Author: C.A. Phillips

This week, we’ve been taking a closer look at the story of the woman condemned to death, but another similar exchange happened between Jesus and the Pharisees. Like the story in John 8, this account also involved a woman whose reputation preceded her.

In both stories, the Pharisees are mired in their self-righteousness. They have a penchant for identifying the sins of others but are oblivious to their own need for a Savior. However, the immoral woman anointing Jesus’ feet has found new life in her Savior. In fact, Jesus comments that she loves much because she has been forgiven much.

In yesterday’s devotional, I shared that we don’t truly know what became of the woman caught in adultery. However, we can be certain that her encounter with Jesus left her a changed woman. Jesus’ grace quite literally gave her “new life,” as she had been condemned to death by the Pharisees.

If you have been on the receiving end of mercy and grace, you know how it tends to heighten your compassion and love for others. When you’ve experienced brokenness and walked through the painful restoration process, your vision for others becomes clearer.

Conversely, if you have been forgiven little—or if you’ve fooled yourself into thinking you’re perfect—you extend that same measure of love and compassion to others.

Sandwiched between the two excerpts from Luke 7 above is an exchange between Jesus and the man who invited Him to his home:

41 Then Jesus told him this story: “A man loaned money to two people—500 pieces of silver to one and 50 pieces to the other. 42 But neither of them could repay him, so he kindly forgave them both, canceling their debts. Who do you suppose loved him more after that?”

43 Simon answered, “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the larger debt.”

“That’s right,” Jesus said.

Forgiveness opens the door to living with open hands and an open heart. The best news is that Jesus has already forgiven you. When you recognize that you owe a debt you could never repay and accept His gift of new life, your story is given a new chapter—and an eternally joyful ending.

Jesus has saved the woman—quite literally. In an attempt to trap Him, these men brought the woman and likely hurled her at Jesus’ feet, throwing the Law in His and the woman’s face. They were daring Jesus to step in and speak blasphemy. But Jesus was light-years ahead of them. He flipped the script and sent them on their way.

Now, it’s just the woman and Jesus. She is humiliated—alive, yes, but ashamed.

He reminds her that no one has condemned her. She has escaped the throes of death. But Jesus doesn’t leave it there. He presses in. I imagine He looks her in the eyes and, with compassion in His voice, plainly tells her, “Go and sin no more.”

Jesus doesn’t pardon the sin or make light of it. He knows her heart was hardened before she was caught, but now it has softened because of the mercy and grace He has shown. This is not just a teaching moment—it’s a life-altering moment.

We don’t know what became of the woman. We aren’t sure if she heeded Jesus’ words or became one of His followers. But at this point in the story, we must insert ourselves. We all have the opportunity to experience new life through the redemptive power of Christ’s love.

2 Corinthians 5:17 says, “Anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!”

The power of sin is diminished when we abide in our “newness” in Christ.

Paul implored the Christians in Ephesus to remember why they originally turned their lives over to Jesus:

“But that is not how you came to know Christ, assuming you heard about Him and were taught by Him, as the truth is in Jesus, to take off your former way of life, the old self that is corrupted by deceitful desires, to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, the one created according to God’s likeness in righteousness and purity of the truth.” —Ephesians 4:20-24 (CSB)

How about you? Are you still trying to put on the “old self” and live apart from your Savior? If you’re one of His children, be reminded that the old version of you no longer exists! Embrace your new life in Christ and the freedom He bought for you on the cross!

In my formative years, I loved watching professional wrestling on TBS. I remember Gordon Solie and, later, Tony Schiavone on the mic each week as the best wrestlers paraded out and got the crowd riled up. There were “good guys”—known as “babyfaces”—and “bad guys”—known as “heels.” Of course, I always rooted for the good guys. I was particularly enamored with wrestlers like Tommy “Wildfire” Rich, Mr. Wrestling No. 1 and 2, and The American Dream, Dusty Rhodes.

There were some memorable bad guys as well—The Iron Sheik, Super Destroyer, Roddy Piper, and Abdullah the Butcher. But one bad guy took the cake: The Nature Boy, Ric Flair. I mean, I despised him—flaunting his long golden locks and strutting around in his flashy, full-length robes. Flair was known for his devastating finishing move, the Figure Four. If he locked his opponent in that hold, it was over.

All bad guys like Ric Flair were merciless in the ring. Worse, they would cheat when the referee wasn’t looking—choking a guy on the ropes or sneaking in an extra stomp to his forehead. But on those rare occasions when Flair’s opponent had the upper hand, he would beg for mercy. He would crouch low, hands spread wide, head shaking from side to side, pleading to be spared. Often, the good guy would relent—because, well, he was a good guy. And that would lead to his downfall, as Flair would seize the moment and make him pay. But there were also those times when the good guy—urged on by the roaring crowd—didn’t fall for it and instead delivered an elbow between the eyes. And the crowd went wild.

