Isaiah 43:16-21 Philippians 3:8-14 John 8:1-11

A second contributor to the Book of Isaiah (known as Deutero-Isaiah) recalls the saving power of God during the original Exodus from Egypt. The hallmark of the God of Israel was the power to save. The power described in the first few verses of this text is that of military might. But the terms of power shift. Deutero-Isaiah labels them “doing something new!” The shift was from the power to destroy to the power by which the Israelites survived and thrived on their desert pilgrimage. This was one of those occasions where the tremendous power of arms and force was deemed inadequate. The power admired was that which provided something delicate and priceless. Here was an occasion on which destruction was not salvific. God’s providence of manna, quail and water along the desert pilgrimage, recalled in Isaiah’s poetic text, was profound “loving-kindness.” God’s compassion, powerfully displayed, was what described the deepest divine mercy. Divine mercy has always been present; it is not a 20^th Century devotional discovery or insight. In the Book of Deuteronomy, Moses quoted God very bluntly. God said, “It was not because you were more numerous than any other people ... for you were the fewest of all people. It was because the LORD loved you and kept the oath he swore to your ancestors” (see Deuteronomy 7:7-8). Deutero-Isaiah’s God had only recently moved the Persian Emperor to free the Hebrew Captives he inherited in Babylon. Thus, the God of Israel was again the powerful God of great love. This will be expressed very succinctly five centuries later in New Testament writings (see 1^st John 4:16b).

The Gospel memory of the woman “caught in the very act of adultery” was not originally located at the beginning of John’s 8^th chapter. It seems to scholars to have been sort of suddenly and, without any literary continuity or connection, simply inserted into a lengthy series of theological conversations among Jesus, some disciples and some challenging Pharisees. But, what a magnificent insertion it is! The story is set up to be first and foremost a trap for Jesus (see verse 6). Imagine the humiliation of the woman and the crassness of those who paraded her to him on the temple grounds! This is among the more emotionally charged settings in the Gospel episodes about Jesus. You may ask, where was the male adulterer who must also have been caught in the act of adultery? Understand that in those days and in that culture, adultery was judged rather differently for a woman than for a man. But, as is so often true with Gospel details, that is of secondary importance for our reflection here. The huge lesson is how Jesus relates the certain sin of the adulterous woman to the individual and collective sinfulness of all those who condemned her and who wanted her executed. They tried to lay the moral burden for her condemnation onto Jesus. He did not deny the reality of the damage the sin might have done. He simply provoked the accusers into remembering that they stood in the same category as she: sinner. In fact, the crowd was male and they would have probably considered an adulterous woman worse than an adulterous man. In Jesus’ prophetic conscience, this was unjust and unacceptable. He forced them to reconsider their own inequity before they considered any iniquity on her part. Notice, too, that Jesus uttered neither condemnation nor absolution; he chose rather to exhort her to avoid this sin. What a blessing! What a gift! What a freedom! What a restoration to life! In a certain sense, we can get a hint that the sin itself becomes insignificant if the sinner reforms, evolves, and grows into engaging life fully, thoughtfully and responsibly. Does this remind you of the Prodigal Son Parable? But, be a bit careful here. Absolutely no circumstances of this particular adulterous event are provided. We don’t know why the woman was involved. We have no means to measure the intensity of wrongness or what might have been mitigating circumstances. Rather, it was the loving liberation from public judgment that freed the woman and restored her to life. She likely escaped death by stoning, at least according to the text. This great deed for the unnamed woman was a hint towards Jesus’ yet to be appreciated Paschal salvation.

It is worth pointing out that religious people and writers throughout Judaism and Christianity have often obsessed on the various ideas, especially sins, revolving around human sexuality. One cannot help but wonder whether these verses in John’s Gospel find Jesus telling us that sexual urges and actions are not necessarily the most dangerous or serious of sins. Indeed, adultery is remarkably destructive to spouse and family and society. But, are sexual sins necessarily greater than, say, sins against truthfulness and integrity? Are they worse than neglecting the needy and the sick? Are theft or greed less serious than sexual mis-behavior? Is not abuse of power or office as serious as adultery? What about financiers betting against those with whom they invest, or governments leading nations to war without good and truthful cause, or religious leaders reducing Gospel life to narrow ideology, or drug dealers or smugglers dealing death to the addicted, or politicians sowing innuendo and fear and pandering to special interest groups, or legislators failing to produce effective and just laws – are not these at least as serious as, if not far more serious than, adultery? We do not condone adultery. But, we must place it in it’s fuller, relative context of justice, sinfulness and seriousness. That is what Jesus did in today’s Gospel episode.

The Gospel messages of today and last Sunday ask us to consider how to be radically different from what others – including what our cultural norms – expect us to be. The Gospel expects us to wrestle with sinful realities which are destructive and hurtful to real persons, people like you and me. But, we are asked to respond to them differently, to engage without revenge, to be considerate and thoughtful before acting, and sometimes to act even without restitution. In last Sunday’s Gospel, imagining God in the parable’s father character, you and I were asked to imitate God, after we had imagined ourselves as each of the sons! In today’s Gospel you and I are asked to imitate Jesus himself! Forgiveness requires tremendous ability to think about the things of life in the biggest possible terms. The Gospel vocation is a huge calling. To be a disciple of Jesus Christ can require tremendous personal change and growth, and for a lifetime! How will you and I hear the Passion Narrative next Sunday, and again on Good Friday, if we have not first given serious consideration to how we live the Gospel message already?

Paul’s text to the Philippians refers to his insight that all in this life is, in comparison to our Gospel vocation, simply “loss” or “so much rubbish.” Actually, the Greek word Paul used which finds a polite translation as “rubbish” is also the word for dung and other such refuse. In other words, using a kind of sarcasm, Paul reduces all our normal human concerns to relative insignificance for the sake of reflection. Imagine what you might consider important if you had to lie on your death bed today. What held your attention in life? What has mattered most to you? Whom have you loved? What are your regrets? What have you failed to do? What might you have done differently had you the opportunity? How have you been like Jesus with situations as serious as that of the adulterous woman? Well, you are probably not on your death bed today. Go, find and take the opportunity to be different!

Next Sunday is Passion Sunday. Prepare to be passionate!