See, I Am Doing Something New!Read Time 9 min

FIFTH SUNDAY OF LENT
Isaiah 43:16-21
Philippians 3:8-14
John 8:1-11

Throughout this Lenten season I have been reflecting on the elements and the sacredness of time. Time is both precious and fleeting. The little hand of my newborn granddaughter, which I held with promise two years ago, now puts puzzles together and holds a fork and spoon to feed her little belly. Where has the time gone, I ask myself. And what have I done to create better times for people who struggle in real time? Ash Wednesday, which seems so long ago now, came crashing into my time of pleasure with harsh realities of my own sin.

What I treasure in the Gospels is the unrelenting promise of mercy and forgiveness that shows up like a consoling angel to offer hope to souls, like mine, who struggle. Here we are in Jesus-time, where despite our own efforts at prayer, fasting and almsgiving, there is one who pauses in time to forgive. Isaiah’s beautiful line: “(S)ee I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” braces us for a story of great love.

What is that “new thing”? Today we land like a helicopter into the midst of a test for Jesus. Jesus has gone to the Mount of Olives, where he often spent the night praying. Now, early in the morning, he walks down from the mount, through the Kidron Valley and back up to the temple area in Jerusalem, where he will teach. All the people find him there and come to listen. We do not know what he is teaching about, but we know that like a dark ominous cloud, the pleasant moment is suddenly thrown into chaos.

There is suspicion in the wind, there is contempt and a seething desire to find something about Jesus for which he could be charged. The Pharisees and scribes also gathered with the people in the morning, but not to listen to Jesus, but rather to test his authenticity. Who is he really? So, they seize upon a woman caught in the very act of adultery. She is made to stand amid the people shamed and used.

The scribes and Pharisees filtered all of life through the Mosaic Law. That was their job description. They spent their lives in the Temple teaching about the nuances, not only of the Ten Commandments, but of all the other Levitical laws which dominated their world view. Jesus challenged their world view. He is a Jew. He is a rabbi. He has worked mighty deeds, and he has filled the air with hope for a kingdom of peace and mercy. For Jesus, sometimes the Law took a back seat to compassion and love. Like healing on the Sabbath.

But his detractors had other intentions here in this place where the exposed woman stands before a shocked crowd waiting to see what will happen. Will Jesus follow the Law of Moses, and if he does, then he will join them in stoning the woman. If he does not, then how could he be who he claims to be: the one who has come from God and who is God.

What does Jesus do? Three things. First, he takes a lower position. He bends down to write with his finger in the earth. When Moses received the decalogue from God on Mount Sinai, God wrote with his finger on the stone tablets. (Deuteronomy 9:10) Jesus is helping the woman’s accusers remember that it is God who writes with the finger of authority. Second, Jesus diffuses the raw emotion present — the hate, the vicious challenge, the self-righteousness, the shaming — through a holy pause. Third, he reads their very souls and says to them: “Let the one among you who is without sin, be the first to throw a stone at her.”

This is the moment of the new thing! This is the moment in time where the mercy of Jesus is manifested. And as the accusers leave, dropping their stones to the ground, there is remaining what many have called “mercy facing misery.” Jesus can address the woman. He moves from the bent position to the standing position where he can look the woman in the eye. He does not rail at her, preach to her, accuse her — but simply stays in the reality of the moment. He asks her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” Jesus gives the woman voice: “No one, sir.” Jesus answers, “Neither do I condemn you.” Jesus sets her free with the word “Go.” Leave this sin behind.

And what about her accusers? Perhaps they were brought to a place of their own sorrow. John always has room for further interpretation within his Gospel. The kind of intense blame that existed in her accusers today would indicate the projection of sin upon a scapegoat. What would that sin be?

If we leap into the sphere of symbolism in John’s Gospel, and the beauty of the Old Testament, we know historically that when Israel betrayed the covenant of God and created its own idols, that when they drifted from fidelity to God, the prophets would refer to their infidelity as adultery. In my college years, I remember the theologian teaching us that a nation that was rampant with false gods was also subject to much marital infidelity.

If that is the case, then the woman is a symbol of a covenant that needs to be mended. Throwing stones to kill the woman would not heal the wound of brokenness between God and humanity. What will mend the wound is mercy and forgiveness, which Jesus demonstrated as the accusers departed.

Time is sacred. If we are to grow at all during this season of Lent, we will run to the arms of God’s mercy to abide there, dropping the stones of blame, to be reconciled with Jesus, the teacher, the rabbi, the one who always initiates something new.