by Rev. Herbert Nichols

The week before last we began to re on the complexity of healing. Using the metaphor or parable of a fig tree, which did not bear fruit immediately; we saw that the critical component in the process of healing is patience and prayer.

Through prayer our hearts are opened to relationship with God like the brothers in the gospel last Sunday, and we tap into the extraordinary power of the Holy Spirit to bring good out of the worst of situations; to cleanse our Church and our selves of the poisons of shame, anger, and vengeance.

Frequently at family gatherings, a child is told by relatives how much she or he has grown since the last meeting; or on other occasions a young child bight be reprimanded: a good boy or girl doesn’t do a thing like that. Though we promise ourselves as adults never to say those words, few of us catch ourselves before the well-worn comment is out of our mouths. If we don’t say it we at least think it; nevertheless the growth of children toward maturity is as amazing as it is predictable.

The same is true of spiritual growth. We are pulled into maturity as we respond to God’s desire for us to become whom we are meant to be. As we continue to reflect and pray during these last two wee of Lent, often called Passiontide, recalling the last days of Jesus’ earthly life; we need also to keep in focus the compassion and new life that comes from the resurrection. It is often not so much the road on which we journey but the goal for which we strive that is in need of fine-tuning.

In today’s gospel, it is not really the woman who is on trial. What happens to her is clearly inconsequential. She is being used and humiliated, her private sins made public before for the sake of a precious argument. It is Jesus who is on trial. He is the enemy, the heretic, the threat to the Pharisees and scribes who consider themselves the holders of God’s prophecies and promises.

We can imagine Jesus looking at them as they roughly push her forward, her eyes bent to the ground piercing in shame like a laser. We can imagine the crowd hushed and tense waiting to see and hear what will happen next. The trap is set to prove that Jesus is not who ne claims to be--asking them a question that forces him to spare the woman and deny the validity of their interpretation of Mosaic Law.

The silence of Jesus must have been deafening as the crowd waits, the wind brushes through the trees. Jesus bends down to doodle in the sand. The scribes and Pharisees rattle on, persisting and making fools of themselves. Then Jesus stands and utters these immemorable words: Let the person among you who has no sin be the first to cast a stone. He stooped and continued to doodle while beginning with the eldest, the wisest, the most experienced, one by one they walked away. They did not condemn her because she had only been a tool for them.

We do not know this woman’s name, or what happened to her. Though some have claimed that this woman was Mary Magdalene or even Mary of Bethany, there really is no evidence to identify her. With certainty she is a distinct person with her own history and her own life; yet, she is also symbolic of every person who stands in need of compassion. She is you, me, all of us.

She could have very well uttered the words written by Paul and read to us today: "I have come to rate all as loss in the unsurpassing knowledge of my Lord Jesus Christ. Nothing else means anything. It is not that I have attained perfect maturity but I continue in my pursuit in hope that I may possess it. . . .I give no thought now to what lies behind, but I hope, I trust that I may arrive at the resurrection from the dead."

Careful attention to our everyday lives reveals God and His plan for us. Attention to our deepest feelings and emotions opens us to the power of the indwelling Holy Spirit, who moves us to spiritual maturity and enables us to accept peace, forgiveness, and repentance. When each of us lives out honest answers to life’s questions, we are helping to create a more faithful community, one that looks more an more like the Body of Christ.

One that is able to hear the voice from the Father: you are my beloved. One that is able to hear the compassionate words of Jesus: "Has no one condemned you? Neither will I!" But Jesus did not excuse her or dismiss her as having no account. Rather he asked for her repentance.

If this woman walked away repentant and never turned back, then we also see the truth of the first reading from Isaiah applied both to her and to us: Remember not the events of the past, of long ago, or even yesterday, There is a choice to be made, to turn to new beginnings or to remain complacent with the way things always are, "like slaves of our own pharaohs," we can continue to dwell on the dark times or put our trust in the Lord.

Repentance is a relational action; it requires two; one to repent and another to grant repentance (forgiveness). God, who is the giver, is never the problem. God freely chooses to make his people righteous and holy; but such a gift can only be accepted in faith. God’s heart is not made of stone; but our own stony hearts must crack open to receive God’s forgiveness to flow.