The Finger of God
There are moments in life we hope no one ever finds out about. Words we said in anger. Decisions we made in weakness. Secret sins we buried, hoping they’d stay hidden. Now imagine your worst moment . . . the one you hope no one ever sees . . . being made public.
Sometimes people imagine their worst moments being put on display for all the world to see at God's final judgment. I don't think I want all of humanity watching a play-by-play of my life. There are some things I would like to keep out of the spotlight and off the big screen.
But that's what happened to her. She was dragged into the light. She was surrounded by glaring eyes and condemning fingers.
She had no name in the story. The text doesn't give any indication that she had a chance to explain. She was “caught in the act” and thrown down in front of Jesus in the temple courts. The morning crowd that had gathered to hear Him teach now became a courtroom audience.
And in front of them all, she stood. Her shame exposed. Her fate sealed. There's also no real indication in the text that she was innocent, or that the accusation was a "made-up" charge. In fact, John wrote caught in adultery.
The Pharisees weren’t just after justice. They were after Jesus. This was a trap, carefully staged. “If this teacher truly upholds the law, He’ll have to approve the stoning. If He doesn’t, He’s soft on sin.” To them, she was bait. A pawn. A theological test case.
But Jesus saw a person.
He didn’t speak at first. He didn’t argue. He stooped down . . . and began to write in the dirt with His finger.
No one knows exactly what He wrote. I think He wrote the Ten Commandments. The very laws the Pharisees claimed to defend. The Ten Commandments were written by the finger of God.
“He gave him the two tablets of the Testimony, the tablets of stone inscribed by the finger of God.” (Exodus 31:18)
“The LORD gave me two stone tablets inscribed by the finger of God…” (Deuteronomy 9:10)
The finger of God had written the law once before on Mount Sinai. Now, it was writing again — not on stone, but in dust. The same dust from which man was formed. The One who formed man from that dust and wrote the Law on Mount Sinai was writing again. Only those watching had no idea what they were witnessing.
This was no random act. It was a moment full of meaning.
Then Jesus stood and said just one sentence: Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.
He didn’t dismiss the law. He simply widened its reach. The silence grew heavy. The stones didn’t fly.
Instead, one by one, they dropped. Oldest to youngest. One by one, they walked away.
Perhaps, as they read what was written in the dirt, they remembered their own sin. Not just what they’d done, but what they’d hidden.
The courtroom emptied. The accusers were gone. And now, the woman who had been dragged in for judgment was standing alone with Mercy.
Jesus looked at her, not with scorn, not with superiority. He saw her. Not a pawn or a theological test case. He saw a person.
We should see what Jesus saw every time we encounter someone in this world. A person. A soul with an eternal destiny.
"Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"
"No one, Lord," she replied.
"Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus said. "Go now, and leave your life of sin."
He didn’t ignore her sin. He didn’t excuse it. He forgave her and then called her to something greater. He loved her too much to leave her in shame. But He also loved her too much to leave her unchanged.
The stones of condemnation had fallen, but grace had risen.
We don’t know what became of her. The story doesn’t tell us. But how could she ever be the same?
When you’ve been seen, spared, and spoken to by the Son of God, your story doesn’t end in scandal. It begins again in mercy. And it ends in victory.
đź’ˇ Takeaway
Jesus doesn’t just cover your past. He calls you into a new future.
He doesn't drag your failure into the spotlight. He doesn't control you through fear. He transforms you with love. He walks beside you with grace and truth — hand in hand.
5 Lessons to Take Into the Week
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Your worst moment doesn’t define you.
Grace writes a new ending where judgment tries to stop your story. -
Jesus brings both compassion and command.
He says, “I don’t condemn you”… and then, “Go and sin no more.” -
God’s law isn’t a weapon; it’s a mirror.
It reveals sin, but only Jesus can remove it. -
Mercy walks into our shame without flinching.
Jesus stood between her and the stones. He does the same for you. -
The presence of Jesus always changes the ending.
What should have ended in death became a beginning.
This week, you might find yourself standing where she stood -- face to face with failure, desperate for mercy, feeling the sting of your own choices. Let Jesus rescue you.
Or you may be holding the stone in your hand, staring at someone else's sin. Respond with grace, truth, and compassion. Jesus didn't shame her. He saved her.
Thanks,
Greg
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