Throwing Stones

Throwing Stones
by: R.A. Slater
4/22/2012

I lay here in a heap
Huddling on the ground
My clothes barely covering me
They dragged me here that quickly
Standing there wrapped in their Law
That has no mercy for one such as me
Stones they hold in each hand
Waiting the word to throw
Why have they turned on me now?
They who were all too eager
To pay me for my services before
Where is the pharisee I was with
When through the door they did burst
But on the fringe
Stones in his hands as well
They are all silent as they speak to Another
Asking what He thought should be done with me
I looked out through hanging strands of hair
And see a Man stooped down
As though drawing in the sand
For one split second His eyes meet mine
And I am lost in that gaze
There is no judging or hatred
Nor contempt for my kind
Only the purest love I've ever seen
Kindness and gentleness and hope
He rises and speaks to those who would test
And challenges them
Only one who has never sinned
May cast a stone at me
Knowing them I cringe
Waiting for the first blow
But it does not come
I hear soft thuds on the ground
And open my eyes to see
Judgement turned within
And the subject found wanting
One by one, then in groups
They all walk away
Except those behind this Man
I rise to my feet in the emptiness
And then He speaks to me
"Where are you accusers? Is there any left to condemn you?"
For a moment I cannot speak
Such respect I've never heard
Words spoken to me as though I were an equal
I manage to answer that there was no one left
He nods His head and told me He wouldn't either
Go, He said, and sin no more
Numbly I nod, knowing that my customers will be back
Wondering how I could sin no more
With pharisees such as these
Thinking He asks too much
I being to walk away
Knowing I need more clothes
When I hear Him say to those following Him
"I am the light of the world..."
And then I know what I can do
I can follow Him too
There are women in this group
Who come to no harm
And are not abused
Respected they are, and taken care of
My walk breaks into a run
There are thing to be done
And then I'll be back
Knowing that if He didn't judge me
Then neither would the rest
Indeed, while I was gathering my clothes
There is a quiet knock on my broken door
I turn to see a group of them
Woman well dressed and smiling
These few didn't look down their noses
And I knew I was free