2169 Here’s the Line

Is there something from your past holding you back? It could be 50 years ago, or 5 days ago. Regardless, past regrets, guilt, and shame have a way of holding on to us. We replay the stories we have no way of changing because what is done is done. You can’t go back. You can’t undo it. So, what do you do? Too many of us are serving life sentences for sins Jesus already died for. We keep dragging yesterday into today and wondering why it’s so hard to move forward. We allow our worst moments to become our identity. We introduce ourselves to God with our failures, while He calls us by our name. Maybe you wish you had made different choices. Maybe you stayed too long, left too soon, trusted the wrong person, or became someone you’re not proud of. Maybe you did things that still haunt you. Or maybe things were done to you that have created a deep shame. Maybe you’ve asked God to forgive you a thousand times, but you’ve never forgiven yourself. You’ve accepted His grace for everyone else while withholding it from yourself. Regret has a way of convincing us that our past gets the final word. Shame whispers, “This changes everything.” But grace declares, “No, Jesus does.” Once, there was a woman caught in a shameful act of sin and brought before a crowd for Jesus to judge. Now imagine that for a moment. You know what you did, but imagine standing before a crowd with your sin announced and Jesus looking right at you. You have no excuse. No justification. It’s just the truth of what you’ve done as your full identity. What would Jesus say to you? You don’t have to guess. What He said to one daughter about her guilt and shame is what He says to every daughter about her guilt and shame. Hear Jesus today. John 8: 2-11, “At dawn Jesus appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, ‘Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?’ They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him. But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, ‘Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.’ Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground. At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, which with the woman still standing there. Jesus straightened up and asked her, ‘Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?’ ‘No one, sir’,’ she said. ‘THEN NEITHER DO I CONDEMN YOU.’ Jesus declared. ‘GO NOW AND LEAVE YOUR LIFE OF SIN.’ How incredibly remarkable. Jesus didn’t turn away. He didn’t shame her. There was no condemnation in the presence of Jesus—not by Him or anyone else. And don’t miss this. Jesus knew everything. He knew the details no one else knew. He knew every choice that led her there. He knew the things she was ashamed to say out loud. There were no secrets remaining before Him. Yet Jesus did not condemn her. Instead, He invited her to leave it all right there and walk away without that burden. Without that secret. Without that regret. Without that shame. A woman set free from the very mess she had created. A woman given a new life as fully forgiven. And that is you. How do I know that’s you? Because not a single one of us is without sin. No one has gotten this all right. We’ve all failed and fallen short. Every single one of us deserves condemnation, but praise God, we don’t receive what we deserve. We receive what Jesus purchased for us instead. There are two things Jesus says to this woman, and I believe we often embrace one while completely missing the other. First, He says, “Neither do I condemn you.” We love that part. We underline it in our Bibles. We thank Him for it. But then we spend the rest of our lives condemning ourselves. Isn’t that strange? Jesus releases us while we keep ourselves imprisoned. Jesus says, “I don’t condemn you.” And we reply, “Thank you, Jesus, but I do.” He says, “You’re forgiven.” We say, “Yes, but I’m ashamed.” He says, “I’ve removed your sin.” We say, “Yes, but I still carry it.” Can I lovingly tell you something? It is not humility to carry what Jesus died to remove. Some of us have made self-punishment our penance. We secretly belie