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Gospel Reflection 20070325

Jesus had only God to "cover for him."
Stripped. Humiliated and ashamed. Divested of every protection from the crowd. Jesus had to rely on God.
Haven't there been times when actions you weren't proud of were exposed for all to see? Humiliation and shame darken our lives at such times. Jesus had God's love to which to turn. So do we!

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March 25, 2007

Fifth Sunday of Lent

Gospel
Jn 8:1-11

Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.
But early in the morning he arrived again in the temple area,
and all the people started coming to him,
and he sat down and taught them.
Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman
who had been caught in adultery
and made her stand in the middle.
They said to him,
“Teacher, this woman was caught
in the very act of committing adultery.
Now in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women.
So what do you say?”
They said this to test him,
so that they could have some charge to bring against him.
Jesus bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger.
But when they continued asking him,
he straightened up and said to them,
“Let the one among you who is without sin
be the first to throw a stone at her.”
Again he bent down and wrote on the ground.
And in response, they went away one by one,
beginning with the elders.
So he was left alone with the woman before him.
Then Jesus straightened up and said to her,
“Woman, where are they?
Has no one condemned you?”
She replied, “No one, sir.”
Then Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you.
Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”

ONE
Well, they did it again!
For being the smartest people of their time, you would think that the Scribes and Pharisees would catch on a little quicker; but the Gospels are full of stories in which they challenge Jesus’ teachings only to end up frustrated and embarrassed by his penetrating responses. Unfortunately, being smart and learned is no protection against being arrogant.
So, here they come again in today’s Gospel and you can almost hear the wheels turning in their eager minds. This time we’ll get him. We’ve even got Moses on our side. This hick preacher from Galilee can carry this love and forgiveness stuff only so far and still stay within the Law. He might be able to outsmart us but he’ll never outsmart Moses. Moses demanded punishment for adultery, not leniency. So, they drag this woman up to him and present their accusations against her. You can imagine their smugness as they played up to the crowd to show how righteous they were. It’s almost a scene from a soap opera. By contract, Jesus never loses his cool. He just bends over and starts writing in the dust with his finger.
Now, lots of people have speculated over the ages on what he wrote that had such an impact on those men. Some have suggested that he began listing their personal, hidden sins for all in the crowd to see. Others say that he wrote down the names of those among them who themselves had done some very indiscreet things with this very woman. Somehow or other, though, that doesn’t seem the kind of thing Jesus would have done. He simply was much too gentle even with those who liked to try to trick him. After all, he had come to convert people, not condemn them. He was aware that they were fully schooled not only in the words of the Law, which they were using to condemn this woman, but also in the words of the Prophets and the Psalmist. They knew, for example, that the Psalmist had declared that the Lord “is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in kindness.” They knew that God, speaking through the prophet Hosea, had said, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” so that, in God’s eyes, mercy superceded even the Law.
So, when Jesus bent down, he needed to write just a simple message in order to open their minds and give them pause in their hot pursuit of this law-breaking woman. It shouldn’t surprise us then, if all he wrote were a few words, something like “What would God do?” Just a short message like that, coupled with looking them straight in the eye and challenging them with: “Let the one who is without sin throw the first stone at her.” They were stopped in their tracks not only by his words but by the snickers from the onlookers who were all too familiar with the faults of their less than perfect leaders. Now, at that point, I think Jesus and the woman could have just walked away and no one would have stopped them; but Jesus was not concerned just with saving the woman. He wanted to save the Scribes and Pharisees as well. So, rather than prolong the argument Jesus once more bent down and touched his finger to the ground and here again I think he wrote just a few simple words. Three words would have been enough to sum up all he had tried to teach not only those men but the rest of the crowd and us, also. “Become like God.” Anyway, whatever he wrote, it was just too much for them. You can see them turn away defeated and unconverted by this gentle teacher. Even as they depart you can almost hear them muttering among themselves, “He hasn’t heard the last of us. Some day we’ll find a way to corner him and make him bleed.” And that’s just what they finally did because Jesus’ plea for them to have a change of heart fell on closed ears.
That scene is ended. Let’s fast forward to now. Jesus is calling us also, to become like God right here on this fifth Sunday of Lent in the year 2007. Is he finding more response from us than he did from the Scribes and Pharisees of long ago? Are we, for example, more like God than we were five weeks ago when Lent began? Has this been a season of reconciliation and conversion for us, a time of growth in holiness?
There was a very powerful teaching in a Sunday Gospel reading that we heard just before Lent began. It was no accident that the Church placed that reading right were it was so that we would have something to sink our teeth into, real meat for us to chew and ponder over during our Lenten retreat. Surely you remember it. In that reading we heard Jesus say to his disciples, and to us, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” Powerful words. Did they touch our hearts and help us set our goals for Lent or did we turn away like the Pharisees and Scribes of old. Let’s spend a moment examining our conscience.
Today, am I more like God because, during this Lenten season I found ways to be more patient and considerate with my spouse, less harsh with my children, less obstinate with my parents, more ready to overlook the aggravating ways of those with whom I live, work, study, even worship? Unlike the Scribes and Pharisees who were so ready to expose the sins of others, am I ready to confess my own sinfulness so that I can hear Jesus say to me the words that freed the woman in our story “I do not condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”
This Lent is almost over. If it has been a time of growth, well done; but if we have not used well these past five weeks to become more like God, we need not despair. It’s not too late. Take to heart the message that the cantor proclaimed for us a few minutes ago.
“Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart for I am gracious and merciful.”
Jesus is ready to bend down once more, not just to write a message on the ground but to enter our very hearts and fill us with his Eucharistic presence so that we can, in fact, become like God.



