A Story for the Year of Mercy

How shocking it must have been. Here was a woman, caught in the very act of adultery. The very act! Let's imagine the scene. Whispers and murmurs must have circulated the crowd as all stopped to stare at the woman and her accusers. They all knew the law: This woman must be stoned to death. Perhaps the woman was sobbing hysterically, as she was dragged before Jesus. Perhaps the crowd shouted at her, hurling insults and threats.

The Pharisees posed their question to Jesus: “What are we to do?” They knew that if Jesus condoned the execution of the woman, he would contradict his previous words and deeds. His apparent inconsistency would cost him his following. The loss of his popularity would mean the elimination of the threat Jesus posed to the established social order. On the other hand, if Jesus opposed her execution, they would be able to accuse him of violating Mosaic law, and eliminate him that way. Either way, they believed they had Jesus trapped. A silence fell over the crowd as all awaited Jesus' response.

How surprising it must have been to all gathered when Jesus did not respond to the question posed to him. In fact, Jesus' silence, and his action of bending down to write in the sand, must have seemed entirely illogical. Perhaps Peter, always remembered for his tendency to speak without considering all the consequences of his words, stepped forward and murmured, “Master, they asked a question.” Puzzled looks were exchanged by all gathered. The question was repeated.

At last, after what seemed like an eternity, especially for the woman, Jesus responded. His response was not what anyone expected. “Let the one among you who is without sin cast the first stone at her.” Again Jesus bent down to write in the sand.

What was Jesus writing? Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen suggested that Jesus was writing the sins of the accusers, sins buried deep within the hearts and pasts of all who would consider themselves blameless in the eyes of society. Regardless of what Jesus wrote, the effect of Jesus' words was clear. Each individual, the elders first, and gradually every accuser, was confronted with a grim reality: the reality that they were not as blameless as they would give the appearance of being. Suddenly, they were unable to condemn this woman for her sin, in the face of the awareness of their own.

It is easy to write off the remainder of the story as a beautiful happy ending: The accusers dispersed, Jesus absolves the woman and gives her the opportunity to transform her life and turn away from her sin. We walk away with two seemingly simple messages: Don't judge, and God is always willing to forgive. Simple, right?

Yet, maybe, just maybe, in this Extraordinary Year of Mercy, this story is worth another look. It may be that, besides simply telling us not to judge, and to turn away from our sin and embrace the forgiveness God always wants to offer us, Jesus, the great model of how to live, is also trying to teach us something else, as well. It may be that Jesus is trying to teach us how to intervene peacefully and how to show mercy to others to whom the world is merciless.

It would have been all to easy for Jesus to respond directly and harshly to the Pharisees who were questioning him. Many times in the course of his life and ministry, and even at the time of his death, he could have responded more “strongly,” more harshly. He could have angrily confronted their attempts to trap him. Yet, it is no coincidence that the only time the Gospels record Jesus truly losing his temper is when the offense was against his Father, not against him directly. Jesus did not derive strength from his anger, or show his power through blatant shows of force. Instead, Jesus chose indirect ways of confronting his opponents. He chose silent resistance over angry confrontation. Everyone walked away alive and physically unharmed, yet his resistance also forced those who would inflict violence out of their sense of their own moral rectitude to step back and see the truth. The story does not reveal what happened to all the accusers, but it is not impossible to believe that more than one life may have been transformed that day.

This connects closely with the other lesson Jesus may have been trying to convey to all who would call themselves his followers through this encounter: Mercy to those who do not seem worthy. We all have our prejudices. We all, despite our best efforts, have moments where we hear about what someone has done, and think, “That is completely unforgivable.” As long as we believe that something is unforgivable, no forgiveness is ever given. Jesus turns the notion of an “unforgivable sin” on its head by showing mercy to a woman who committed a crime that, according to the Mosaic law, is, indeed, punishable by death. All who would call themselves a follower of Jesus must do the same.

In proclaiming the Year of Mercy, Pope Francis named around 800 priests “Missionaries of Mercy.” One of these priests serves at my College. Even with his special designation by Pope Francis, he maintains that “All Christians are missionaries of God's mercy.”

How shocking it must have been that a woman condemned to death walked away into the new life of one who has been forgiven. How shocking it must necessarily be when we, the Body of Christ, act with the same mercy and compassion of Jesus in our world today.