Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: No Condemnation in Christ (07/16/26)
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TITLE: Thud | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
07/18/26 -
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The blazing sun cast shadows of the dozen robed figures over her like an inescapable net. Shame smothered her soul, stole her breath, and quickened her heartbeat. How could she have been so foolish, so impetuous, so desperate? She had earned the condemnation, the whipping, the bleeding hands from being thrown down into the temple dust.
The first time she sold herself had ripped her apart inside. Her brother, Isaac, lay by the pool of Bethesda, desperate for help, hungry, needy. She had nothing to support him. Tears burned as she watched his lips crack, his begging hand droop, and his eyes close.
The touch on her shoulder made her jump. A woman crouched, her whisper faint. “You have something more than you think. Your brother needs you more than ever.”
Rebekah hung her head. “I have nothing left. The doctors have taken it all.”
“There are men willing to help you, if you are willing to help them find comfort.”
“What are you saying?”
The woman leaned closer. “I have a room. Men come. They pay. It helps me care for my relative.”
Rebekah recoiled and shuddered. “Never! I could never do such a thing.”
“You might be surprised what you can do when there is nothing else left to do.”
It took two days and nights of listening to her brother’s moaning to change everything. She followed the woman- fearful, uncertain, nauseated. The lesson had been quick. The violations had been harsh, painful, and mind-numbing. The money had been enough.
It wasn’t better the second day, or the third. Her new friend made it easier. Encouraging, sharing ideas, finding the men.
And then, this morning had come. The robed figures had torn aside the curtains, stripped her of any dignity, and crushed her under the weight of their condemning accusations. “Whore! Spawn of Belzubul! Daughter of Jezebel! The law of Moses will have its day with you.”
They’d dragged her, bare-footed, scraping her toes across rough stones. Clutching her garment close had little impact in protecting her from the lewd comments, the kicks, the spitting, the painful tugs at her hair. Fear strangled. Her sin would be exposed before everyone. There would be no mercy. No grace. How could she have failed so badly?
Images of little Isaac flashed across her mind. Chasing pigeons around the family home, struggling through the fever that took both parents, crying through the night when there was no more bread. Still, he had fought to thrive until the day he was run over by a centurion’s horse. Now, he lay by the pool, helpless, needing her more than ever.
The sandaled feet before her face didn’t recoil or kick. Thundering voices hurled their accusations. The shackles of shame bit so deep the bruises on her body hardly registered in her mind. The murmur of voices grew with the crowd eager for justice.
“Teacher! We caught this woman in the act of adultery. The Law of Moses commands us to stone her.”
The words struck harder than any stone as she shuddered and trembled. What fate had she called on herself? Where was Ha’Shem in this holy place? Rebekah waited, jaw clenched, fists tightened, shoulders hunched. Nothing but silence. She dared open her eyes. The teacher knelt and wrote in the dust. The crowd quieted more.
The teacher spoke firmly. “Let the one who is without sin be the first to throw his stone.”
Rebekah sucked in a breath, and prepared for pain as she watched his fingers forming words in the dust. The courtyard stilled. And then, the unexpected sound. Stones being dropped. Thud. Thud. Thud. She risked a glance. Two older men in robes shuffled away. Another figure followed. Thud. Thud.
The final shuffling faded as the crowd stood speechless. Her shame had somehow been cast on her accusers. The teacher waited until she could see into his compassionate eyes. “Is there no one who condemns you?”
Her throat tightened. “No one.”
“Neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more.”
Mercy and grace broke her inside. Somehow, they had triumphed over justice. The teacher raised Rebekah as she trembled. Never again would she defile herself.
A year later, she stood with Isaac by a cross. The thud of a hammer on nails brought back memories. "Neither do I condemn you." Only one could declare that without judgment.
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Circling back to the "thud" of the stones and then connecting it to the "thud" of the hammer at the crucifixion creates a beautiful, poetic structure.