TWO
Did you ever play charades at a party? You get pieces of paper and write down names of television shows, movies, songs. You choose up sides, someone watches the clock and then you start.
The first actor stands up and starts to pantomime the name of a movie or a song and everyone on each team starts yelling. Is this what your action sounds like, is this the word, is it a small word, big word, first letter? Soon, someone gets one or two words and everyone continues yelling out titles which include those two words in the title. At every party where the game is being played there is one person who isn’t doing a lot of yelling. That person is watching and listening and is usually quiet. This person is watching the pantomime and is trying to figure out the answer. He or she is into the game but just isn’t as loud or as noisy. This person is listening to the wrong answers. Despite the distractions of the party, despite the pressure of the game or the ticking of the clock and despite what anyone else is saying, this person may finally yell out an answer.
If it’s wrong he will be quiet for a moment and then yell out another one. Most of the time this person comes up with the name. He isn’t doing a lot of yelling or shouting but, finally, this person often comes up with the right answer. This person could be Jesus. Jesus would be great at charades. You see, the person who has control has a certain amount of calm and a lot of patience. They have a certain amount of peace about themselves in the midst of all the chaos going on around them. Sound familiar? This is Jesus.
Picture the scene we read about in the gospel. Everybody is mumbling, everybody is talking about what is going on. The Pharisees throw this lady down in front of Jesus and they put a question to Him. “What’s the answer to this problem, Jesus?” They’ve got a clock on him. He’s under the gun to give a quick answer... within seconds. But, what does He do with the excitement, the pressure and all the distractions around Him?
He quietly bends down and slowly starts tracing in the dirt. Quietly displaying a certain amount of patience and peace. He is very calm. Then He stands up and, instead of giving them an answer, He just says, “Well, you know, anyone who doesn’t have any sins go ahead and cast the first stone.” Then He bends down and starts tracing again in the ground.
Now, many interpretations have been put forward as to what He traced on the ground. There have been many homilists who felt that he wrote in the sand the sins of all the people who were there and, out of embarrassment and shame they disappeared when He stood up the second time. I’m not sure what He wrote. The point is that as soon as He started tracing in the ground, He brought some calm to the situation and to the people. He took the pressure off everyone, especially the young lady. Maybe he gave the people gathered there time to think. Maybe He gave them some time to have some insight into what was really happening and maybe the Pharisees realized they were there just to trap Jesus and to test Him. The point is that in a tense situation, Jesus remained calm and His demeanor spread to everyone around Him. He brought peace. His patience gave everyone else a chance to be patient. Out of that calm, peace and patience there came some insight.
I don’t think they all walked away because they were embarrassed. We all know human nature and in any group of people each person has many feelings within their hearts. I think Jesus brought calm and peace to those who were there.
Certainly, the lady found calm and peace.
When Jesus spoke to her it was without any pressure on her, without sending her on a guilt trip and without force, anger or outrage. He saved her life... He gave her some insight.
This is what we can expect from with Jesus. This is what we need to find in Jesus. Something, hopefully, that we have found already during this Lenten season and, if not, certainly something we can ask Jesus to give us in the final weeks before our Easter celebration. Jesus brings peace. Jesus brings a calming influence to our lives. He establishes and offers patience and, in this, He offers insight to our mind, heart and spirit.
Soon, things are going to get crazy because of all the family celebrations and the Easter celebration itself. When families get together there’s a lot to do in order to enjoy the occasion. Now is an especially good time to ask Jesus to bring to us with what he offered to that crowd. If we haven’t used this Lenten season to its best, there is time to use the last final weeks as best we can and ask Jesus for what we need to most… insight to figure things out and patience to deal with what’s going on in our lives. He can bring calm and a certain peace of spirit that we can use and offer to other people. Picture is as if you were playing charades. We have to figure out His messages. We have to study the clues He us during this Easter season. The message some from the Church and from the scriptures. Remember, also, God is talking to us directly in our own prayers. We have to discern the titles and the messages. The best way to do this is to remember the game of charades. There is usually one person who is just a little more quiet and a little more patient while everyone is going crazy all around him. You be the calm person. I think Jesus is that person. He’d be great at a party.
So, it is especially important to us to remember right now that we should ask Jesus to offer us what He offered that crowd. We must use it His example and share it with those people He brings into our lives. Offer it to them in service to Jesus and praise of our Father and with the sharing spirit He offers to us because He loves us.
Have a good Easter!!!!


