

Muriel picked up her pace as she walked. She decided that she would try to find this man again ... find him and learn more about him. He'd done something to her. If she saw him again ... if she followed him ... maybe she'd know just what it was that ... in an instant ... had changed.

She WOULD know. As she broke into a run to get home to her mother, she KNEW that she'd find out just what it was about her that changed ... something inside of her was speaking to her.

And she had a feeling those changes would make themselves apparent in the very near future.

Heavenly Father, we thank you for the forgiveness that is ours the moment that we ask. Thank you for sending your son into the world as our ransom -- paying our sin debt. We will never be worthy of your undeserved favor, Father. So thank you for the gift of your son, Jesus, in whose name we pray. Amen.

Are ANY of us deserving of eternal life? Is it possible for a human to life a life so PERFECT that he or she doesn't NEED the saving grace of God?

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