Infidelity, a nicer word for adultery perhaps, is far more common than most want to admit. The American Association for Marriage and Family Therapy reports that when it comes to married couples, between 10 and 15 percent of women and 20 and 25 percent of men are unfaithful. That’s around one in ten and about one out of four. Sadly, the numbers do not represent a much higher percentage who, according to Jesus, commit adultery in their hearts when they look at someone lustfully. (Don’t even get me started on the problem of porn.) My point? More than most of us want to acknowledge, too many are too often unfaithful and far from perfect. That’s the bad news, but there is some good news we must focus on if we are to walk in hope. And there are lessons we can learn from infidelity.
John’s gospel tells a fascinating story of grace and mercy (found in John 8:3-11). Some translators add a footnote to the text, noting that this story may not be in the original manuscript. However, the story is absolutely in line with the rest of the gospel stories and much like Jesus. Nonetheless, whether included in the first manuscripts or not, the encounter of Jesus with a woman caught in the act of adultery is rich with application for all Christ-followers.
Here’s the paraphrase of what happened:
Jesus is teaching in the temple courts with many people gathered around him. A bunch of men, the Pharisees, drag a woman caught in adultery in front of Jesus and everybody else. They made her stand there as they shamed her and tried to trap Jesus into breaking the law of Moses that demanded she be stoned to death for her sin. (I wonder where the guy is who did the deed with her? Hmmm.)
Jesus didn’t bite. He bent over and started to doodle in the dirt with his finger. We have no idea what he is writing, but I think he was making a list of the sins each accuser was guilty of committing or perhaps writing the Ten Commandments. But the hardliners wouldn’t let Jesus off the hook and kept badgering Him.
Jesus stood up, looked these hypocrites in the eye, and said, “Whoever is perfect (i.e., without sin), you go ahead and cast the first stone. Then Jesus bent over and returned to doing whatever he was doing on the ground.
Well, things didn’t go as they expected for this ad hoc men’s club, and probably out of embarrassment, they split one at a time, beginning with the older ones first. (Understandably since we older guys typically have a lot more sins to account for on the list.)
So, the woman ends up alone in front of Jesus. He looks at her and asks, “Woman, where are your accusers? Has no one condemned you?” I am pretty sure she is sobbing from relief, probably half-clothed, and still very embarrassed, as she bows her head and says, “No one has condemned me, sir.” (Insert heaving sigh.) Jesus then tells her the most incredible thing, “Neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin.”
In case you need a word picture for grace, this encounter is an incredible example of amazing grace. I imagine her wiping her nose and eyes as she pulls her torn garment over her shoulders as best as she can to cover herself, and then walks through the stunned crowd. As I said, I love this story because it demonstrates the kindness, goodness, and mercy of Jesus so well. (Here is another great article about this woman.)
What bugs me…
Most Christians enjoy using this story for two reasons. First, it shows off how fantastic Jesus is. (That’s good.) Second, they like to use it as a warning and a “yeah-but” statement. (That’s bad.)
I hear something like this regularly from too many Christians regarding this passage: Sure, Jesus didn’t want her dead, he didn’t condemn her, and she was forgiven, but Jesus sure put the fear of God in her! From their perspective, they suggest Jesus was tough (you know, that tough love thing), and his words and tone were demanding. Alrighty, sweetheart, you got off easy this time, but you better cut it out and stop being so stupid. You can go on your way, but you better not screw up again!
Why are we so quick to use Jesus’ stories of grace to put sinners in their place? Isn’t it possible (and far more probable, knowing Jesus) that there was something wonderfully gentle and kind in His tone with this woman? Instead of a warning or a threat, what if Jesus was tenderly telling her, Hon, this was the worst moment of your life. I know how shamed and horrible and embarrassed you feel right now. Listen, that’s not the heart of Abba for you. He and I care about you so much that I beg you to learn from this tragic moment, so you never have to go through this again.
Of course, Jesus wants us to stop sinning and make good choices. But his words in the aftermath of our stupidity are never a veiled threat. Please hear his voice’s tenderness, acceptance, and love that encourages us to grow. Jesus wants us to change and grow so we won’t hurt ourselves or others anymore.
You can land first and foremost on the “go your way and sin no more” part, or you can start where Jesus started, “neither do I condemn you.”
Here is the heart of Jesus for those of us who fail:
- Grow in grace.
- Bathe in God’s mercy.
- Change.
- Stop sinning.
- And be better, smarter, and wiser.
Jesus challenged the woman not to continue in her sin…
Yes, absolutely! Jesus challenged her to change. But we need to drop the tendency to add a “yeah, but” warning to the love and grace of God. That’s not the heart of Father God toward us. His love is unconditional, and we can never do anything to make God love us any more or any less than he already does. Nothing. Period. End of story. Roll the credits.
I love this quote by Robin R. Meyers from Saving Jesus from the Church, “Condemnation feels good, and it is now a staple of religion, politics, and the media (both left and right), but it changes nothing. Compassion, on the other hand, changes everything.” (Here is a review of Meyers’s book.) Jesus knew this better than any of us. Condemnation changes nothing but love changes everything because love changes hearts.
Understandably, after my infidelity and divorce, people were hurt and disappointed. Sadly, however, many treated me harshly and said extremely hurtful things. At one point, I told my new wife, Katherine, “I wish everyone would just leave me be because I’m doing the best I can. I know the Bible. I know theology. I know I sinned. But I also know that Jesus has forgiven me, wiped my slate clean, and is working to renew and rebuild my life.”
Nevertheless, some I once considered my closest friends wrote me off and walked away in frustration or disgust. How sad. How upsetting. How unlike Jesus.
The Holy Spirit recently turned the table on me…
He spoke to my heart, “Kurt, do unto others as you would have them do to you. Love as you want to be loved. A person withholding love from you often needs more love from others. So, forgive others the way you pray to be forgiven. And understand, the ones who are hard on you are often filled with self-hatred and in desperate need of greater mercy.” I tried to argue with God, never a good idea, and said, “I have forgiven them, but…” The Lord spoke to my heart again, “There’s no such thing as ‘I forgive you, but…’”
If we are in harm’s way or being currently abused by someone, we can create temporary boundaries for our protection, but we never get to say:
- “I forgive you, but I don’t ever want you in my life again.”
- “I forgive you, but I’m never gonna trust you.”
- “I forgive you, but that doesn’t mean I need to be reconciled to you.”
The Bible teaches that the very essence and meaning of love is to take the risk of reconciliation, seek the renewal and rebuilding of relationships, and trust that God is bigger than any person’s broken human nature.
Love is risky, costly, messy, and never easy when disappointed by someone who has broken our hearts. But love anyhow because that’s when we look and sound the most like our Father. James, the half-brother of Jesus, wrote, “Judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment” James 2:13.
Yes, mercy is messy, but God can create a miraculous masterpiece of grace out of our mess.
God takes our mess and broken parts
And shapes a masterpiece of heart,
With mercy woven
Grace bestowed
A miracle in us unfolds.
Please leave a comment below, and let’s engage in a conversation.
You can find out more about Kurt Bubna and his writing on Twitter and Facebook. You can read more about his views and insights, both in his books and on his website.