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HE STOOPED DOWN

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International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Mar 18, 1889

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 15, No. 11.

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HE STOOPED DOWN.

By Fannie Bolton

BY FANNIE BOLTON.
THEY brought the guilty woman, red with shame, Before the pitying Lord. With bitter blame The Pharisees accused her, and with hate They thrust her in his sight compassionate, Surrounding him and her. Not so much To have her guilt rebuked they gave the touch, As to entangle Jesus, that pure One, Adored of Heaven, and God's beloved Son, Who had been tempted in all points as we, And yet withstood in his integrity.
"Master, behold this woman. Mark her guilt, And render such a judgment as thou wilt. Moses commanded that this crime should be Punished with death; but we would hear from thee. What sayest thou?" His glance, a piercing dart, Read all the guilty secrets of each heart, Their eyes, sin-blind, no mark of shame could show, They felt no pity for the sinner's woe, Because they knew no penitence for sin. There burned a deep and cruel fire within. Beneath the righteous wrath, they claimed they felt, A serpent hatred ever poisonous dwelt, Waiting for opportunity to sting With murderous fangs high Heaven's glorious King.
Jesus beheld the woman with moist gaze, And saw the circumstances of her days; How dark had been the pathways of her feet. To-day the first awakening hope would beat, The light shine in her darkness. Even now, The sorrow for her sin was on her brow.
Then Jesus spoke, "Let him, and him alone, That hath no sin cast on her the first stone." And stooping down he wrote with outstretched hand The deeds of each man's life upon the sand. With eyes dilated they beheld him write Their secret sins. Filled with dismay and fright, Beginning at the eldest, one by one They turned away condemned; till he, alone, Stood with the woman, where she bowed her head, And her poor heart with deep repentance bled.
What pity reached her! Oh! through all her years No one had melted her hard heart to tears. No one before had touched the secret key And opened up life's possibility. With sudden, eager hope and pain, she stood, And recognized the beauty of the good, And cried within. He heard. He knew. She felt His love's compassion, as she weeping knelt.
"Where are they thine accusers?" Self-accused They'd turned from him and her they had abused. "Hath none condemned thee?" "No, my Lord, not one. I'm left for thee to deal with me alone."
Oh! happy heart that stands with him alone, Repenting. He'll not bruise it with a stone. He'll break no reed, nor quench the faint desire, His pitying sinlessness will fan the fire. None gave her hope of better life before. "Neither do I condemn thee. Sin no more," Spake the Divine One, and her heart, oppressed, Found in his words the blessedness of rest, And evermore, when sin assailed her sore, She heard his message, "Go and sin no more." Her soul was set to copy that great Lord Who'd saved her by his love's compassionate word.
And now, is there no lesson in this scene? How often do we hear of others' sin! How often with accusing word there comes The slanderer and the vulture to our homes! But shall we not before we give the frown Of condemnation, silently stoop down And write, not others' fault and sin, But all the crimes and failure that hath been In our own lives, and then, with tears we'll say, I too am guilty, let us kneel and pray And sin no more; and to the heart oppressed Reveal the Saviour, who can give sweet rest, And power to live like him, amid the blight That falls on all men, save the sons of right. Oh! let us follow him, and when men frown, Condemning others, let us low stoop down.