If you would prefer to listen to this story as an audio recording, CLICK HERE.
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NOTE: As has become my annual practice, starting two weeks ago and continuing until next week, i am posting four short stories about four different people who encountered Jesus during the months leading up to His crucifixion and resurrection. You will find each of these individuals in the Gospel accounts, however i have added fictional elements to each of their stories so that we might see each one … as they journeyed through their lives leading up to their encounter … and as they continued their journey in the days that followed. You will read the parts of their stories you may already know … and the rest that could have been. Though some of the other characters and details contained in each story may be fictional, you will find the truth conveyed about the One they each encountered to be very REAL! My prayer is that through the stories, you will see Jesus and be reminded of the Good News of the cross and the empty tomb as we enter into this season of remembrance. To that end, let’s look at their stories:
The Grieving Mother (March 30)
The One Caught In The Act (This week – April 6)
The Man Who Owned The Upper Room (April 13)
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My name is Hepzibah and I grew up as the only child of a shopkeeper here in Jerusalem. My mother was struck with the fever and died when I was four years old. In many respects, my father died at the same time. He blamed God for my mother’s death and would no longer speak of Him. We never again observed any of the religious feasts, attended synagogue, or went to the temple.
Love died in our home that day as well. No longer were there any expressions of affection. Don’t misunderstand me, my father never treated me badly; he just never again expressed any love for me in any way. He became very cold and distant. The last hug I ever remember receiving was from my mother before she fell ill.
I don’t think my father stopped caring about me, but I believe his heart broke so deeply that he lost his capacity to love. Perhaps he was trying to protect his heart from ever again feeling such pain. I attempted to ask him about it a few times, but he would simply look off into the distance and walk away. I eventually stopped asking. When I tried to express my love for him, it was rejected. So, I grew up desiring love and affection, but it was never requited.
My father never thought about arranging a marriage for me. I don’t know why. Maybe it was because his marriage had ended so tragically. As the years passed – and I got older and older – I tried to talk to him about it, but he just shrugged me off. I was still living in a cold, empty house with my father when I was in my early twenties.
Each of my days pretty much looked the same. I kept my father’s house, cleaned and mended his clothes, and prepared his meals. The highlight of each day was going to the market to purchase food. For the most part, those were the only conversations I had each day. The food vendors became the family and friends I craved. There was one in particular who always took additional time to speak with me. He was the butcher, and one day I noticed he started quietly adding a little extra meat to my purchase.
His name was Alon and, though he was closer to my father’s age, he seemed to be genuinely interested in things that interested me. We would talk about faraway lands and the places I would love to visit. He was originally from northern Galilee. I had never traveled farther than a few miles outside of Jerusalem. So, his stories about the Mediterranean Sea and the Galilean hills captured my imagination. As time went on, he confided to me that he looked forward to my arrival each day.
One day when I showed up at his stand, he invited me to meet him at the pool of Bethesda at the end of the day. It would give us more time to talk without customers interrupting. I welcomed the opportunity. I had never been invited to go on a walk. I had never been invited to go anywhere with someone else. The time passed slowly as I waited to meet him. Then it passed quickly as we walked from the pool to the gardens and back again. The last person who had been this genuinely interested in me was my mother. My heart began to sing again.
That walk was the first of many in the gardens. Though we talked every moment we were together, we never talked about his personal life. I did not know anything about his family, and every time I asked he redirected our conversation. After a while, I stopped giving it a thought. Our time together was now what I lived for. I could endure everything else knowing I was going to spend time with Alon.
Our walks in the evening were now a regular event. My father never asked me why I was gone – and I never told him. As long as there was food on his table when he arrived home, he seemed quite content not to know.
But the absence of my father’s love no longer bothered me. There was another man in my life who was more than making up for it. I realized l had fallen in love with Alon. I had never felt this way before. And I was fairly certain he felt the same way about me.
It was now October. The late afternoons and evenings were cooler, and the sun was beginning to set earlier. We had met in the garden on the Mount of Olives. This was becoming our favorite place to walk. But that day, a bad storm blew in out of nowhere and began pelting us with driving rain. The sky turned dark and the wind was fierce.
Alon told me I could not travel home in that kind of weather. He told me he knew of a place nearby that we could shelter from the rain and the wind. The storm raged outside, but the place seemed strangely quiet and comforting. I felt safe with Alon.
I won’t go into detail about that night, but suffice it to say that Alon and I lay together as if we were husband and wife. The storm continued throughout the night, so we stayed in that place until the next morning.
It was barely light outside when we heard a loud knock. A voice demanded that we open the door. Alon cracked the door open, and several men pushed their way inside. To our surprise, there stood a woman, two priests, and four temple guards.
I soon learned that the woman was Alon’s wife! She began screaming and hitting him.
“I knew you had been up to no good for some time, but even in my wildest imagination I never believed you would be unfaithful to me!” she shouted. Then as I lay there on the bed, she unleashed her wrath on me.
Eventually, she ran out of strength. Though her anger didn’t subside, her screaming and flailing did. She turned to one of the priests who I quickly learned was her brother. “We will take them both to the temple to be condemned and stoned as the law requires!” he said.
