Sunday, V LENT, Cycle C
(John 8)
It was a regular Sunday morning. People filled the cathedral for mass. After reading the gospel the preacher began his homily. All of a sudden there was a furor in the front of the church. Someone started shouting as he neared the pulpit. Gun in hand, he demanded a hearing. The scene is not much different in the gospel today. The scribes and Pharisees interrupt Jesus’ teaching with what corresponds to a loaded pistol.
Into the midst of the assembly before Jesus the scribes and Pharisees parade a forlorn woman. She has been caught in the act of adultery. The passage does not describe how she looks, but it takes little imagination to see her as partially dressed. In any case, she is likely flush with shame. She has been exposed to a large crowd who look on her with contempt. Even if the people do not see naked flesh, they ridicule her for being caught in sin. We should be able to appreciate the hell the woman is experiencing. Most of us have probably had the nightmare of being exposed in a similar way.
Hopefully, if we were in the Temple area with Jesus that morning, we would have looked away. The scribes and Pharisees, however, take no note of the woman’s feelings. They don’t even care about her sin. They are using her to attack Jesus. They will mount a two step assault. First, they will cite the Scriptures: “...in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women.” Then, expecting Jesus to have a contradictory judgment, they will seal his fate with the question: “What do you say?” It is the devil’s strategy of turning Scripture on its head. The Law proposes to form a righteous people. Here its supposed defenders show themselves as anything but righteous as they seek to undermine a just man.
Jesus, however, remains as composed as an iceberg in the Artic winter. In modesty, he bends to the ground and turns his head away. Then he demonstrates how divine mercy tempers justice. He challenges the whole crowd, “Let the one among you who is without sin cast the first stone.”
Significantly, Jesus does not make an excuse for adultery. He does not argue that the woman might need the money if she is a prostitute. Nor does he inquire about her partner in crime as if that would remove her guilt. No, he confronts everyone present – including us – with his or her own sinfulness. When we face our own guilt, we recognize a need for leniency. Pope John Paul II cast a cold eye on the death penalty for this reason. Seeing how abortion has eroded the sanctity of life, he pleaded for an end to capital punishment which calls into question the sanctity of the criminal’s life.
The pope’s declaration twelve years ago has been a moment of illumination for the world. It has enabled pro-choice advocates to see the cruelty of giving a woman the option of killing her own flesh and blood. And it has opened the eyes of pro-life proponents to admit that their field of concern needs stretching. We see this same enlightenment taking place as everyone leaves the Temple area -- scribe, Pharisee, and Jesus listener. Jesus has touched all with his plea for mercy. No one merits the right to cast a stone.
Alone with the woman Jesus can finally look at her. His eyes are void of judgment and filled with compassion. She has committed a grave sin which cannot be ignored. But she has already suffered the stiff punishment of shame in front of the crowd. To be forgiven she must also display what the Church calls firm purpose of amendment. “Go, and from now on do not sin any more,” he gently tells her. She will avoid the sin in the future. After Jesus narrowly saves her from a brutal death, how can she fall again? Unfortunately, we often forget that Christ has similarly rescued us. In confession we likely think of Jesus more as a traffic cop than a savior. He seems to stop us, ticket us, and tell us to speed no more. We depart ready to exceed the speed limit as soon as he is out of sight. But Christ has died a more gruesome death than stoning to save us from the punishment our sins deserve. How can we sin any more? No, we want to avoid sin. More than that, we want to become just and merciful like Jesus.
A striking incident occurs only in the Passion according to Luke which we will read at Mass next Sunday. Just after Jesus dies on the cross, “all the people...return(ed) home beating their breasts” (Lk 23:48). Scribes, Pharisees, and Jesus listeners show remorse for Jesus’ death. Just so, we face our guilt at Mass by striking our breasts at the Confiteor. We must cast a cold eye on our sins. They undermine our righteousness. They merit for us a brutal death. Now is the time to plead that mercy temper justice. Now is the time to plead for mercy.
