Armodoxy for Today: The Judge and Jury

One of the stories from Jesus’ life that should give everyone – yes, everyone – cause for pause and reflection is the story of the woman caught in adultery. It is recorded in the Gospel of John, from which we read…

Early in the morning He came again into the temple, and all the people came to Him; and He sat down and taught them. Then the scribes and Pharisees brought to Him a woman caught in adultery. And when they had set her in the midst, they said to Him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in adultery, in the very act. Now Moses, in the law, commanded us that such should be stoned. But what do You say?”  This they said, testing Him, that they might have something of which to accuse Him. But Jesus stooped down and wrote on the ground with His finger, as though He did not hear.

So when they continued asking Him, He raised Himself up and said to them, “He who is without sin among you, let him throw a stone at her first.”  And again He stooped down and wrote on the ground. Then those who heard it, being convicted by their conscience, went out one by one, beginning with the oldest even to the last. And Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst. When Jesus had raised Himself up and saw no one but the woman, He said to her, “Woman, where are those accusers of yours? Has no one condemned you?”  She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said to her, “Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more.” (John 8)

In case you missed it, this is a story about judgement. In this story, Jesus is the only one qualified to pass judgement. He is the only one who can accept the invitation to pick up the first stone, that is, he is the only one who is without sin. Jesus stands before the woman is judge and as jury, to offer the verdict, “Neither do I condemn you.”

One more time, the lesson “Judge not, that you be not judged” (Matthew 7) is taught by Jesus, this time with his action, a verdict that reminds us that we do not have the moral authority to throw the first stone.

We pray, Lord, Teach my heart to walk gently in this world. Keep me from lifting stones— stones of blame, stones of pride, stones of quick conclusions. You know the hidden battles each soul carries, the wounds no eye can see, the fears no voice can confess. Let me remember that I, too, am a work in progress, standing in need of the same mercy I often forget to offer. Amen.