Scripture Reflection for April 6, 2025, Fifth Sunday of Lent

Is 43:16-21
Ps 126:1-2, 2-3, 4-5, 6
Phil 3:8-14
Jn 8:1-11

Evil isn't a single thread. Rather, it is, to borrow Sir Walter Scott's image, a "tangled web." Lie upon lie, interlocking deceptions and denials, selfishness, hidden motives, plain old sin and plain old sinners: it often all works together -- like the political ruins the pure, like the mob shouts down truth -- all of it conspires against the good and the innocent. I am talking, of course, about the world we live in, how the world has always been, how evil so often is not singular but darkly symphonic.

That's the best I can describe it. That's what this story John tells reveals -- the symphonic character of evil. It's the famous story about the woman caught in adultery. A complicated story, if you read it closely, you'll see just what I mean. The wickedness at work is made of evils woven together, designed to ruin both the woman condemned and Jesus. The evils against them are several.

Consider the scene. Jesus comes early in the morning from the Mount of Olives, that place of apocalyptic significance, and takes his seat in the temple area. Sat as a rabbi, Jesus is there to teach. But the teacher is forced to be a judge. The scribes and the Pharisees are not interested in truth but in conviction, in the expression and use of power. John is clear that their motives are not pure; they mean to "test him." That's why they bring him this woman "caught in adultery" (Jn 8:4-6). They are not really interested in her fate at all. They've made her into a trap to catch Jesus.

There's something immediately fishy about it. The woman was supposedly "caught in the very act of committing adultery." Who exactly was watching? Where is the man? The whole thing seems rigged to me. The woman might not be entirely innocent, but she does seem to have fallen victim to the schemes of men who meant to trap her. The allusion to the story of Susanna in the Book of Daniel is obvious. What's going on here is a conspiracy against justice.

But the scheme is not ultimately about her. It's about Jesus. They think that if Jesus counsels mercy, they'll be able to accuse him of disregarding God's law. Because, of course, the law of God condemns adulterers to death (Lv 20:10; Dt 22:21; Ez 16:38-40). Yet, if Jesus condemns her to death, then he runs afoul of Roman authority, for only Rome may condemn people to death. That's the trap they think they've set; ruining some poor woman's life was simply necessary to the ruse.

So, what are we to make of it? There is, I think, not much more to be said about the conspiracy or about the sins that went into it. These are but wicked men just like the wicked we know today. They are not impressive, only relentless. I would not advise paying them any more attention than is necessary; rather, I would point out a more interesting detail, and that's how, due to their scheming, Jesus and the woman are now paired together. The sinner and the redeemer now stand together.

Which is the better point. Jesus is for this woman what Daniel was for Susanna (Dn 13:44-64). He is her savior. Writing something mysteriously in the dirt, Jesus says, "Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her" (Jn 8:7). Jesus is not here discounting the seriousness of adultery or sin generally; rather, he is reminding her accusers of the gravity of their responsibility before the truth and the tribunal of God. He frightens them with the truth; he backs them off from their wicked plans by reminding them that they too will one day be judged.

And so, the Truth conquers their lies. The redeemer conquers the accuser, and the sinner is saved. "Has no one condemned you?" he asks her (Jn 8:10). These are words that I think the redeemed will hear in heaven. This is what Jesus does for us. This story has been all along really but a parable of our own redemption, a story about how God will save us too from the dark symphony of evil. Which is, it seems to me, a story of hope worth remembering against the schemes of the wicked who remain.