I Talked With a Man Named Stephen
By: Melissa Heller-Rector
As we approached the large structure, I got increasingly nervous. My thoughts were scattered, but I returned to the overwhelming feeling that we should NOT be at this place. We were in a foreign country, did not speak the language, had no form of protection, and were in danger. When we entered the Men’s Prison in Gulu, Uganda, I could barely breathe. But I followed the rest of the team. Once we were inside the gates, many of our team members suited up to play a game of soccer with the prison team – which is one of the platforms used in Uganda to minister to the people.
Since I hadn’t done anything that athletic in QUITE some time, I decided it might be best for me to just take a seat along the concrete benches surrounding the courtyard and watch the game. But that was not God’s plan. So I stood, alone, and a bit confused. “What am I supposed to do, God?”
Now let me stop here and say that I have SEEN God work in my life many times. I have HEARD from God, clearly, on very few occasions. So, I was a bit surprised when I immediately HEARD from God as I asked that question. I was to take a seat next to one of the prisoners and start talking. Are you kidding me??? A middle-aged, white woman, in a sea of foreign black men, who were in prison for SOMETHING – what crime, I didn’t know…I mean they could have raped and killed a woman like me just last week, and you want me to go and talk to them? This is the question I had for God – and He didn’t give me any other answer.
So – I went and sat.
I talked with a man named Stephen. He had been in prison for four months for a civil crime of taking money from a project he was overseeing. He spoke brilliant English, and knew more about the Bible than I could dream of knowing. In the first few minutes of sitting next to this man, I knew that God had brought me around the world for this very encounter. Even thinking about the 30-minute conversation makes me very emotional.
A little back story: When I was five, I was molested by two men. That event shaped the way I thought about men, sex, approval, acceptance, and love, for a very long time. When I was told at a young age that this sort of attack is okay, that I deserved it, that it is the only way I would be loved – well, it completely destroyed any sense of self-worth I had. This one event led to many years of sexual sin, drug abuse, addiction to alcohol, prostituting myself for drugs, using abortion as a birth control method, and generally seeking approval and acceptance in destructive ways. Admittedly, I have carried a great deal of shame and guilt as a result of my past.
Now back to Stephen. We talked for a while, and then he asked me if I knew the story of John 8. I opened my Bible to the book and chapter, and started to recall the story of the adulteress woman who was brought before Jesus to be judged. God whispered in my ear to be quiet and listen to Stephen recount the story – so I listened. At the end, he asked me a question I had never thought about before. He wanted to know exactly what Jesus had written in the sand when he was talking to the town’s people. I searched the scripture…but couldn't find the answer. Stephen smiled and said, “child, that IS the answer.” I didn't understand.
You see – if it has been important to know what Jesus was writing in the sand, the scripture would spell it out for us. All the researchers who have spent many words debating what He was writing wouldn't have wasted their time. The point here is that the act of Jesus kneeling to write in the sand took the attention away from the woman!!! There she was, likely naked, having been caught “in the act”, completely ashamed, mortified and embarrassed. Everyone around her was asking for Jesus to judge her, as they already had. But instead, Jesus “bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger.” He knew this act would divert the crowd’s attention from the woman to what he was “writing” in the sand.
Jesus does this for each of us – he stands in front of our shame, he diverts attention from our sin, and doesn’t judge us. This is the message of The Cross.
Although I had been taught for a long time to “just turn over your guilt and shame to God,” I would turn over my guilt and shame, and then take it back and wallow in it some and then give it over again, and then take it back. God arranged this unique experience for me. He knows that I am broken, and will willingly take the guilt and shame back from Him to wrestle with at night. But He also knew that hearing that story from His Word out of the mouth of a man in prison in Uganda would allow me to completely give over the shame and guilt I have been carrying with me for many, many years. My prayer is that this experience I had will somehow translate into your life; that you can find peace in knowing that Jesus took The Cross so we don’t have to feel like that shamed, five year old girl, or the adulteress woman in John 8. Jesus didn’t judge either of them.
