Between the Lines (A story). John 8:1-11

I decided to take a slight vacation from writing about the JW's and write a story based on the Bible. Many stories in the Bible are written in just a few words with the details left to our imagination. I have taken one such story and filled in the details which may or may not have taken place. Why "Between the Lines"? Because what I add to Holy Scripture can only be found in the "white space" of your Bible--"Between the Lines."

THE FINGER OF GOD

Payment due. The normal payment was the equivalent of one meal but Jared paid two. One for service rendered and one for silence. After all, it wouldn’t do for a merchant of fine gold and silver jewelry to be associated with a common street prostitute.

Jared had plans, big plans and being linked to a common whore would certainly scuttle his dreams for the future. For now he made a good living at designing, making and selling jewelry to the better families in Jerusalem and the surrounding villages. He had learned his trade, as an only son, from his father who learned it from his father. It was Jared’s responsibility, every month, to sell the items from market-to-market throughout greater Jerusalem. His family business earned a decent living but when he married, his father-in-law’s contacts were the basis for a thriving business. Jared’s market-to-market selling was creating such a demand that his family was planning to train two other young men to fill the increase.

It was well worth the double payment to guarantee Azubah’s silence. It took one month to make the circuit of markets and towns and once a month Jared stopped at Azubah’s to reward himself for his hard work. His wife of ten years was more of a business venture than a marriage. His father-in-law was a merchant in precious metals and Jared’s supplier of gold and silver. He also supplied a number of customer contacts for a small fee.

On this particular afternoon, as Jared walked back from Azubah’s, his mind drifted to his bright future. Training new workers, more jewelry made, more jewelry sold, more money made, more of life’s luxuries to purchase. His day dreaming was interrupted by the sound of an angry crowd, shouting for death and death by stoning. Jared made his way to the shouts which were coming from the temple and rounding a corner he ran into the crowd. Pushing his way almost to the front Jared saw the object of their anger. A young prostitute (he didn’t know her but he knew the look) was up against a wall trying to hide her face. Before he knew when or how, he started shouting with the mob, “Stone her. Stone her.”

Several Pharisees, the ones who brought the girl to the temple, turned their attention to a man they referred to as “teacher.” Jared recognized this “teacher,” having seen him on his many visits to the markets in the area. What he taught Jared did not know or care to know. He was too busy with today and plans for tomorrow.

But this interested Jared. The crowd called her an adulteress but he was sure she was a prostitute. The difference was minor, if there was a difference and he was curious as to what this “teacher” would do with her. The Law of Moses was clear, the desire of the crowd was clearer. To please the crowd he was sure the teacher would go along with their pronouncement. Jared looked around for a stone.

The teacher stooped down for a moment, wrote something in the dirt, stood immediately and pronounced judgment. “He who is without sin, cast the first stone.” What—Jared’s head spun for a moment—the sentence was so at odds with what he—the crowd expected. And he was holding the perfect stone.

Closest to the teacher was an older member of Jared’s synagogue—Amminadab by name, a close family friend who dealt in spices from the east. Amminadab was no longer shouting nor was he looking at the teacher or the prostitute. He was staring at the spot where the teacher wrote in the dirt. A look of horror came over his face. He dropped his stone, turned and made his way out of the crowd. As he left, another stepped forward to take his place.

What could have caused such a reaction? Jared wanted to know and started pushing his way through the crowd to follow Amminadab. As he jostled his way through the throng, he noticed Caleb, a friend since youth, who had stepped forward to take the place of yet another man who had turned and left. Caleb was only in the front, with stone in hand, for a moment when he too stared down at the ground where the teacher had scribbled something in the dirt. His face became ashen, his eyes wide. He too dropped his stone and quickly made his way out of the crowd.

Jared no longer thought about Amminadab but turned his attention to his friend, Caleb. Jared quickly was free of the crowd and walking hastily to exit the temple. Once he left the temple his walk turned into a run and he quickly overtook Caleb. As Jared turned Caleb around, he could see tears flowing from his friend’s eyes. “I have sinned against Yahweh, I have sinned against my wife. I am most wretched of men,” Caleb moaned. Jared’s head whirled. What could my friend of 20 years have done that would bring him to tears? His sobbing was so profound that Jared found tears coming to his eyes, sorry that his friend was in such pain. When Caleb had calmed down, and dried his eyes Jared asked, “What was it when you got to front of the crowd that so broke your heart and caused you to cry out to God?”

Caleb then related to Jared his great sin. Five years prior his wife had barely survived the birth of their third child, their third son. She was six months in recovery and during that time Caleb had found comfort in the arms of a prostitute. Even after his wife had recovered he continued to see the harlot. Today he found himself in the temple and just like Jared was lured to the crowd by the noise and just like Jared picked up a stone to stone the woman. However, when he got to the front, near the teacher, he was drawn to the word the teacher had scrawled in the dirt—Tirzah—his prostitute.

As they talked, Caleb said he was going to his wife, confess his sin and ask her and God for forgiveness. When they parted, Jared’s thoughts turned to Amminadab, the first in the crowd to drop his stone and flee.

He knew where the elder lived and he knew he would be alone. His wife had died eight years prior and his four children did not live beyond their teenage years.

When Jared approached Amminadab’s home, he could hear a mournful sobbing which quickly ended when he rapped on the door. He knocked a second, then a third time. Amminadab eventually answered the door. Barely peering out he was reluctant to allow Jared entrance but Jared was persistent and convincing and he soon found himself inside. The elderly man’s eyes and nose were red and he inquired why Jared was honoring him with this visit.

Jared explained his day and all that happened, carefully leaving out any reference to his friend, Caleb. He asked Amminadab, why in one brief moment he had gone from shouting, “stone her, stone her,” to fleeing the mob and seeking solace in his home. The old man began sobbing and after acquiring Jared’s promise of silence, related his story.

A year after his wife died he started visiting a prostitute, a young girl and had continued seeing this same woman from then until now. As he stood next to the teacher, stone in hand, ready to kill the adulteress, the teacher wrote in the dirt—Zilpha—his prostitute. Jared was speechless.

As he listened to his old friend, he was replaying in his mind the events of the day in the temple. He distinctly remembered the teacher had crouched down only once to write in the dirt. After standing, both Caleb and Amminadab stared at the same patch of dirt before turning away. Jared had inquired of his remorseful old friend, “what else was written in the dirt besides Zilpha?”

“Nothing,” was the reply. “I starred at it for an eternity and saw only that one word. It was seared into my mind.”

Now Jared was perplexed. How could two people see two different words in the dirt? Guilty conscious perhaps? Jared was just curious enough to investigate the matter. Could the word written by the teacher have survived a couple of hours of crushing crowds in the temple? Not likely but just maybe. Maybe a letter or a part of a letter survived, enough to help him solve this mystery. As fast as possible he made his way back to the temple. He quickly found the wall where the prostitute hid her face and then stood where he had been when the teacher wrote in the dirt. As he approached ‘the spot’ he could see some letters had indeed survived. In fact, the letters being trod upon right that moment did not disappear or diminish.

There in the dirt he could see that something was still visible. It was a miracle—it appeared that most if not all the letters survived. He positioned himself to read what had been written and recoiled in horror. It was not Zilpha, nor was it Tirzah. Clearly written in the dirt, as if it was made just moments ago—Azubah.

"O Lord, the hope of Israel, all who forsake you shall be put to shame; those who turn away from you shall be written in the earth, for they have forsaken the Lord, the fountain of living water." Jeremiah 17:13