Bryce might be more than capable of protecting Beth, but Lynn needed to see for herself if Pastor Steve would address what had happened.
Standing in the shadows, her heart began to race again, nervous energy simmering beneath the surface.
She looked around. She hated this place. This loft. But she knew from growing up in this church that it was the only place she could stay hidden and still hear everything.
If the pastor let it slide—
She shook her head, pressing two fingers to the inside of her wrist.
Count the beats. Control the breathing. Four counts in. Hold for four. Four counts out.
Reaching into her bag, Lynn pulled out her flask and poured a generous splash of clear liquid into her coffee. She took a fortifying sip.
If he stands up for Beth and actually says something…
Her thoughts trailed off, unsure of what that would mean.
So, she stayed in the shadows, listening, until Pastor Steve made eye contact with her.
Then, without a sound, she left.
No one noticed.
No one, except God.
The congregation settled, the normal sounds of greetings and rustling of bulletins quieter than usual. Maybe it was her imagination, but Beth could feel every eye flickering in her direction as she sat frozen in her chair, Bryce’s arm draped protectively over her shoulder.
Pastor Ambrose stepped up to the pulpit, his usual warmth still present, but his expression was serious. He took a long moment scanning the room before he finally spoke.
“Church, before we open our Bibles, I need to address something that happened this morning. Some of you may have witnessed it. Some of you may have heard whispers. Some of you may have been a part of it.”
His voice was even, but there was weight behind his words.
“A young woman in this congregation was publicly humiliated today within the walls of our church. Not by outsiders, not by those who don’t know Christ, but by those who claim to follow Him. She was judged, slandered, and made to feel unwelcome in her own Church family. And that is unacceptable.”
A murmur rippled through the pews, but he held up a hand, silencing it.
“I want us to turn to John 8, where Jesus encounters a woman caught in adultery. The Pharisees drag her before Him, demanding judgment, pointing fingers, ready to condemn. And what does Jesus say?”
He waited a beat before continuing, his voice softer now but still firm.
“‘Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.’”
Silence.
“Don’t misunderstand my words. I am not saying the young woman in our church is guilty of what she was accused of. Nor am I here to say that sin does not matter. Sin matters.Our choices matter. But the greatest commandment the Lord has given us is love—first God, and then our neighbor. And love does not shame. Love does not gossip. Love does not cast stones while pretending to care.”
His gaze swept across the room, landing on a few individuals who had been part of the morning’s events.
“I fear that we, as a church, have forgotten that our role is not to condemn but to restore. Galatians 6:1 tells us, ‘Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently.’ Not publicly. Not with shame. Not with whispers behind their back.”
Pastor Ambrose sighed, resting his hands on the pulpit. “Some of you have no clue what I’m talking about. Some of you have made assumptions. Some of you have allowed gossip to take root where grace should flourish. Some of you stood by and enjoyed the show.”
His voice grew heavier. “If you were one of those people, I urge you—repent. Because it is not that young woman’s reputation at stake here. It is ours. It is the name of the Church. It is the name of Jesus.
“The Church is not meant to be a reflection of man but of God.”
A deeper silence settled over the congregation.
