John 8:1-11 (NRSV)
Then everyone went home, but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. 2 Early the next morning he went back to the Temple. All the people gathered around him, and he sat down and began to teach them. 3 The teachers of the Law and the Pharisees brought in a woman who had been caught committing adultery, and they made her stand before them all. 4 “Teacher,” they said to Jesus, “this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. 5 In our Law Moses commanded that such a woman must be stoned to death. Now, what do you say?” 6 They said this to trap Jesus, so that they could accuse him. But he bent over and wrote on the ground with his finger. 7 As they stood there asking him questions, he straightened up and said to them, “Whichever one of you has committed no sin may throw the first stone at her.” 8 Then he bent over again and wrote on the ground. 9 When they heard this, they all left, one by one, the older ones first. Jesus was left alone, with the woman still standing there. 10 He straightened up and said to her, “Where are they? Is there no one left to condemn you?” 11 “No one, sir,” she answered. “Well, then,” Jesus said, “I do not condemn you either. Go, but do not sin again.”
As we continue our Journey of Stones here in Lent, I invite you to feel the stone in your hand. Today we talk about a different group of stones, stones thrown to condemn another person.
In this story, there are three groups of people. The ones accusing. The one being accused. The ones standing by. And there is Jesus. And in order to understand this story we need to know more about these people.
The first obvious group is the Pharisees. We find them in the last chapter seeking Jesus in order to trap him. They even sent Roman Guards to have him arrested, but they came back empty handed. When asked why, they sad that “No one had ever talked that way.” So the Pharisees continued plotting. This passage today was their next attempt to discredit Jesus. They wanted to prove that he was a lawbreaker.
They came together and decided to bring someone before him that he would have to condemn. Quietly plotting, they went to a woman whom they knew was committing adultery. They stood outside of her home, and watched as the man entered. Then, at the appropriate moment, they broke in and found her compromised.
Since there was no husband accusing her, it is likely that she was unmarried. The man she was with was cheating on his wife, not the other way around. She was likely a prostitute.
Casting the man aside, they dragged her out to be judged and stoned to death. Caught in the act, but the man was set free, and the woman was to be punished. Likely the man was rich, or powerful, or maybe even one of them.
At most, she would be covered with a blanket. Possibly she would not even be allowed that level of protection.
And they did this for a single reason. It wasn’t because she had committed adultery. It wasn’t because she had sinned. It was because they hated Jesus and wanted to trap him.
The woman was just a pawn. Killing her meant nothing to them. Are there people in your life whom you condemn without a trial? Are there people who you use to try to show your superiority? Are there people, like the prostitute, who you feel do not deserve your love and compassion?
There is a passage that comes to mind as Jesus discusses judging others: The words of Matthew 7:1-5
7 “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. 2 For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. 3 Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? 4 Or how can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while the log is in your own eye? 5 You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.
The second person in this text is the woman. Caught. In. The. Act. Of. Adultery. In the act.
Picture her that morning, knowing her lover is coming to be with her. She carefully dresses, puts on her makeup, and prepares for him. As he walks in, he embraces her, making her feel like someone special. She knows it is wrong, but she is willing to allow this because she has no one else.
And then, as they intertwine, the room is suddenly filled with strangers, angry, grabbing her, dragging her out of the bed. Perhaps someone places a blanket around her, or maybe they don’t even care.
The joy of the morning is gone. Surrounded by hatred, she is paraded down the street, with everyone watching, knowing what she has done. This shame will never leave her. This shame cuts deeply.
All of us have seen it on the playground. One child bullies another. They come back with “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never harm me.” Then they go back to the restroom, lock the door behind them and cry. Words hurt. Accusations, true or untrue, hurt. Perhaps a better rehearsal of the old saying might be:
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can sting like anything.
A couple of months ago, one of our bases in Iran was hit with artillery shelling. With plenty of notice, the soldiers were able to avoid being in the direct line of fire. There were no external injuries. But over the next few weeks, many of the soldiers exhibited signs of an injury that wasn’t visible, traumatic brain injury.
On the outside everything looked good. But the damage happened deep inside.
That is what words can do in the hands of those aiming them. On the outside, we look fine. But deep down where it matters, it stays.
This woman will never be the same. The brutal way in which she is treated is obviously unfair.
Maybe you understand what it means to be accused. Maybe you are a person who has sinned and is afraid someone will know. Or maybe you understand what it means to be a person who has sinned and been found out. You stand accused today. Your shame is visible to everyone.
If this is you, I give you a passage written by John from one of his letters. 1 John 3:18-20 (NRSV) tells us:
18 Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action. 19 And by this we will know that we are from the truth and will reassure our hearts before him 20 whenever our hearts condemn us; for God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.
God is greater than our hearts. God is greater than those who accuse you or who you are afraid will accuse you. God already knows every one of your sins. And he loves you anyway.
It says in this passage that there was a third group. Jesus was in the courtyard teaching, when they rudely shoved their way in, interrupting his lesson.
Strangely, there is not a single word spoken by any of the disciples as the Pharisees hound Jesus. “Moses says that such a woman is to be stoned. What do you say.”
I can’t help but wonder how many of the disciples tried to slip out the side. We don’t want a part of this. We don’t want to get involved. We understand. We have done the same.
Perhaps they were afraid. They were certainly too afraid to speak up. Maybe they were just waiting to hear what Jesus would say. Would he be a leader in this? Or would he, too, look the other way.
After all, the woman HAD sinned. Who were they to interfere with the authorities.
The world is filled with unfair situations. Micah 6:8 calls on us to do justice, to love mercy, and walk humbly with our God.
This means that when injustice happens, we are called to speak out. No one did.
And finally, we have Jesus.
It says that when they brought the woman in, he did not look at them. Instead he wrote in the dirt.
People want to understand what he wrote. Maybe he didn’t write anything. Maybe he just didn’t want to participate in this unfair charade. Maybe he didn’t want to look on the woman and add to her shame.
In fact, as they pressured him, he responded in a way they didn’t expect. “Go ahead and stone her if that is the law. BUT, only those who haven’t sinned can do so.” One after another, they realized that they did not have that right and left.
The people who dragged her into the streets left her, standing caught and ashamed in front of Jesus.
Jesus looked up and asked, “Didn’t anyone condemn you?” And he, the perfect one, did not condemn her either.
Every single one of us sins. Every single one of us is forgiven. Not because we deserve it, but because Jesus cares about us. Because He died for us. Because He stepped in and saved us.
Go, knowing you are forgiven, and sin no more.
