Grace Across Borders: Biblical Lessons and Global Legends

Hi, I’m Tameka, and welcome to Grace Across Borders, where we discover that God’s grace knows no borders.

As I sat down to write this week’s reflection, I was convinced I already knew what God wanted me to share.

While traveling, my daughter became ill, and we found ourselves in the emergency room. There, I watched two nurses respond to the same situation in two completely different ways. One interaction left me deeply troubled. The other reminded me what compassion truly looks like. I was certain that experience would become this week’s blog.

But God had another lesson waiting for me.

The very next day, I had the privilege of teaching a group of teenagers at Vacation Bible School. Our lesson came from John 8:3–12, where Jesus declared, “I am the Light of the World.” As we worked through the passage together, one simple question changed the direction of our discussion.

“Where was the man?”

It wasn’t a question meant to excuse the woman’s sin.

It was a question about accountability.

Scripture

John 8:3–12

The scribes and Pharisees dragged before Jesus a woman caught in adultery and demanded to know what should be done with her. According to the Law of Moses, they said she deserved to be stoned.

For years, whenever I read this passage, I assumed the woman was standing there simply because she had committed adultery.

This time, I noticed something different.

John tells us they weren’t really interested in her.

They were interested in Jesus.

They were looking for a reason to accuse Him.

The woman was guilty.

But she had also become a pawn in someone else’s agenda.

Jesus refused to play their game.

Instead, He stooped down and wrote on the ground.

Then He stood and said,

“He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.”

One by one, the stones fell.

One by one, the accusers walked away.

Finally, Jesus looked at the woman and said,

“Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.”

Notice what Jesus did not do.

He did not declare her innocent.

He did not pretend sin no longer mattered.

He extended grace.

He called her to accountability.

That is the beauty of the gospel.

Jesus never asks us to choose between grace and accountability.

He offers both.

Folklore

There is an old Jamaican tale about Anansi and a farmer whose mango tree was heavy with ripe fruit.

One day, Anansi convinced a few friends to help him gather “just a few” mangoes.

Together they climbed the tree.

Together they picked the fruit.

Together they laughed as they filled their baskets.

Then someone shouted,

“The farmer a come!”

Everyone ran.

Everyone…

…everyone except Anansi.

Greedy as ever, Anansi couldn’t bear to leave even one mango behind. While everyone else escaped, he stayed behind trying to gather every last fruit.

By the time he looked up, the farmer was standing over him.

For weeks, the village talked about Anansi, the mango thief.

Few remembered that others had climbed the tree.

Few remembered that others had eaten the mangoes.

Few remembered that others had run away.

Anansi became the face of the crime, while everyone else disappeared into the crowd.

Reflection

As I reflected on the lesson afterward, I couldn’t help but smile.

If I’m being honest, I walked away feeling like I hadn’t been fully present with my own students.

Before class even began, my mind was occupied with something else. I kept wondering how the lesson on the woman caught in adultery was being taught to the younger children in the other Vacation Bible School classes. I was so concerned that the subject might be too grown for them that I wasn’t fully engaged with the teenagers God had entrusted to me.

After the classes ended, I heard how the lesson had been taught to the younger children.

It was beautiful.

Simple.

Age-appropriate.

Completely centered on Jesus.

In that moment, it was as though the Holy Spirit gently whispered,

“See… I’ve got this.”

God didn’t need me worrying about another classroom.

He simply needed me to be faithful in the one He had entrusted to me.

And isn’t that just like Him?

Sometimes we’re so busy carrying burdens He never asked us to carry that we almost miss the lesson He’s trying to teach us ourselves.

The next morning, I woke up around 4:00 a.m.

Sleep escaped me, but the Holy Spirit did not.

As I lay there in the quiet of the morning, God began unfolding the lesson He had been teaching me all along.

One question kept echoing in my mind.

“Where was the man?”

At first, my mind wandered to other examples of selective accountability. I thought about how, when a woman becomes pregnant, people are often quick to ask, “Are you getting married?” Yet far less often do they ask the father the same question or hold him to the same standard.

But the Holy Spirit wouldn’t let me stay there.