THREE
If St. John, the author of today's Gospel, would have entered this episode in a national short story contest, he would certainly have won first prize. This story of the woman taken in adultery is packed with every element of that which makes a story powerful and memorable. There is drama, pathos and mercy.
Yes, there is drama in this story -- a classic confrontation between Jesus and his old enemies, the Scribes and the Pharisees. You can almost hear them saying, "Now we've got you." Several times they had tried to trap Jesus, without success. "Master, which is the greatest of the commandments?" "Is it lawful to pay tribute to Caesar?" "If a man marries seven times and dies, who is his wife in Heaven?" And He escaped every trap they laid for him. But today, they say, "You can't get away. We've got you." But He did get away, so deftly that they didn't even pause long enough to shout a curse against Him. They just walked away quietly. There was plenty of drama.
And there is mystery here, too. What was it that He was doing with the stick on the ground? Was He simply poking the ground a few times with His head bowed in shame and embarrassment at what the Scribes were trying to do. Or did He, as some think, actually begin to write on the ground the sins of those men for everyone to see? The gospel doesn't tell us. The mystery has never been solved.
And there is pathos, too. The poignant scene of a woman who has been stripped of all human dignity, degraded in her own eyes and in the eyes of her accusers. The two, Jesus and the woman, finally stand alone in the square, and mercy and misery look into each other's eyes.
This, too, is a beautiful story of God's mercy. What Jesus did not do is as important as what he did do. He did not rant and rave at the woman. Nor did He attack the Law of Moses, which provided for the stoning someone who was taken in adultery. Nor did He attack her would-be executioners. He bawled out no one.
These are the things that Jesus did NOT do. But what did He do? First of all, he overcame evil with good. He saw misery and he wiped out that misery with understanding and forgiveness.
Second, He made the would-be executioners do some thinking. They may have been vicious men but they were also intelligent and it would be a fair guess that never again in their lifetimes would they charge anyone publicly with crime without hearing that statement ringing in their ears, "The one among you who is innocent '' let him cast the first stone." Finally, and most importantly, Jesus restored to that woman her dignity. We can put up with losing many things in this life.
We can lose our income, our freedom, even our health and still hold on. But one thing no person can tolerate is losing his dignity, his sense of self worth, his self esteem. Take that away and there is nothing left to live for. Money is useful but not indispensable. Imprisonment can't enslave the human spirit. The mind can stay healthy and active in a diseased body. However, our personal dignity is so identified with our total being that to take it away causes an irreparable loss.
In both last Sunday's story of the prodigal son and today's story of the woman taken in adultery, God does the same thing for the sinner and He promises the same thing to you and to me. He does not defend evil; He defends evildoers against all those fakes and phonies who fail to sympathize with our human problems. And because He understands and forgives, it becomes possible for us to regain that which is most precious in our lives--our human dignity.


