From the Gospel: The judge who pays the penalty
By showing God’s extravagant mercy, Jesus was playing with fire because the moral legalists could not see how this fit in with God’s holiness
Fifth Sunday of Lent. Today’s readings: Isaiah 43,16-21; Philippians 3,8-14; John 8,1-11
Though very often made up, stories can be amazing pedagogical tools that speak to the heart. So were the parables of Jesus, created by the skilled Master in order to convey deep truths.
Last Sunday we heard the beautiful parable of the prodigal son, in which Jesus dared to show us a face of God that spelled mercy all over. This week, we are presented with a historical setting wherein Jesus shows that his parables were not just empty words. He himself put the parable into practice, showing that he not only forgives, but also defends us from our accusers.
At the end of the Bible, the Book of Revelation details a final cosmic battle between God and the powers of evil. There, Satan is described as the one who accuses Christians day and night before God, yet he has been thrown down, and his accusations with him (Rev. 12,10). However, on earth, accusations are still hurled at others, be they culpable or not.
Today’s protagonist is a woman caught in adultery who finds herself surrounded by a group of men longing to stone her to death for her immoral behaviour. The stones had already been selected, their weight having been gauged to inflict their intended lethal effect. But like an African buffalo that stands tall when its calf is attacked by a lion, Jesus rose to his feet and quelled the hatred of those bloodthirsty men who were obsessed with enforcing punishment. It was God’s holiness that was insulted, yet they acted as though it was their prerogative to exact that pound of flesh.
The verdict? Guilty. The judgment? Freed. The debt? Nil
A few piercing words of Jesus were all that was needed for their hypocrisy to be laid bare. “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her” (Jn 8,7). Their own sin suddenly looming large over them, they could no longer stick to their guns. Having reluctantly dropped the stones out of their hands, they left the scene, allowing us a deeper glimpse into the mercy of Jesus expressed in his gentle conversation with the dumbfounded woman.
If the departure of that mob of accusers was enough to render the woman speechless, the attitude of Jesus toward her left her all the more so. The verdict? Guilty. The judgement? Freed. The debt? Nil.
In a beautiful church in Banská Bystrica, Slovakia, the colourful mosaic depiction of the crucifixion says it all. Beside the cross, a blank scroll represents the cancellation of our debt, echoing Paul’s words: “He forgave us all our sins, having cancelled the charge of our legal indebtedness, which stood against us and condemned us; he has taken it away, nailing it to the cross (Col 2,13-14).”
In an evocative song, Michael Card describes the Gospel account with touching lyrics: “My judge, a man from Galilee; in his eyes, so gentle I could see a father and a brother and a son… He would not condemn me, though he could, for he would be condemned someday for me.”
By teaching parables like the one of the prodigal son that showed God’s extravagant mercy, Jesus was playing with fire because the moral legalists of his time could not see how this fit in with God’s holiness. Now, with this incident, Jesus was pushing it too far. Defending a sinner in this manner would not go down well with the religious authorities. One day, he would pay with his life.
As we approach the solemn celebrations of Holy Week and Easter, we are brought face to face once again with the love of Christ who took the blow to shield us, bore the cross to redeem us, and tasted death in our stead. Thankfully, there is no sin that is stronger than Christ’s love.