Put that rock down!

I am exploring the possibility of becoming an Oblate of the Order of St. Benedict. Part of the process is attendance at meetings at their monastery in Rock Island. It's a beautiful place. The ravines, the woods, the pond, the beauty of the buildings make it easy to forget that it's within city limits. The drive to get there is nice too: woodsy and marshy, it looks largely unspoiled. Except for that eyesore called Jumer's.

During yesterday's meeting we read, prayed over, and discussed the story of the woman caught in adultery. It's in John 8:1-11, and the story is told there far better than I could ever tell it. If you're not familiar, please stop reading my stuff and read that story now. I'll wait.

{pause. waiting.} Thank you!

That was also the Gospel reading for Mass this weekend. The incident provokes thought on many levels.

A woman "caught in the very act of adultery" was brought before Jesus. He's told that Moses "commanded us to stone such women." Such women? Really? Moses' law called for both adulterers to be stoned, not just the woman (Deut. 22:22). If she was caught in the very act didn't they catch the man, too? So, where was the man caught in adultery?

In the time and place, this would have been seen as not so much a sexual violation as a property violation. A wife had no rights independent of her husband. She was his property. It's hard to realize now how radical Jesus was in this regard. Jesus treated women with respect. He treated women as equals to men. So, for him, this was no piece of property before him. This was a human being - no doubt humiliated, frightened, and having the worst day of her entire life - a human being, with all the human dimensions.

So, Jesus writes on the ground. The Gospel writer did not think it important to record exactly what Jesus wrote. I don't know about you, but I'd love to know.

And Jesus says, "Let the execution begin! Only - let it begin with the first stone being cast by the one among you who is without sin."

And so, one by one, confronted with their own conscience (and maybe confronted with what Jesus had written on the ground), all put down their stones and leave, until she is alone with Jesus. "Woman, is no one left to accuse you?" We imagine the shocked, surprised look around before the response: "No one, sir."

And then Jesus does not say, "Well, then: carry on!" He says, "Go your way, and from now on do not sin again."

Who would I have been in this story? It's easy to be one who carries stones around, ready to cast them at all who need correction. It's so much fun to say, "You need to learn the meaning of. . ." But Jesus confronts precisely that attitude. The only thing I can say is, "I need to learn the meaning of. . ." My faith means everything to me, and in this story Jesus takes away any permission I'd ever thought I had to use my faith as a club.

Now I have some stones to get rid of. Thanks for spending a few with me!