We’re often the same way. We want to see “the bad guy” get what’s coming to him. In this story, the “bad guy” is the woman caught in adultery. The mob gathers to see her punished—to see justice served. Jesus gives the Pharisees an answer to their challenge:

“OK. Go ahead. But the first stone must be thrown by the man who has no sin.”

But after Jesus stuns her accusers, they skedaddle, leaving only the two of them.

The man without sin—the only one who can condemn this woman—chooses instead to offer grace. Jesus becomes the rescuer in the bleakest moment of her life.

Are you eager to see others “get theirs,” or are you on the lookout for opportunities to show grace to hurting souls? You just might be the rescuer someone needs at the bottom of their pit.

It seems that society has always had an insatiable appetite for gossip, celebrity headlines, scandals, and sensationalized news stories. We’ve had The National Enquirer, The Jerry Springer Show, Keeping Up with the Kardashians (and every other reality show with Housewives in the title), and, more recently, TMZ. Shows and publications like these survive because of our consumption—plain and simple.

But long before tabloids and sleazy TV, humans still found ways to elevate themselves and degrade others without the benefit of media. In this case, it was spearheaded by those regarded as the Jewish spiritual leaders of the day—the Pharisees. These proud men were blind to their own misgivings and got a perverse thrill out of watching others suffer in shame, sometimes even to the point of death. Or maybe both.

In His omniscience, Jesus saw through the façade. He knew their true intentions, and He knew the perfect weapon to send them running back home: a mirror.

Have you ever found yourself taking satisfaction in someone else’s name being dragged through the mud? If so, I encourage you to pull out the same mirror Jesus used to show the Pharisees how they had come up short. We can become so caught up in artificially elevating ourselves and inflating our pride that our hearts grow calloused—just like those of the men condemning the woman caught in adultery.

Many theologians believe that when Jesus was writing in the dust, He was revealing deeply personal, incriminating details about each of these men—details only He would know. And before long, the woman and Jesus were the only ones left.

As you begin or continue your day, ask the Lord for a soft, compassionate heart. And pray that you can drop your rocks before someone ever has to point out where you’ve missed the mark.

As I read stories like this one, I wonder what role I might have played if I were in the narrative. Would I be the “sinner” (defendant), or would I be the “jury”? Or would I play the part of the judge?

If I am honest, I’ve been in all three seats at one time or another in my own story—none of them enviable roles. At times, I have been the offender. Other times, I’ve pleaded for “justice” or “punishment” for someone who sinned against me or a loved one. And, on rare occasions, I’ve sat in the Chief Justice seat with my kids, delivering judgment on offenses both big and small.

But as I close my eyes and try to visualize how this series of events transpired, I can only wonder what this woman was feeling as she faced certain death. Nowhere in this scene do we hear her speak up to defend herself. After all, she was literally caught in the act of adultery. She had no defense to offer. However, she had a Defender—a Savior—who cared for her more deeply than even her sins could take her.

What’s even more striking to me is the callousness of this woman’s accusers. Not only did they take her from the scene of her sin (they were likely staking out the place, knowing she would be there), but their true motives were revealed when they arrived at the temple. Their real goal was to trap Jesus.

“What could he possibly say or do to save this woman from death? If he speaks against the Law, we’ve got him!”

The problem from the outset with these men was that they had blinders on their own hearts. And at times, so do we. We can become so focused on the wrongs others are committing that we fail to see the chinks in our own armor.

Where are you in this story? You may not have committed adultery, and you likely haven’t dragged someone to their imminent death. But you and I can find ourselves in both capacities—offender and condemner. And it’s not until the eyes of our hearts are opened that we see our brokenness and find a Savior who loves us enough to step into the story and give us a new life.

There are quite a few head-scratchers in Scripture: questions about why certain events unfolded as they did, and why God allowed certain things to happen the way they were recorded. As I read and examine many of these incidents, I’m left with this question: why does God allow His people to suffer…for doing good?

We don’t have the time to delve into every aspect of this age-old mystery. However, we see countless examples in the Bible of people doing the right thing yet suffering as though they had committed a terrible crime. Why?