But as angry as the woman was with her husband, she apparently didn’t want him stoned to death. “I am certain this is all the fault of this harlot and not my husband. Take her, but leave him for me to deal with!” she told her brother.
The law was clear that both the man and the woman caught in the act of adultery were to be stoned to death. But the other priest, who had been silent up until now, turned to the woman’s brother and said, “This may be just the opportunity we have been looking for to entrap Jesus. Leave the man for your sister to deal with. All we need is the woman.” Then with a smile, he added, “I am certain Caiaphas and Annas will reward us for our efforts!”
The woman’s brother seemed pleased with the suggestion. He instructed the guards to take hold of me and bring me to the temple. They at least allowed me to put on my cloak, though the rest of my garments were left there in the room. As we walked out the door, I looked back at Alon as he was facing his wife’s wrath. He didn’t return my gaze. In fact, he looked relieved.
A jumble of emotions raged inside me. My heart was broken. The only man I had ever loved – and the only man I thought loved me – had been using me and deceiving me. He had never loved me; he only lusted after me. That thought devastated me. My need for love had blinded me to reality.
And now I would be publicly berated and tried as an adulteress, subjected to shame and ridicule. Then I would be pummeled with stones until I died. Alon would suffer no such punishment. I alone would stand before the crowd. My sad and pathetic life was about to come to an end.
When we arrived at the temple, I was taken into a gathering of religious leaders. They all looked away from me with disdain. Obviously, they weren’t expecting a woman to be brought into their presence – particularly one in such disarray. The two priests who had arrested me walked over to speak with the one who appeared to be the high priest. They spoke in hushed tones. Soon a smile crossed the lips of the high priest. I couldn’t imagine why he was smiling. Nothing about this situation merited a smile. He turned to the council and the guards and instructed them to take me into the courtyard where Jesus was teaching.
This was the second time I had heard the name Jesus mentioned. I did not know who He was, but apparently, He would determine my fate.
The Man teaching in the courtyard was surrounded by a great crowd. As soon as we arrived, the crowd began to stir. The Man stopped speaking. All eyes turned toward me. I noticed that each of my accusers was picking up a stone. Suddenly everything became quiet.
The priest who earlier suggested that I, alone, be brought to the temple turned to the Man and smugly said, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. The law of Moses says to stone her. What do You say?”(1)
The Man looked at me. I was now certain He was the One they had referred to as Jesus. I stood there in fear and shame before Him and before them all. Behind me stood my accusers – the religious leaders – with an air of superiority, haughtiness, smugness, and contempt. Around me was the crowd – leering at me and craning their necks to see what Jesus was going to say or do. The only One who didn’t look at me with condemnation was Jesus.
After a few moments, He stooped down and began to write in the sand. He wrote as if He weren’t paying any attention to me or what was going on around Him.
I was close enough to see what Jesus was writing. He was writing a list of names, and beside each name He was writing a sin. By one He wrote “adultery.” By another He wrote “blasphemy.” By still another He wrote “thievery.” And on and on. He must have listed twenty names. But none of them was mine!
Though I did not know the names of my accusers, it looked as if Jesus were listing them in a ledger along with a specific sin each had committed. Was Jesus going to accuse them? These were obviously sins that these men would want to keep private. Not only would these sins be a great source of embarrassment, but if made public they could cost these men their positions of influence … perhaps some of them might even be stoned to death.
The priests continued to demand an answer. But when Jesus looked up, He didn’t look at me, He looked at them and said, “All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!”(2)
No one made a move. They just stared at what Jesus had written in the sand. After a few minutes, the only sound was that of the stones dropping from my accusers’ hands. Then one by one they turned and walked away.
Jesus looked at me and said, “Woman, where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?”(3) “No, Lord,”(4) I said. My eyes met His as He said, “Neither do I. Go and sin no more.”(5)
I was stunned. A few moments earlier, I believed I would soon be dead, but now I was being told I could go. Just moments ago, I felt completely alone. There was no one who cared for me. My father had emotionally abandoned me. The man I thought loved me had deceived me. The crowd had leered at me. The religious leaders had condemned me. But now, surprisingly, I no longer felt alone. I knew there was One who truly loved me. I also knew I could no longer remain in Jerusalem. I would leave my father’s home. But I knew there was One I would follow. I would join the group of men and women who were followers of Jesus.
He hadn’t condemned me; He had forgiven me. And I knew that the One who stood before me would never deceive me. He would never forsake me or abandon me. I had found the true love I had been looking for all of my life … and I would follow Him.
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This story is taken from The One Who Stood Before Us, a collection of forty short stories.The entire collection is available through Amazon in standard print, large print, for your e-reader. Click HERE for more information on how you can obtain your copy.
You can listen to an audio recording of this story by tuning into this week’s episode of my podcast by CLICKING HERE
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In multiple instances the dialogue in this story comes directly from Scripture. Whenever i am quoting Scripture, it has been italicized. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.
The Scripture references are as follows:
(1) John 8:4
(2) John 8:7
(3) John 8:10
(4) John 8:11
(5) John 8:11
Copyright © 2022 Kenneth A. Winter All rights reserved.
Photo by Carlos E. Santa Maria on Lightstock