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Probably the most well known story from the Bible, “The Adulterous Woman,” represents a paradigm of repentance and salvation, a weapon aimed at the heart of the self-righteousness and hypocrisy. (Mt 7:1-5) While it had not always been a part of The Gospel of John, (The Complete Gospels pp. 217, 453) its place is now assured because of its strong message. Though the eight verses appear but once in the New Testament, its dramatic, powerful imagery has always found a home in popular renditions . . . to the point where the tale often defines Jesus for us, the essence of whom he is.

The Adulterous Woman

(John 8:3-11)

 

The scene commonly opens with Jesus teaching in a public square. He is placid, composed, the great teacher sharing the wealth of his knowledge. His gentle, commanding words reach the eager crowd, calming their troubled, inquisitive hearts, much like he did to the sea. (Mk 4: 36-41)

We hear commotion.

The crowd parts.

Suddenly, an angry mob bursts into the middle of the square. Outraged, they demand justice, swift retribution contrasting the frightened cries of the battered, defenseless, woman they have in tow. They cast her to the ground in front of Jesus and demand a verdict . . . one already decided as we notice stones clutched fervently in their hands. (Jn 8:3)

“This woman is an adulteress,” chimes a would-be spokesman, “caught in the act!”

She cowers before them, trying to cover her nakedness, left exposed by the tattered rags that were once her clothes, tears of shame rolling freely down her cheeks. Even she knew the punishment for adultery was death, and her heart raced at the sound of the charge sealing her fate.

“The Law says she must be stoned!” Another shouts, and the crowd cheers. She wails in terror, then collapses into a sobbing ball.

“Teacher,” a voice from the mob asks, “what do you say?” (Jn 8:4-5)

All eyes fall on her as she awaits her inevitable demise . . . all except for the “Good Teacher,” who pointedly ignores the scene as he crouches to scrawl in the dirt with his finger. (Jn 8:6)

“What say you . . . Teacher?” The spokesman presses, and the attention shifts. Serving justice has now become a test!

Jesus stands, and in cold finality meets her accusers: “He, who is free from sin, let him cast the first stone.” (Jn 8:7)

He returns to complete his work in the dirt, and our attention turns to the mob. (Jn 8:8)

One by one they all drop their stones and disperse, leaving Jesus alone, the woman confused but relieved . . . most important, spared. Just realizing what had happened, she gazes in worship and awe upon her “personal savior,” who stretches out a firm loving hand. (Jn 8:9) She is “saved” as he helps her rise off the ground. She bows her head in deference, and he smiles: “Where are your accusers? Didn’t a single one condemn you?” (Jn 8:10)

“No, my Lord,” she returned his smile.

“Then I do not condemn you either,” he concludes, “Go, and sin no more.” (Jn 8:11)

This is the stuff made for the pulpit.

This is the stuff of Hollywood.

This is the stuff that sells.

And I bought the tale as such for so many years.

I have always carried the story close to my heart, drawing upon its profound message to stymie attacks against those deemed less than worthy. After all, if even an adulteress could find forgiveness in Jesus, should we not all drop our stones? But I had the story second hand, did not even know where in the Bible to find it. I had a version sold by religion and media, complete with it’s all too subtle agenda . . . a guarantee of protection for those who turn to Jesus, a message of salvation for the sinner who repents. I never once asked the obvious question, explored the subtle nuances of a story:

“Did she really commit adultery?”

Like most people, I had assumed the worst. In my mind, she was guilty as charged . . . her salvation “by grace.” Subtle catchwords ran throughout my understanding of the story, and I began to wonder, if a religion intended this all along. The woman’s guilt opened the door for the evangelist, seeking to convert. Her shame could easily find a companion in each of our guilty consciences. As we are all too often reminded of our own skeletons, we find comfort in the woman charged of a capital crime, but given a chance to start over. Her guilt also meant that we could use the tale to stand against those who would seek revenge rather than justice . . . to touch on their own guilty consciences. It reminded us that at some point in our lives we have all felt like the woman, caught, cornered, and defenseless, needing a miracle to set us free. Her guilt made her one of us.

Then, I read the story I quoted so often . . . as the Bible tells it.

The story did not take place in a town square, but in the temple courtyard during the Feast of Booths (or Tabernacles). It does not begin on the morning of the third day, but on the eve of the second. (Jn 7:2) The Pharisees were shell shocked, reeling from Jesus’ success. They watched the crowd slowly turn to favor him and were outraged that an uneducated (Jn 7:15) “Galilean,” no better than a Samaritan, had seized the day. The guards they had sent earlier to arrest him (Jn 7:32) returned empty handed. (Jn 7:45)

“Why didn’t you bring him?” The Pharisees asked, clearly disappointed in their failure to perform such a simple task.

“But no man has ever spoken like he does!” They pleaded, but only found the cool glaring eyes of their superiors. (Jn 7:46)

“You too?” They scolded, “has any ruler ever given him any credit? Has he convinced any of us? No! He only convinces the ignorant masses, who don’t know a thing about the law.” (Jn 7:47-9)

Nicodemus, a Pharisee who had secretly spoken with Jesus in the past, (Jn 3:1-21) felt the mounting anger of his companions. He knew their fears at the core of their outrage, but had personally seen nothing to cause such an alarm. In silence he held deep respect for the rural prophet, but he also respected his peers, the pinnacles of righteousness and bastions of The Law. The two were now in conflict: Jesus had made them look bad; they wanted his blood; and that would not do anyone any good!