FOUR

“Let he who is without sin, throw the first stone.” The challenge of Jesus to the scribes and Pharisees is itself “lapidary”, like the direct hit of a stone. It penetrated deeply into their consciences that they might understand their own hypocrisy. Think what joy there would have been if, instead of retiring to lick their wounds, they had said to Jesus, “we have sinned, have mercy on us”! Hypocrisy is the unspoken elephant in everyone’s heart, except, of course, the Hearts of Jesus and of His Blessed Mother. In our secret selves, we can relish hypocrisy, because it gives us a sense of superiority and self-righteousness; it fires the zealot in us to show outrage against the sins of others and holy fanaticism for the love of God’s law. At the same time, we hate it because it can betray or blackmail us at any time. Hypocrisy convinces us we have the right and duty to be the conscience of others, as if we ourselves were both the inner and the outer voice of God and, so, in no need of a conscience of our own. Indeed, hypocrisy would put us above God and others, for we assume for ourselves the task of judging when God’s law applies (just in case He is not aware of it) and how and to whom it applies.
Those who brought the woman to Jesus were not wrong in their knowledge of what the law said or in their assertion about what she had done. No doubt many others had perished at their hands for the same thing. What they failed to understand was that Jesus knew the reality of sin to extend well beyond a certain number of prescribed, external acts, without excluding those acts. Sin is born in the heart and, while it might pass through the body in actions and words, it returns to the heart with triumphant, reinforced pride. Jesus also brought with Him a new and more radical way of destroying sin, yet sparing the sinner. It is the way of mercy and truth, revealed in His most comforting words: “Does no-one condemn you? Neither do I.” That is mercy. “Go and sin no more.” That is truth. Jesus aims for the heart to pierce it with the sword of His saving word. In the instance we are considering, it is as if He says: yes, you have sinned; yes, your sin must be condemned; but, yes, I condemn your sin by taking it on myself; yes, by my mercy, I restore you to freedom from sin; go, and stay free in the freedom of my mercy and truth. The accused, the condemned, is no longer the sinner, but Jesus, the sinless one. The sin He expels from us through mercy, He takes vicariously on Himself. By His sacrificial death, however, He expels that sin from Himself forever. With the death of Christ, sin has thus been expelled from creation; with His death, there is a new creation. Those who freely cling to sin are thus destined to remain in the old creation, a creation which is passing away and will ultimately be destroyed. Those who freely cling to Christ in His and in their own death will be “born again”, be re-created, be redeemed, be raised up from the dead. Such are the deep and eternal truths of salvation contained in seed form in the encounter between Jesus, the adulterous woman and the scribes and Pharisees.
It must be said again. Jesus would have given forgiveness to each of those who had a stone in his hand, had he just dropped it and reached out to Him. He did all He could do to cause an earthquake in their consciences and make them come to their senses, as did the prodigal son, but they would not, did not, come to Him; instead, they left Him, as did perhaps the prodigal son’s elder brother after disagreeing with his Father. Such is the drama of human freedom. Of course, one might argue that the woman did not come to Him either; is it fair that she was forgiven and they not? We can only surmise how Jesus knew she was open to Him, apart, of course, from stating that the only person to whom Jesus was ever unfair was Himself.
She did not confess her sin in the way we would do in the confessional. But, in her case, was there any need? Caught “in the act”, and with no sign of denying it in front of her accusers or Jesus, her confession would have been superfluous. More importantly, however, she hears the dialogue between Jesus and her accusers, and realizes with astonishment that Jesus sees far beyond external actions to the heart of all. She perceives His divine mercy; she perceives His saving intent; she perceives that He perceives the truth of all motivations; and, perhaps for the first time in her sorry life, she begins to know the joy, the hope of truly being loved for who she is, not for what she has to offer. Here before her was the only man who had the right to lift a stone and to condemn her; and He did not do it, because He came, not to condemn, but to seek out and save the lost.
Note that Jesus does not simply “err on the side of mercy”, in a kind of, “we’ll let it go this time” attitude. He is not turning a blind eye; He sees very clearly, and He speaks very clearly. He brings to light the sin of both the accusers and of the accused. The one party He cannot forgive because they will not confess their sins clearly even by the gesture of drawing close to Him; the other He can and does forgive, and forgive mightily, for the reasons already described. Mercy first brings to light what is dark; it then absorbs and destroys the evil and restores new life to the one who had been its victim. Mercy does not highlight the dark for the dark’s sake, but for the light’s sake. Mercy accuses so as to lead the accused to life, not to death, unless that is what the accused freely prefers. Except for the case of those who are physically or morally incapable of it, the Church, because Christ Himself, requires us to reveal, to confess, to bring to the light, our sins so that we can be forgiven them. If we feel humiliated by confessing, the humiliation is the result of our sins, not of the sacrament. You cannot blame the doctor for your sickness. Jesus is not to blame for the woman’s adultery. It is not for no reason that sin seeks to remain hidden, secret, sly and elusive. In this way, it can achieve its aim of doing more damage to the sinner, like a tumor infiltrating the soul. The more you resist confession because you are embarrassed or humiliated, the more effective sin is doing its sorry and destructive job. How easy it is to rationalize not confessing, sometimes even with motives we call spiritual. Whenever we confess our sin with sincerity and humility, the Jesus of our text returns in the person of the priest, and the hope and joy which the adulterous woman had, will be ours. The soul of the one who is not at rights with God will necessarily flag. But the humble penitent will be renewed with the strength and vitality of the eagle.