1 Peter 3:17, taken on its own, is challenging to understand. We need some context here to begin to grasp what Peter is trying to convey in this passage:

• Peter is writing to new Christians—primarily Gentiles (non-Jews) who are being persecuted. They are being treated harshly, verbally abused, and discriminated against. Some have endured torture and death.
• Peter urges them to keep their focus on the glory that awaits in eternity and to remember how Christ suffered on their behalf.
• Peter, an Apostle, had seen, spoken with, and been restored by the risen Christ. He witnessed Christ’s suffering but also saw that Jesus rose to new life!
• Peter wants readers to understand that we are blessed to share in the suffering of Christ. When we experience pain, mistreatment, agony, hardship, and torment, we identify with Him and gain greater intimacy with Him.

Here are a couple of Scripture passages that might help us reconcile 1 Peter 3:17:

“And since we are his children, we are his heirs. In fact, together with Christ we are heirs of God’s glory. But if we are to share his glory, we must also share his suffering. Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later.” – Romans 8:17-18 (NLT)

“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord. “And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.” – Isaiah 55:8-9 (NLT)

The essence of Christianity is faith in who Jesus Christ is and trusting in Him as Lord and Savior. We must hold fast to the hope of the resurrection because this is why Jesus suffered in the first place—to redeem us with His body and blood so that we could share in the resurrection with Him!

Sin and suffering are intertwined and have been since humanity’s fall in the Garden of Eden. The best way to handle suffering—especially suffering for doing good—is to lean on the Lord, look forward to the eternal prize that awaits, and live righteously, so that those who see you suffering will notice there’s something different about you.

Nothing is wasted when we live for Christ.

I’ve got two words for you: Road Rage.

If you’ve been behind the wheel of a car, you’ve seen it and almost certainly felt it. Traffic is infuriating, but inconsiderate, self-absorbed drivers take things to a new level. We all have our stories to share, but a friend of mine recently told one that left me in stunned silence.

He was simply driving to the grocery store, making his way through the parking lot. He spotted a vehicle backing out of a parking space ahead and turned on his blinker. He waited for the driver to pull out and even backed up his car to give the driver extra room. Just as he was about to turn into the vacant space, a young man came out of nowhere, cut him off, and pulled into the space ahead of him. My friend honked, but this fine young gentleman accompanied his selfish act with some hand gestures.

As my friend told me this story, my blood began to boil. I started thinking about what I would have said or how I would have responded, and none of them are found in the Sermon on the Mount.

But my friend remained calm and simply kept driving through the parking lot until he found another space—a couple of aisles over from where he had planned to park. He then proceeded to go into the grocery store, grabbed a few items, checked out, and walked back to his car. As he made his way through the lot, he spotted the guy who had cut him off. The young man was standing in front of his car with the hood propped open. My friend walked over and asked, “Is there any way I can help?”

By this point, my jaw had dropped, and I was feeling severely convicted—and I was just listening to the story!

The young man immediately realized who was offering to help him. He felt about an inch tall at that point, but my friend persisted. “Do you know what’s wrong?”

“My battery is dead,” the guy sheepishly replied. “My car won’t start.”

“Well, I’ve got some jumper cables in my car,” my buddy said. “I’m happy to grab them and see if I can help get your car started.”

Before the guy could decline the offer, my friend moved his car, retrieved the cables, connected them to the battery terminals in both vehicles, and successfully jump-started the guy’s battery. The young man was grateful but clearly ashamed of himself.

“If I had been you, I don’t think I would have helped,” he said.

“Well, that’s OK,” my friend replied. “Next time, you will.”

I will never forget this story. I still wonder: if my friend hadn’t offered to help, how would that decision have affected this young man’s life?

In His message known as the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus offered these words to the thousands who had gathered to listen:

“You have heard the law that says, ‘Love your neighbor’ and hate your enemy. But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:43-45, NLT)

This is not easy to do on a good day, much less when we have been wronged. But we have Good News to share with a lost world. If we respond as the world would respond, we surrender our influence and squander an opportunity to put the goodness of God on display.

If you’ve been to a major sporting event or concert, you’ve encountered them. They are often holding large posters, wearing sandwich board signs, and almost always projecting their message through the famed bullhorn. They’re the so-called “hellfire and brimstone” evangelists.

Admittedly, I get upset each time I encounter them. Wrong message, wrong tactics. Am I disputing that sinners should repent and give their lives to the Lord? No! But instead of yelling that people are going to hell and centering their narrative around fear, perhaps they could examine the Scriptures and see how Jesus spoke to crowds.

These folks focus on shame. Jesus focused on forgiveness.
They speak with contempt. Jesus spoke with love.
They cast judgment. Jesus offered redemption.
They make assertions and blanket statements. Jesus asked questions.
They push people away. Jesus invited people in.

