Monday of the Fifth Week of Lent -- April 11, 2011
John 8:1 – 11
But Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.
At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.
But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.
At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
“No one, sir,” she said.
“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”
Jesus radically redefined sin. He understood sin as an inner stance, as an infection of heart in which the human person lived a life that was closed down to God, others and the world.
That was a major departure from the understanding that most religious people had of sin. The man or woman on the street in Jesus’ time would have understood sin in terms of a list of moral obligations, codes that would confirm or deny a person’s holiness. Sin was demonstrated in morality, in one’s actions.
Thus, you could tell whether or not one was a sinner by their outward life. In that framework, certain persons were classified as sinners simply by virtue of their occupation or role in life.
And if some were “sinners” by virtue of their role in life, others were not considered sinners for the same reason. Some roles excluded you, while others included you. The religious leadership of the Temple, including priests, scribes, and experts in the Hebrew Law were holy simply by virtue of their profession.
When Jesus called these men – who brought a known “sinner” into their midst – to throw a stone if they were not sinners, he implicitly invited each of them to acknowledge their own inner state.
Perhaps he was suggesting that these men had participated in actions that would be considered sinful. More likely, though, he was shifting their sin to an inward state. He invited them to consider their humanity, the human condition they shared in common with every other human. In essence, he may have invited them to confess that they were humans after all, not some religious professionals beyond sin. They may have thought of themselves as the elite, the uber-menschen of their time.
I find that many earnest Christians lament their sinfulness. Maybe that’s as it should be. I do know that somewhere in Christian proclamation and instruction we have communicated the idea that real Christians don’t sin, or if we do sin, at least we’re sinning less and less.
Along with this idea, we believe that progress in the spiritual life means that we’re “improving” in the area of life where we are weak. For instance, if anger is one of my problems, God should obliterate my anger. If I’m impatient, God should simply take away my impatience.
In some ways, this stance becomes a denial of my humanity and my capacity for self-deception.
My relationship with God – with myself and others, as well – changed significantly over time when I began to let go of the self-judgment and self-condemnation of my own sin. I had an exceptionally wise spiritual guide who helped me to see that my desire to be “without sin” was actually a desire to be God. I wasn’t satisfied being human. I had to be perfect. I wanted God’s job. The long trek for me was the journey of embracing my humanity, and that meant honestly acknowledging my sin.
But in that process, I also learned that God’s love, mercy and compassion are boundless. I came to an experiential understanding that there was not a sin in my arsenal bigger than God.
It may be that Jesus’ invitation to the Pharisees and teachers of the Law was basically an invitation for these men to drop their surface judgments and old notions of sin, and instead acknowledge their humanity.
And further, it may be that when Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you,” he intended not only the woman, but also these men who were her accusers.
But Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.
At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.
But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.
At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
“No one, sir,” she said.
“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”
Jesus radically redefined sin. He understood sin as an inner stance, as an infection of heart in which the human person lived a life that was closed down to God, others and the world.
That was a major departure from the understanding that most religious people had of sin. The man or woman on the street in Jesus’ time would have understood sin in terms of a list of moral obligations, codes that would confirm or deny a person’s holiness. Sin was demonstrated in morality, in one’s actions.
Thus, you could tell whether or not one was a sinner by their outward life. In that framework, certain persons were classified as sinners simply by virtue of their occupation or role in life.
And if some were “sinners” by virtue of their role in life, others were not considered sinners for the same reason. Some roles excluded you, while others included you. The religious leadership of the Temple, including priests, scribes, and experts in the Hebrew Law were holy simply by virtue of their profession.
When Jesus called these men – who brought a known “sinner” into their midst – to throw a stone if they were not sinners, he implicitly invited each of them to acknowledge their own inner state.
Perhaps he was suggesting that these men had participated in actions that would be considered sinful. More likely, though, he was shifting their sin to an inward state. He invited them to consider their humanity, the human condition they shared in common with every other human. In essence, he may have invited them to confess that they were humans after all, not some religious professionals beyond sin. They may have thought of themselves as the elite, the uber-menschen of their time.
I find that many earnest Christians lament their sinfulness. Maybe that’s as it should be. I do know that somewhere in Christian proclamation and instruction we have communicated the idea that real Christians don’t sin, or if we do sin, at least we’re sinning less and less.
Along with this idea, we believe that progress in the spiritual life means that we’re “improving” in the area of life where we are weak. For instance, if anger is one of my problems, God should obliterate my anger. If I’m impatient, God should simply take away my impatience.
In some ways, this stance becomes a denial of my humanity and my capacity for self-deception.
My relationship with God – with myself and others, as well – changed significantly over time when I began to let go of the self-judgment and self-condemnation of my own sin. I had an exceptionally wise spiritual guide who helped me to see that my desire to be “without sin” was actually a desire to be God. I wasn’t satisfied being human. I had to be perfect. I wanted God’s job. The long trek for me was the journey of embracing my humanity, and that meant honestly acknowledging my sin.
But in that process, I also learned that God’s love, mercy and compassion are boundless. I came to an experiential understanding that there was not a sin in my arsenal bigger than God.
It may be that Jesus’ invitation to the Pharisees and teachers of the Law was basically an invitation for these men to drop their surface judgments and old notions of sin, and instead acknowledge their humanity.
And further, it may be that when Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you,” he intended not only the woman, but also these men who were her accusers.
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