In life there are many things we would like to forget, and maybe even do forget, because the sharp pain they bring is too much to bear. Yet, the more we “forget” them, the more they can hurt, for they seek remembrance, expression and resolution. They seek to give back to our love at least part of the self we have forgotten. Some of those things are not our fault, some are partly our fault and some are completely our fault. But they all hurt. You will recall the story of Thomas doubting that Jesus was risen until he had touched the scars on His body for himself. We call these the glorious wounds of Jesus, and certainly none of them can be said to be His fault. Jesus still carries in His risen body those wounds he received for our sake. In some way, they are the jewels on His trophy. By those wounds, we are healed; in those jewels we are made rich. Perhaps this should be our model, our way of treating our own wounds. Our inner self still carries the scars, the wounds of our lives. They may not make living impossible, but they do make happiness very difficult. While we cannot spend our time “licking” those wounds, we might need to try to understand them and how they have made us who we are, or who we are not, today. The adulterous woman’s wounds became her doorway to hope, joy and, we might surmise, healing. None of this could have happened, however, without Him who is “the Door”, the holiest of all holy doors: is this the “Door” of the confessional? While it is true that sacramental absolution is necessary for the healing of the wounds that are our own fault, we should remember that Jesus does not limit the power of His merciful love only to those wounds. In the introduction to the formula of sacramental absolution, the priest says: “Through the ministry of the Church, may God give you pardon and peace.” Peace! Peace with God, first of all, but a peace which, like a good nuclear explosion, mushrooms and fans outwards to the whole of our inner selves. Christ sees all the different types and intensities of wound which afflict our spirits. Evil of one kind or another is at the root of them all and, as we pray in the Mass, Jesus comes to “deliver us from every evil and protect us from all anxiety”.
I realize that understanding one’s own suffering and confusion is neither pleasant nor easy. Yet somehow we can never quite fully and truly be who we are unless we try to understand and accept it all. Acceptance is very hard without understanding, and understanding oneself is tough work. Jesus, by the power of His word, which understands all things, can and will lead us through the valleys and the shadows of death within us, to reach calm waters. He does not love just the part of us we present to Him. Nor is it fair to say to Him, “Lord I give you my whole self” and then turn from Him when He seeks to reveal to us who that whole self actually is. In contemplating us, His eyes, alight with delight, see the deep beauty within every soul, and His Heart desires each soul to work with Him to discover that beauty for itself. He does not just see the self we offer Him today; He sees in one merciful regard the whole fascinating mystery of the unfolding self that each of us has become, from the moment of conception, through all life’s yesterdays until the present moment. While we carry within us the memory of our whole lives, but cannot or do not want to see entire sections of that memory, Jesus does see them, He remembers everything. He is the one who can help us find and redeem our lost memory, the memory we either threw away in shame or disgust, or was somehow taken from us by others. If we let Him, He will insert our remembering into His remembering; He will enable us to remember who we truly are and are to become; He will heal all memories in the memory of Himself, of His unconditional love, of His unconditional availability and of His unconditional forgiveness. Ultimate healing of the human being is only possible in the ultimate human being, Jesus the loving Christ, the Prince of Peace.
Although we may have good reason to fear sufferings, past, present or future, there is, with Christ, ultimately, nothing to fear. Jesus will not stone us. The only stone He gives us is Peter, the Rock, standing on whom we need fear not even the gates of hell. Should the whole world itself condemn us for our flagrant sins and justly demand our condemnation, the Christ in whom our hearts have sincerely trusted and hoped will bid us joyful welcome through the gates of Paradise. There is an adulterous woman in us all; there is a scribe and Pharisee in us all; and, if we can but dare to hope it, there is a Christ in us all. Once we embrace this three-fold truth, there will be no more accusers or accused, no more adultery, no more stones. Instead, we will all be strong enough to drop them, to reach out for His rescuing hand, for one another’s hands and maybe, then, be able to join our own hands in prayer to the Merciful Jesus, a prayer which is, at last, free from all hypocrisy.

posted by Mike Young @ 5:59 PM