This wasn’t meant to become a discussion about men versus women.

It was something much deeper.

God was inviting me back to John 8—not to search for another person to blame, but to discover what Jesus was trying to reveal in every heart standing in that courtyard… including mine.

As I reflected on both the Scripture and Anansi’s story, I noticed a striking similarity.

Anansi was guilty.

The woman was guilty.

But neither story was really about guilt.

They were about who carried the blame.

In both stories, one person became the face of the wrongdoing while everyone else’s involvement quietly faded into the background.

Justice seeks the whole truth.

Selective accountability settles for a convenient target.

Please don’t misunderstand me.

This reflection isn’t about finding the man.

It isn’t about searching for someone else to blame.

If we leave John 8 looking for another guilty person, we’ve completely missed what Jesus was doing.

The crowd wanted someone to condemn.

Jesus wanted everyone to examine themselves.

The crowd practiced selective accountability.

Jesus practiced perfect justice wrapped in perfect grace.

It is easy to become the person holding the stone while convincing ourselves we’re simply defending what is right.

But Jesus reminds us that before we point at someone else’s failure, we should first allow His light to examine our own hearts.

That stopped me.

Because if I’m honest, sometimes it’s easier to recognize what needs changing in someone else than it is to recognize what needs changing in me.

Left to ourselves, we don’t always see ourselves clearly.

We cannot transform a heart we cannot fully see.

That is why we need Jesus.

The Light of the World doesn’t simply expose the darkness around us.

He shines His light into the darkness within us.

He reveals the pride we’ve excused.

The bitterness we’ve protected.

The unforgiveness we’ve justified.

The self-righteousness we’ve mistaken for holiness.

Then, in His grace, He invites us to change.

Not because He wants to shame us.

But because He loves us too much to leave us where we are.

The question isn’t simply,

“Where was the man?”

The deeper question is,

“Am I judging fairly, or am I only holding accountable the person I’ve already decided to blame?”

And perhaps the deepest question of all is this:

“Am I moving toward the Light… or am I drifting toward the darkness?”

Every day we move in one direction or the other.

There is no standing still.

The enemy is real.

Sin is real.

Heaven is real.

Hell is real.

Eternity is real.

Those truths aren’t given to rob us of hope.

They’re given to awaken us.

The enemy would love nothing more than for us to believe that sin has no consequences, that tomorrow is guaranteed, and that eternity can wait.

Jesus lovingly tells us otherwise.

He warned about judgment because He loves us.

He stretched out His hands on the cross because He doesn’t want anyone to perish.

That is why I’m writing this today.

Not because I want anyone to live in fear.

But because I don’t want anyone to be lost.

The Light of the World didn’t come merely to expose our darkness.

He came to lead us out of it.

So today, don’t just ask,

“Where was the man?”

Ask instead,

“Lord, what in me still needs Your light?”

Then have the courage to walk toward it.

While His invitation still stands.

Prayer

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for Your grace and for loving us enough to hold us accountable. Thank You for shining Your light into the places of our hearts that we cannot see on our own.

Forgive us for the times we’ve been quick to judge others while overlooking what You want to change in us. Help us to put down our stones before we pick them up.

Lord, remind us that the enemy is real, sin is real, and eternity is real. Never let us become so comfortable with this world that we forget the world to come. Keep us close to You, walking daily in Your light and trusting Your truth.

If there is anything in us that does not reflect You, reveal it. Give us the courage to repent, the humility to change, and the faith to follow wherever You lead.

And if anyone reading this has not yet chosen to walk with You, may today be the day they step out of darkness and into the marvelous light of Jesus Christ.

In His precious name we pray,

Amen.

My heart broke knowing I’ll never have another Mother’s Day with Bro. Pusey pinning a rose to my dress as I walked into church. Such a simple act, yet one I’ll always cherish. 🌹

To the Pusey family, my heartfelt condolences. Praying that God surrounds you with His comfort, peace, and strength in the days ahead.

Rest well, Bro. Pusey. You will be deeply missed.

Happy Birthday to all the ladies celebrating this month, especially Sis V, who celebrates today❤️ To everyone celebrating this month, may God richly bless you.