Waiting, Again
Have you ever heard the phrase, “Don’t just stand there, do something!”? It’s usually said in moments of urgency and frustration, sometimes by others to us in moments requiring action. There are times when in moments of urgency, challenge, trauma, or emergency, some of us might freeze as a response to the situation, not really knowing what to do. And so we propel ourselves into motion despite the fact that we may just be walking around in circles, moving objects from one place to the next, or doing something completely useless that will not in fact help. We tend to think that if we are moving, if we are taking action of some kind in moments of crisis that it is better than standing there or doing nothing.
Yet, there are times when the only thing we can do is stand there: “Don’t just do something, stand there.” Though the crisis will eventually require a response, we recognize that our movement or actions will not help, and that what is needed is to simply stand there, be still, and wait.
Jesus was the master of knowing when to act, when to wait, when to speak, when to be silent, when to heal, when to wait to heal, when to help others, and when to wait and allow others their own agency to ask for help or reveal their motives.
In John chapter 8 there is the story of the woman caught in the act of adultery (how she was caught raises some serious questions, and why the man she was with was not also brought to Jesus seems a direct offense at this woman). The religious leaders in bringing the woman to Jesus demand that Jesus render a verdict on the woman, which, according to the Law of Moses in the Pentateuch requires that she is killed.
So many issues are at play in this story:
How were the religious leaders going to sanction and carry out a capital punishment when they were not allowed to do so by the Roman authorities? Likely, they were hoping this would cause Jesus to be arrested and put to death by the Romans.
If Jesus disavows the crime and punishment of the woman, the religious leaders will have the justification to deny that Jesus had true religious authority because he was denying the Law of Moses.
The tension in this story is palpable. The mob seems ready to kill this woman and possibly even Jesus if he were to denounce the Law of Moses.
But Jesus, with all the wisdom of his divine nature, instead of reacting, brings the heightened emotions to a halt by bending down and silently writing in the dirt. What he writes, we don’t know. John doesn’t tell us what it was because that isn’t relevant to the story. What he wrote isn’t as important as what he doesn’t do; he doesn’t react. He doesn’t just do something as so many of us might be compelled to do. He pauses, bends down, and begins to write in the dirt.
This response only causes the religious leaders to get more impatient and demand an answer from him. Still, Jesus doesn’t react. Instead, he responds by standing up and saying the famous words, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her” (John 8:7, NIV). And then he does something astonishing: he bends back down and continues to write in the dirt.
Jesus brought the mob to a screeching halt, and without any other words or attempts to get the upper hand, the mob has no leg on which to stand, and they walk away. With one statement and no reactions, Jesus quells a vicious mob and saves a woman’s life.
I wonder how the woman would have felt during the situation. The minutes must have seemed to pass like hours while waiting for Jesus to respond. Jesus didn’t rush into the situation, stand in front of her, plead with the mob for clemency, or angrily fight back. He waited, he wrote, and he responded. He was protecting her with his response rather than his reaction, with his patience and wisdom, rather than impatience and haste. His love for her may not have seemed visible right away because he was in the process of slowing the situation down and bringing each of the leaders to their knees in an awareness of their own sin and guilt. And with that, he was able to show her mercy, grace, and encourage her own agency rather than simply rescue her.
10 Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
11 “No one, sir,” she said.
“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin” (NIV).
Rather than rescue her, he redeems her. Rather than treating her like a passive victim, he reminds her of her ability to respond, of her agency, of her person-hood. Jesus could have rescued, swooped in to defend, and then saved her from the mob. But he patiently brought all to an awareness of their sin and need for grace. And in the end, the woman learned about her own agency and free will, and her ability to leave her life of sin. Jesus empowered her and showed her the dignity that all humans deserve as people made in the image of God.
It’s a beautiful story of healing and hope for the woman, and of patience and waiting.
We learn that God may not always rescue us but instead opens the door for us to pursue him, growth, and His grace.
We learn that a delay in God’s actions do not mean He doesn’t care about us or that He is not working in our lives or situation. He is responding, rather than reacting, and His response will come at the right time.
We learn that sometimes, rather than rushing in to fix, manage, or control situations, we might need to stand there rather than do something.
In the moments of waiting, we learn that waiting is actually a way of allowing God to do something in us and in others, and that it is preparing us for what’s next.