A mosaic illustrating the Gospel story of Jesus’ encounter with the woman caught in adultery is seen at the St John Paul II National Shrine in Washington. Photo: CNS The Sunday Gospel
Our Sunday Gospels this year are taken from Luke, but today’s story of the woman accused of adultery is found in John’s Gospel 8:1-11. But it is very likely that it was originally a portion of Luke that somehow found its way into the manuscripts of John. Its present location breaks the continuity of John while it would fit in perfectly at the end of Luke, Chapter 21. Jesus was then in Jerusalem just before his arrest and Passion. He came to the Temple, sat down and spoke to the crowd eagerly milling around him. The Pharisees and legal experts were scheming to get rid of Jesus. Various traps had been set for him such as the question of whether it was lawful to pay tax to Caesar.
Another opportunity arose when a woman was caught in the act of adultery. I have often been asked the obvious question. Where was the partner, the man? Maybe he just ran away. No, there was another reason why he was not charged. Their ancient laws declared that people who committed idolatry, murder or adultery should be stoned to death, but this sentence was rarely carried out, only when it suited the leaders’ purpose. Furthermore, a popular interpretation of divorce allowed for cases where the woman who had previously been married was judged to be guilty of adultery while the male was not guilty. Guess who came up with this interpretation? Male legislators of course.
In today’s second reading, St Paul, who had once been a very strict, legalistic Pharisee who arrested Christians, tells us of his absolute joy in coming to know and believe in Jesus Christ. Paul’s problem was rooted in the claim made by Christians that Jesus had risen from the dead. But encountering the Risen Lord on the road to Damascus changed everything. Now he knew that perfection is not to be found in strict legalism but in knowing Jesus Christ. He called his former behaviour rubbish. “All I want is to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and to share his sufferings by reproducing the pattern of his death” (Phil 3:10).
Harsh legalism
Many of us can remember the harsh legalism of the confessional, especially in relation to sex. Pope Francis, in his apostolic exhortation, The Joy of the Gospel, writes: “I want to remind priests that the confessional must not be a torture chamber but rather an encounter with the Lord’s mercy which spurs us on to do our best.” It reminds me of a story that Pope Francis has often related. While he was a bishop in his native Argentina, a priest in his diocese came to him with a problem. He felt he was not strict enough in the confessional. The future Pope asked him what he did when this feeling upset him. “I go to the chapel and talk to Jesus about it.”
“And what do you say to Jesus?”
“Just like I said to you. I feel that I am too lenient with sinners. I’m not strict enough. But it’s all your fault, Jesus, because it was you who started it!” That man knew his Gospel.
The legal experts who dragged the woman, under the guise of condemning her, were really intent on getting Jesus condemned. They set up a dilemma. He was noted for sitting with sinners and outcasts. Now, if he said she should not be stoned they could claim he was not obeying the law. But if he agreed to her stoning his reputation for mercy and forgiveness would be destroyed, and he would be in trouble with the Roman authorities who forbade the Jews to condemn anybody to death. Previously, when they presented the dilemma about paying taxes to Caesar, Jesus asked them to show him a coin. Your answer is in your pocket. If you accept Roman money then you are accepting their taxation. In this case the pocket he referred to was their memory. “Let whoever is without sin cast the first stone.”
Imagination
Let us change our approach now and use your imagination to visualise the scene. Focus on the hands of the people there that day revealing their inner attitudes. See the rough hands hauling this poor woman out of the house. Beckoning hands call out support from every doorway and dark corner. Cruel hands drag the woman and throw her into the centre. In full view probably means that she was stripped of clothing. Her trembling hands vainly attempt to cover her embarrassment.
“Master, Rabbi”, we hear, their hands gesturing like a pleading advocate, though they cannot altogether mask the hypocrisy of their appeal.
Then fingers of criticism stab the air in the direction of the accused…“this woman”…as if she had no name…no right to person.
The pointing fingers of condemnation then rise upright and wag back and forth in righteous indignation…“adulteress!” Fingers now lock savagely to form the clenched fist.
“The law says she should be put to death by stoning”, a cue for their hands to become frantic claws raking the earth for stones. Bulging hands now hold aloft the rocks of wrath, poised, waiting for permission to throw.” Jesus is asked, “What do you say?”
How relaxed are the hands of Jesus! No pointing: no bulging veins of frenzy: no angry clenching. There he is at the butt of a pillar, taking the shade and playing as a child in the dust.
Was he writing their sins? Or engaging in a little act of distraction to divert attention from the lady’s embarrassment? Or maybe he was just playfully doodling a daydream?
That one relaxed hand gave her an unexpected ray of hope. A hand of compassion, playing in the dust of creation, restoring the dead to life. “Go away, and don’t sin anymore.”
Wisely did King David say, “Let us rather fall into the hand of God, since his mercy is great, and not into the hands of men” (II Samuel 24:14).
Prayer
God of mercy and compassion, look with pity upon me. Father, let me call thee Father, ‘tis thy child returns to thee.
Fr Silvester O’Flynn’s book, Gospel Reflections and Prayers is available at Columba Books.