The Adulteress (A Short Story)

I am awakened by loud banging and shouts outside the door. I am momentarily confused until I see Shimei hurriedly putting his clothes on, his eyes wild with fear.

“They are here! We are caught!! Oh, may YHWH have mercy, we are going to die today! They will kill us both!” he sputters. He stumbles over his clothing as the shouts grow louder and the banging fiercer. My mind is still dulled by sleep, my body too shocked to make a move to get up from bed and get dressed.

The door crashes open and I see a group of men rushing in. They seem to pass Shimei and run toward - me! One of them slaps me across my face as the other pulls my hair. The force of my hair being pulled is enough to drag me out of bed, my unclothedness apparent for all to see. I gasp in pain and taste blood on my lips.

“Cover her up,” I hear one voice say, “ At least let a bit of modesty be preserved before we stone her.”

“Why cover the harlot up?” another cruel voice that I recognize as Yohanaytan, my elder brother, hisses. “She has brought shame upon us all and should die like a dog, in shame!”

I use the opportunity to pull the sheet around me loosely. I look around for Shimei. He must have used the ensuing chaos to flee and preserve himself. Just like everyone in my life. So much for love and standing beside me through thick and thin! A smile curves on my lips and a small humourless chuckle escapes before I have time to stop it. Another slap cracks across my face. This time I cannot stop the quick tears that come to my eyes as a result of the pain.

“Shameless baggage!!You even dare to smile and laugh over your sin?” my other brother, Binyamin spits. “You are nothing but a harlot. A LovePeddler! You have been so from the day of your conception and you will die as one!”

I am dragged out from the room, through the house and thrown out on the street. I barely have time to recover when I am dragged to my feet, beaten mercilessly as I am shoved and pushed forward.

The crowd slowly swells as other men, full of righteous indignation, join the ranks of my accusers. Women look out of their windows, pointing fingers at me and cursing. I can hear some of them jeering.

“Where is your beauty now, harlot?” “Shameless woman! Be grateful you are barren, for YHWH has spared your children the shame of having a mother such as you!” and the shouts went on.

I fall down again and feel a kick in my side. I push myself up only to be slapped and punched again. I feel my right eye swelling. The physical pain is overwhelming but it is the pain in my heart that threatens to undo me. I remember my life: the misery, the betrayal and pain I have had to endure over and over again. I remember.

I was cursed with beauty. It was my burden. I have raven black hair, wavy and abundant. I also have almond shaped green eyes, with luxuriant black lashes and a full red mouth. I was born to seduce and tempt. Or at least that is what I have been told from the moment I was 12 years old. I remember my father, a high ranking member of the Sanhedrin, being told by his friends, “You had better marry that one off quickly before she tempts a fine young man into sin.” I didn’t even know what sin they were talking about. Then.

My brother’s friends and even my father’s friends gazed at me with lust from the time I was 14 years old. That made my brothers seethe with rage and my sisters to boil with jealousy. I tried to be modest, following all Jewish customs to remain proper and decent but to no avail. Short of covering my face entirely, there was nothing I could do. At 15, I was married off to Barzillai, a man closer to my father in age than me, an upstanding member of the Sanhedrin. I didn’t like him. He looked at me like I was a piece of prized cattle, a hideous glint in his eye. I remember weeping the night before my wedding, begging my father to release me from the betrothal. That was the first and last time my father slapped me.

“You will marry him and give him many fine sons,” my father said, his eyes as cold as winter snow.

Thus, my marriage began. I could not endure Barzillai’s forced caresses. There was no love, no tenderness, only lust and anger. When he saw my lack of response, he took to beating me. Then, of course, there were no sons. Or daughters. That was all attributed to me.

“A curse on you, barren woman!” he would shout often. His whole family blamed me for my lack of children. I was distraught. I knew nothing of love. I had not received more than anger and jealousy at home so I knew nothing else. Until I met Shimei.

He was my husband’s nephew. He came to stay with us under the tutelage of Barzillai, with hopes of becoming a part of the Sanhedrin. He was tall, handsome and showed me what I thought was love. He spoke tender words to me under the moonlight in the garden when the rest of the household slept and my husband was off muttering prayers. Prayers were of no use to me. I felt YHWH had played a cruel joke on me, and then left me to my fate. I felt that all members of the Sanhedrin and indeed society in general were hypocrites – saying prayers in public and behaving no better than wild oxen in private. It wasn’t long before I let Shimei into my heart and then into my bed. I knew it wouldn’t last but I had not expected to get caught. . .

Presently, I feel myself being thrown to the ground. The crowd has swelled in size. I knew the end was coming soon. Then I heard Binyamin shout, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. In our Law, Moses commanded that such a woman must be stoned to death. Now, what do you say?”

Teacher? Oh, yes, it must be that Yeshua I had heard about. He was quite a popular character. I had seen Him briefly once, in passing. He was a rather nondescript fellow - a typical Jewish man with dark brown wavy hair, beard who had the bearing of one accustomed to manual labour. I hear His father was a carpenter. People said He performed miracles and was Wise beyond His years or experience. Well, maybe He could perform a miracle for me now and make me disappear, I thought wryly. I was determined to die with dignity, I was not ashamed. I had had a brief taste of love and if I was to be punished for that, then so be it. I lifted my chin up, determined to be proud till the end. I wasn’t afraid to die, indeed it might prove to be a sweet release for me from my miserable life. By now, my right eye had swollen shut but I looked up. My eyes met briefly with those of Yeshua and my heart stopped.

Never had anyone looked at me that way. Not with lust, or hate or jealousy. But with love and tenderness so pure it seemed otherworldly. And there was something absent in His eyes: condemnation. I felt tears spring up as inexplicable feelings coursed through my veins. I felt shame, fear at the same time. I wanted to throw myself at His Feet and beg, not for my life, but for forgiveness. He then stooped to the ground and started writing.

A twitter passed through the crowd. He was writing? On the sand? He wrote for what seemed like an eternity then he stood up. He said, so softly that if not for the deathly silence He may not have been heard.

“Whichever one of you has committed no sin may throw the first stone at her.” Then He stooped back and continued writing.

I bowed my head, expecting the first stone to come crashing down. I hoped it would be quick. I heard a dull thud as a huge rock fell next to me. Then another. Then another. Slowly, the rocks were dropped as the crowd thinned out. The last rock to fall was that Yohanayatan was holding. I looked up and saw in his eyes loathing, as he dropped his rock, turned on his heel and walked away. It was just Yeshua and I in that narrow alley. I slowly got up, every fibre in my body aching. Then Yeshua straightened up and stood. Our eyes met again and I had the overwhelming feeling that I was standing in the presence of Someone Great. I wanted to fall to my face and pay Him homage. He then said softly again, His Voice like the soft humming of the summer wind.

“Where are they? Is there no one left to condemn you?”

I shook my head and answered, “No one, Sir.”

He smiled softly and exhaled, total forgiveness in His eyes. “Well, then. I do not condemn you either. Go, but do not sin again.” And just like that I felt the burden of my past drop from me like dead weight. Not just my adultery but my pain and anguish. I felt new. I knew I had no home with Barzillai or my family but I was not panicked. I had felt the very presence of YHWH!! I felt like shouting with joy! As I gathered my wrappings around me I looked up and saw Yeshua walking away, some men joining Him. I wondered if I could follow Him. Perhaps I could for I heard there were some women in His Party, one of them Miryam of Magdala, distantly related to my side of the family.

Perhaps I could go to her