What Jesus Wrote In The Dirt

The Untold Story Of John 8

First, I need to tell you that this part of the scripture is actually NOT in the original text but was added by a scribe around 350 a.d. and so is unauthorized by God.

Take a look at John 8. Here we are, at a moment where the religious authorities are trying to trap Jesus, trying to make Him choose between two impossible options. It’s early in the morning, and Jesus is teaching in the temple courts, surrounded by people who are eager to hear what He has to say. Then, the Pharisees and scribes bring a woman caught in adultery and place her in front of Him (note they did not bring the man). They quote the Law, telling Jesus that the Law of Moses commands that she be stoned to death. There’s no question of her guilt—she was caught in the act. The Law is clear.  But... notice they did not bring the man for judgment!

But here’s the thing: the Pharisees and scribes aren’t really concerned with justice. They’re concerned with trapping Jesus. If He says, “Let her go,” they’ll accuse Him of breaking the Law. If He says, “Stone her,” then He risks alienating Himself from the Roman authorities, who had the power to execute capital punishment. So, they put Him in a corner.

But Jesus doesn’t react the way they expect. Instead of immediately answering, He bends down and begins writing in the dust with His finger. What does He write? That’s the question that has haunted readers for centuries, and the truth is, we simply don’t know. The Greek text doesn’t tell us, and I think the silence around this act is significant. Jesus doesn’t answer their question right away; He does something that seems like a diversion, but perhaps in that very act, He’s doing something far more profound.

Jesus bends down and writes in the dirt. This action by itself speaks volumes. The phrase “writing in the dirt” in Greek is γράφει (graphe). It’s simple—just a verb for writing. But this action isn’t just random or without meaning. The finger of God is what we encounter here. In Exodus 31:18, it’s the “finger of God” that writes the Law on the tablets given to Moses. Jesus, the Son of God, is the One who gave the Law in the first place. And now, here He is, bending down to write in the dirt. By doing this, Jesus is doing something deeply symbolic. He is demonstrating His divine authority, the One who wrote the Law now writing in the dust.

But there’s also something else going on. Dust, in the Bible, represents human frailty and imperfection. We’re reminded of this in Genesis 2:7, where God forms Adam from the χωμα (chōma), the dust of the earth. We are dust, fragile, mortal. So, when Jesus writes in the dust, He’s engaging with our very humanity. He’s reminding the accusers, and the woman herself, that all of us are dust—we are imperfect, we are sinful. It’s as if Jesus, in this simple act, is telling them, “You all have your own imperfections, your own failings. You think you’re standing on solid ground, but you’re just dust.”

But the Pharisees aren’t satisfied with His silence. They actually didn't even notice. Not really... They press Him further, asking again, “What do you say?” They want a clear answer. And Jesus, without missing a beat, stands up and speaks one of the most profound lines in Scripture: “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” Now, the Greek for “without sin” is ἀναμαρτητος (anamartētos), which means “without sin,” “without fault.” This word carries the sense of someone who is free from sin, whose heart is perfectly pure and without blemish.

Jesus isn’t just giving a casual comment here; He’s saying something radical. He’s challenging the entire premise of their judgment. The accusers are quick to point out the woman’s sin, but Jesus flips the situation. He doesn’t deny her sin, but He forces them to look inward, to examine their own hearts. “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.” This is not just a challenge; it’s a call to humility. How many times do we rush to point out the sins of others without considering our own? Jesus is turning the tables. He’s showing that no one has the moral high ground to pass judgment unless they themselves are blameless, and no one is.

When He speaks these words, something happens. The crowd, the accusers, they begin to leave. John writes that it begins with the πρεσβύτεροι (presbyteroi), the older ones, those who perhaps had lived long enough to recognize their own failings. The older ones are the first to leave, followed by the younger ones. And in the end, there is no one left except Jesus and the woman.

The moment is breathtaking. Here she is, the one who was caught in adultery, the one who was guilty by the Law’s standard, standing alone with Jesus. Everyone else has left. The stones they were ready to cast are now lying on the ground, abandoned. It’s just her and Him.

Jesus stands up and looks at her. He asks, “Where are they? Has no one condemned you?” The word κατακρίνω (katakrinō) is used here, meaning to judge or condemn down upon. It’s the legal word for passing sentence. Jesus asks her, “Where are the accusers? Who is left to condemn you?” And she replies, “No one, Lord.”

It’s here that we encounter one of the most beautiful moments in all of Scripture. Jesus, the only One who has the right to condemn her, doesn’t. “Neither do I condemn you,” He says. The Greek οὐδὲ ἐγὼ κατακρίνω σε (oude egō katakrinō se) expresses the strength of this declaration. Jesus doesn’t simply forgive her with a casual word. He chooses not to condemn her.

This is radical grace. Jesus doesn’t say, “It’s okay, what you did doesn’t matter.” He doesn’t overlook her sin. He says, “I don’t condemn you,” and then, He calls her to something greater—“Go, and from now on sin no more.” The phrase μὴ ἁμάρτανε (mē hamartane) is a direct call to repentance, a command to leave behind her sinful life. Jesus doesn’t offer cheap grace. He offers grace that leads to transformation. “Go,” He says, “and from now on, don’t sin.”

This is the fullness of the gospel. Jesus offers forgiveness and mercy, but He also calls us to repentance. He offers us grace, but He doesn’t leave us where we are. He calls us to something higher, to a life that reflects His love and truth.

What Jesus wrote in the dirt remains a mystery, but what He said to the woman is clear. He didn’t come to condemn the world but to save it. He didn’t come to heap guilt on those already burdened with it, but to lift them up. And in this moment, Jesus shows us the true heart of God—not a heart that is quick to condemn, but one that desires transformation through mercy and grace.

In the end, the dirt, the dust, it all reminds us of our fragility, our imperfection. And yet, Jesus, with His finger in the dirt, offers us grace. The stones we’ve held in our hands to judge others are dropped, and in their place, Jesus offers us forgiveness and a call to live differently. The Gospel isn’t just about forgiveness; it’s about transformation. And in that transformation, we find the heart of God—gracious, merciful, and calling us to a new way of life.

 

 

Image is done by chatgpt at my description.