“I’m not so sure I like this,” he cautioned. “Does the Law allow us to condemn a man without so much as hearing from him first? How do we know his understanding of The Law, without first testing him on it?” (Jn 7:51)

“You too?” The Pharisees quipped, “are you also from Galilee?”

The glares mounted weighing down on Nicodemus. His own loyalty had now come into question. While torn inside, his companions had alluded to a choice already made . . . one that would have cast him out of their ranks. He shook his head, dropped his eyes in deference (and shame as he already sensed what was coming next).

“Good . . .” They began to form a plan, a way to finally rid themselves of the crude, rural upstart that had been plaguing them the past two days. They also had the perfect Pharisee to carry it out!

“You search,” the leader concluded, “and see to it no prophet arises from Galilee.” (Jn 7:52)

Context revealed something far subtler than I had first imagined, a move to discredit Jesus in the temple he had so easily taken from the Pharisees. Jesus was beginning to challenge their tenuous control, and as the author of John relates, they greatly feared the masses falling away from established traditions . . . a religion they helped define and monitor. They were “the elect” of Judaism, and something had to be done before it was too late.

As I read on, I could envision the unfolding plan, the woman dragged in by the Pharisees, not an angry mob, clearly orchestrated, planned the day before to test Jesus. Though unsure of the exact nature of the trap, I suspected the writer of John had a passage from Deuteronomy 19 in mind . . . to force Jesus to judge her guilt or innocence. By the Law, only “the LORD“, a priest, and an elected judge could decide the case. Jesus was none of the above (though they would try to trap him to say he was God later), and any verdict would have shown him unfit. (Deut 19:17-18) With Jesus discredited (quite possibly eliminated), they could regain the crowd.

The Law, however, is clear.Both partners convicted of an act of adultery are under sentences of death by stoning, yet only one is brought for Jesus to judge. (Lev 20:10) That it occurred at the temple, not a public square, also weakened their case, the bastions of The Law knowing full well to never drag anything unclean into “the tabernacle of the Lord.” (Lev 15:31) Had she truly been guilty, her sentence would have been clear, her stoning justified, and not in the temple. Regardless of their own “sins,” they could have killed her, if she was really guilty, yet they hesitated, dropping their stones, one by one.

Why?

I think they knew she was innocent. They seized a woman off the street and dragged her to “court” on trumped up charges, not from a bedchamber as they proclaimed. Her lover was not there, because he did not exist, and the very law the Pharisees hoped would convict Jesus had now turned against them:

“A single witness shall not rise up against a man on account of any iniquity or any sin which he has committed; on the evidence of two or three witnesses a matter shall be confirmed. If a malicious witness rises up against a man to accuse him of wrongdoing, then both the men who have the dispute shall stand before the LORD, before the priests and the judges who will be {in office} in those days. The judges shall investigate thoroughly, and if the witness is a false witness {and} he has accused his brother falsely, then you shall do to him just as he had intended to do to his brother. Thus you shall purge the evil from among you. The rest will hear and be afraid, and will never again do such an evil thing among you. Thus you shall not show pity: life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot.” (Deut 19: 15-21)

The law used to attack Jesus in the exchange that follows, (Jn 8:13-19) had been used to disperse the Pharisees. As false witnesses, their sin immediately would have come into question, and the penalty was clear. Had they persisted, taken it before the priests and judges, the Pharisees would have been stoned, just as they had intended to do to the woman. In their zeal to expose one they deemed a fraud, they had broken their own laws. The writer depicts Jesus, the great teacher, the “vessel of the Logos”, as seeing it too, the moment he pointedly distanced himself before being pressed to respond. Seeing right through the trap, he reminded the Pharisees of the law, but instead of exposing them he offered them a chance.

Walk away!

The Pharisees had no other choice but to cut their losses. To save face, they dropped their stones “one by one, from the eldest (wisest) first.”

Yet two millennia later we still assume the woman’s guilt!

The woman was not an adulteress, but a tool in an ongoing game of “cat and mouse” between Jesus and the Pharisees. She, like most women of her time, had no real voice or rights, was no better than property, and the story gives us a harsh reminder of the reality of her time. Careful reading shows women a primary focus of the gospels, Jesus interacting with them as equals against the common mores of a strict patriarchal society. Yet here we see the other side. Either she was a willing participant, or the pillars of her community had wronged her in a game beyond her control. If she were part of the plot, she also would have been subject to the same law, an active part of the deception, yet she remained when the trap was exposed. (Could this have been why Jesus told her to “go and sin no more?”) Considering, however, that nowhere else in the New Testament do the Pharisees involve women in their plans, and even Paul (a former Pharisee) assigns women a grossly inferior role in society. (cf. 1Tim 2:11-15) I highly doubt they would have broken tradition here.

She was simply a woman in the wrong place at the wrong time.

While she could have sought justice for her humiliation, common sense says, especially here, “you don’t fight City Hall.” In their final exchange, Jesus was not accepting her repentance, forgiving her sin, but merely showed his typical sensitivity towards the women of his day. His final words to her did not say “Go, and don’t commit adultery again.” He left it generic, a gentle warning for her to stay out of trouble, to let it go . . . just move on.

People get used, maligned, and hurt all the time to further somebody’s agenda, and we should never let our ends justify the means. The woman reminds us life is not always fair but to not “look a gift horse in the mouth” when we get a lucky break. The Pharisees remind us “what goes around, comes around.” We should not be too zealous to turn us into what we oppose, too proud to recognize when we mess up, and too stubborn to take an offered out. Jesus reminds us we should ever be mindful, should only judge when it is our place, and always seek the peaceful solution.

Maybe these are the stones we all need to drop.