Whether or not you carry a bullhorn, you still share a message with everyone you encounter about who Jesus is to you—through your work ethic, how you speak to others, how you serve others, whether you are kind and considerate, how you drive in traffic, and even how far you’re willing to go to win a game. Whether you realize it or not, you are constantly communicating something to the people in your sphere of influence! What do you want to tell them about who Jesus is through your words and behavior?

Peter tells us we need to live our lives in such a way that people notice a difference (for the good) and may ask us about the joy and hope they see in our lives. When this door opens, we need to be ready (and eager) to share who Christ is and what He has done!

Are you living in such a way that someone would ask you that question? If not, you’ve got some self-examination and reflection ahead of you. If so, spend time thinking and praying about how you’ll respond when that day comes. People who aren’t believers don’t think and act like believers, so heed Peter’s words: be gentle and respectful. The only time they might see Jesus is through you!

When I read Peter’s letters, this thought occasionally occurs to me: “He makes it sound so easy!”

The phrase “fear not” appears more than 70 times in Scripture, with the words “fear” or “afraid” appearing more than 200 times. This apparently was—and continues to be—a topic that bears repeating for all of us. We need constant reminders that our enemy is at work to discourage us, but that we have no true reason to fear when we are living in fellowship with the Lord.

In Peter’s first letter, he implores early Christians under persecution to continue to fight the good fight, do good amid suffering, and remember Christ in everything. But even when we persevere and put on our game face, worry can creep in—especially when your life is being threatened for your faith!

In America, we rarely, if ever, face the type of persecution these early believers suffered. But we still face threats—very real ones. And it’s so easy to focus on the “what ifs” and prematurely fill in the blanks on a story God hasn’t finished yet, instead of fixing our gaze on Jesus—the One who holds us in His hands.

The Apostle Paul wrote several letters to early churches to remind them who they were in Christ. In Philippians, he encouraged believers to combat worry through prayer:

“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank Him for all He has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7, NLT)

While it makes perfect sense to PRAY instead of WORRYING, it’s tough to let go of worry altogether. Perhaps that’s why Peter offers us another antidote to worry and fear: he tells us to WORSHIP Christ instead of focusing on the threats against us. When Christ becomes the object of our affection and attention, worry, doubt, anxiety, and fear begin to fade away. By baring our soul to the Lord through worship, we lay our problems at His feet and surrender control to Him. This breaks the chains of discouragement and gives us freedom from the emotional prison we’ve been locked in!

Have you ever read the story of Joseph in Genesis? If not, perhaps you’ve seen the Broadway musical Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. If you’re not familiar with this epic story, it’s worth your time to read Genesis 37-50.

In a nutshell, Joseph was the favored son of Jacob (whom God renamed Israel after Jacob wrestled with Him all night and didn’t relent). Joseph had 11 brothers, 10 of whom were older than him—and nine of those brothers made the decision to sell Joseph to foreigners as a slave. They then told Jacob that Joseph had been mauled by a wild animal.

Meanwhile, Joseph was sold to Potiphar, the captain of the Egyptian guard. Joseph served Potiphar well and honored the Lord in how he handled his responsibilities. As a result, Potiphar’s household thrived—that is, until Potiphar’s wife began to lust after Joseph. He refused her numerous advances, and she became so offended that she accused him of raping her. Potiphar threw Joseph in prison, where he remained for years.

Yet the Lord was with Joseph in prison. He was a model inmate, and because of God’s favor, the prison warden came to fully trust Joseph and ultimately put him in charge of all the prisoners. There, Joseph met two men who were also imprisoned: one was Pharaoh’s cupbearer, and the other was the chief baker. Both had dreams and needed help understanding their meanings. Joseph interpreted their dreams and asked them to remember him when they were released. They didn’t—at least, not for two years, until Pharaoh himself began having dreams that no one could interpret.

To make a long story short, Joseph interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams, became second in command over all of Egypt, saved the country (and perhaps the world) from a seven-year famine, and increased Egypt’s wealth. Among those he saved were his brothers—the very ones who had sold him into slavery 13 years earlier! The brothers didn’t recognize Joseph when they came to buy grain, but he remembered them. Eventually, Joseph revealed his identity to them, and they were terrified for their lives. They schemed and manipulated some details for self-preservation, but Joseph responded with kindness and grace:

“Don’t be afraid of me. Am I God, that I can punish you? You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good. He brought me to this position so I could save the lives of many people.” (Genesis 50:19-20, NLT)

What’s the lesson? Keep doing good. Keep honoring the Lord, no matter what harm others may try to do to you, and regardless of your circumstances. In the end, trust that God is working all things for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28).

God meant it for good with Joseph, and it’s the same for you and me when we honor Him with our words and actions.