Neither Do I Condemn You — And He Meant It

She's still standing there. Everyone else is gone. And the only one left is the one who had every right to throw the first stone.

She doesn't know what's coming. She was told she was going to die. Execution by stoning — and it was going to happen today. She'd been dragged through the streets near naked, humiliated in front of the whole city, called "such" by the religious leaders, reduced to her worst act. And now she's alone with Him.

And here's what Jesus says:

"Woman, where are those accusers of yours? Has no one condemned you?" She said, "No one, Lord." And Jesus said to her, "Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more."

John 8:10–11 (NKJV)

Neither do I condemn you.

Make it personal. That is Jesus speaking to you.

The only one who could throw a stone — didn't.

Here's something I need you to see clearly. Jesus sent everyone away with one question: let him who is without sin cast the first stone. And one by one, starting with the oldest, they left.

They were the most outwardly righteous people in the society — the scribes and Pharisees, the religious establishment. And not one of them could stay. Why? Because not one of them was without sin. Every stone they'd been holding, they had to put down.

Jesus was the only sinless person in that courtyard. He was the only one — the only one — with the legitimate right to pick up a stone and throw it. And He didn't.

The one person who could condemn you, won't.

There's also this to consider. Notice how Jesus asked her: "Where are your accusers? Has no one condemned you?" He doesn't answer for them. He lets her look around herself. He lets her be the one to see — they're gone. He wants her to see it with her own eyes.

He was the only one who could have. He chose not to.

She committed adultery. That was not imaginary. The sin was real. And Jesus, who knew it perfectly well, looked at her and said: neither do I condemn you.

He did not require her to prove she was sorry enough. He did not put her on a six-month probation. He did not tell her to get herself cleaned up before He would help her. He did not deliver a speech about the seriousness of what she'd done.

He removed condemnation. Immediately. Unconditionally.

Now, I want you to also notice what He did say: "Go and sin no more." He didn't pretend the sin hadn't happened. He didn't say it was fine. He told her the truth — in love, without condemnation. He believed she could do better. He believed grace had the power to actually change her.

That is what love does. It removes condemnation and then tells the truth.

There is therefore now no condemnation — and that includes you.

Romans 8:1 says it plainly:

There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus.

Romans 8:1 (NKJV)

"No condemnation" doesn't mean no more wrong things. You can still do wrong. And when you do, it's still wrong — that's truth, not condemnation. But Jesus knowing it's wrong does not result in Him condemning you for it. That is not who He is.

He demonstrated it with this woman. He demonstrated it time and time again. And He is not going to suddenly change His character the moment it's your turn.

If He wouldn't condemn her — caught in the very act — He will not condemn you.

Stop throwing stones at yourself that even your accusers put down.

Here's the part I want you to sit with. There is somebody reading this right now who has spent years — maybe decades — condemning themselves over something that Jesus has already forgiven.

The religious men put the stones down. They walked away. And you picked them up and have been throwing them at yourself ever since.

Jesus is the only one who had the right to condemn you. He didn't. So why are you still standing there in self-condemnation, convinced that you should feel ashamed, that it would somehow be wrong not to feel condemned?

That is not who He is. That is not the picture He gave us in John 8.

The stones belong on the ground. Leave them there.

He looked down so she didn't have to meet every eye.

There's a detail in this story I don't want to skip. Both times the crowd was pressing Him, Jesus stooped down and wrote on the ground. He looked away.

There's a view that He did this deliberately — to relieve some of the pressure on her. So she wasn't standing there having to meet the eyes of everyone in the crowd while He dealt with the religious leaders. So she had a moment of not being on display, not being stared at. A small mercy in the middle of a terrible moment.

Whether or not that's exactly why He did it — the character it reveals is the same. He was thinking about her dignity even while dismantling the trap. He saw her as a person, not a case. She was not "such" to Him. She was someone whose shame He was willing to absorb so she didn't have to carry it alone.

Is this the Jesus you've been seeing?

I want to ask you directly: is this who you see when you think about coming to God after you've done something wrong?

Or do you see a reluctant judge who's going to make you prove yourself before He'll drop the gavel? A God who is calculating how bad you've messed up before deciding whether to help you? A God who is part of the problem?

Because if that's who you've been seeing — you've been handed a false picture of Jesus. And that false picture has been keeping you from running to Him when you need Him most.

This is who He is. He sent the accusers away. He stooped down so she didn't have to be on display. He waited until she could hear it clearly. And then He looked her in the eye and said: "Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more."

That is the love of the Father in action. That is the Jesus who wants you to come to Him — not after you've fixed yourself, not after you've suffered enough, not after you've proven you're sincere.

Right now. As you are. Neither does He condemn you.

Fight To Win.