It's Time to Drop the Stones

John 8 begins with a familiar scene. Jesus is in the temple. A crowd is gathering, and he is teaching them. In typical gospel fashion, he is quickly interrupted by a group of angry men with a trap. This time baited with an adulterous woman.

Now, despite every depiction of Biblical characters you have ever seen, these were not bearded white men. None of them were blonde or had blue eyes. They were Middle Eastern, but more importantly they were agents representing the dominant culture of the Jewish people who deemed themselves the purveyors of justice. So, perhaps envisioning them as white men is actually helpful.

These men bring the woman before Jesus and say, “We caught her in the very act of adultery.“ In other words, no one, including the woman, is defending her innocence. “The law of Moses clearly states,” they continued, “this woman is to be stoned, but what do you say?”

Naturally, Jesus knows the law, but in case you don't, here it is...

“If there is a man who commits adultery with another man's wife...the adulterer and the adulteress shall surely be put to death.”
Leviticus 20:10 NASB

The key here is that both shall be put to death, but there is no “both” in this story. There is only the woman. What Jesus knows, and we often forget is that this woman had fallen victim to an oppressive judicial system whose scales were tilted in favor of one group of people over another, and in this case men who were members of the aforementioned dominant culture.

Certainly, the context of the story tells us that the men intended to shame Jesus, but let’s not be too quick to ignore the fact that certain societal structures and taboos had been erected which allowed the weight of justice to fall disproportionately on the shoulders of this woman.

The Apostle John tells us how Jesus responds to the men's question, and it is an odd detail to the story that has puzzled people for centuries. Jesus stoops down and writes in the sand. Highly educated theologians throughout history have conjectured about what Jesus was doing in the sand. Since no one knows for sure, I'll add a highly unlikely, but very relevant possibility to the list . . .

#FemaleLivesMatter

Of course, none of these men would have argued with the assertion that female lives matter because Genesis clearly says that God has imprinted his image on all human beings (Gen. 1:27). In other words, these men knew all lives matter, and yet, it is hard to deny in this very moment--seeing the manner in which only the woman is brought forth for trial--their actions communicated that female lives mattered less.

Now, Jesus could have demanded the adulterous man be brought forward by saying, “Justice is gender blind, kill them both!” Instead, Jesus says, “If you are without sin, then you be the first to cast a stone.” Or to grossly paraphrase, “Because you know you are guilty, ask yourself, ‘Are you willing that our justice system treat you for your sins the way you are treating this woman for hers?’ If so, then have at it.”

The simple truth is that the system was rigged against some people, and no one knew that better than this woman. These men represent the defenders of the status quo who--whether intentionally or not--ensured that the cries of the oppressed in their society were simply not heard. Naturally, no one wants to be the victim of an oppressive judicial system, and very few people actually desire that others fall victim either. But no one, and I mean no one, wants to be on the receiving end of that first cast stone.

After the dust settles, and one by one the men walk away, Jesus goes back to writing in the sand, amending his previous iteration to perhaps read . . .

#YourLifeMatters.

Prior to that moment, the dominant culture fostered the conditions which led to the woman and only the women being sentenced to death. As a result, this woman, along with countless others, were not so much told that their lives didn't matter as they were treated like they didn't.

What happens next is simply beautiful. Jesus looks around. Looks at the woman, and breaks the growing silence with these words, “Where are your accusers?” And Jesus, the only one without sin, the only one who knows how to carry out justice and judgement without prejudice, says, “Then I don't accuse you either. Go, and let the redemption of this moment lead you to a lifetime of righteousness.”

Unfortunately, most people today, in reading the story of the woman caught in adultery, are quick to identify with the woman and the beautiful story of grace that saves her from a life of sin. But those of us--myself included--who thrive in the context of and benefit from their status in society’s dominant culture should first identify with the men seeking this woman’s life. Or better yet we should identify with the gathered mass of people who silently watched and did nothing to stop this injustice or even confess that it existed.

For me, Jesus here gives us a lens through which his followers should see the contemporary “Whose lives matter?” debate.

Jesus's response is disruptive to the status quo by bringing to light the ways in which these men were complicit in establishing, maintaining, and supporting an ungodly, oppressive justice system. Jesus was able to intentionally and subversively disrupt the status quo because he heard the cries of the oppressed. He witnessed first hand the suffering of people in bondage everyday, and he was never content to silently sit on the sideline.

In turn, we ought not deny that this sort of oppression exists by focusing on the guilt of the victims (“she wouldn't be in this position if she wasn't an adulterer”) or the good intentions of the oppressor (“The Pharisees serve and protect our community”).  In doing so, we ourselves become complicit in establishing, maintaining, and supporting our own ungodly, oppressive system of justice. 

Which means, at the very least . . . It's time to drop the stones.