KCL Chapel
Autumn term Sermon Series
John 8.1-11
23rd November 2016
LIFE IS UNFAIR
We could have a little discussion here about textual criticism and the manuscript evidence
for this part of John’s Gospel being authentic: but it would make a dull sermon, and I am
pretty sure I can preach a dull sermon without resorting to discussion about how the
earliest manuscripts don’t contain this passage.
Whatever, it is the kind of thing that Jesus would do – very in-keeping with what was going
into Jesus’ teaching and his actions not long before he was arrested.
In that respect there is a lot in this story that is undoubtedly true. The religious authorities
were trying to trap Jesus. Jesus had made it a habit to eat with all kinds of left-outs, leftbehinds, and downright losers: in doing this Jesus was breaking the ritual Laws as they were
understood by the religious elite.
So in this passage they decide, as they did elsewhere, to test Jesus and his attitude to the
Law. Will Jesus be true to form and show mercy and favour to someone who has sinned,
and in doing this, will Jesus, therefore deny the Law of Moses?
You’ve read the story, you know the answer.
But try and imagine for a moment you don’t. Imagine yourself as a keen theology student.
Your friend, an excellent physicist, has invented a time machine and wants to know which
period of history you would like to return to. ‘I know,’ you say to him, ‘Let’s go and find the
woman who was caught in the act of adultery, watch her encounter with Jesus, and then go
and ask John if he does write in his Gospel or if someone tagged it on later.’
So there you are hiding in the shadows, as this young lady is dragged before the kneeling
Jesus. He barely looks up: he doesn’t need to look at her, or to hear the testimony of these
Pharisees, to know that she is a sinner: she is a sinner; the Pharisees are sinners; the illicit
time traveler hiding in the corner is a sinner.
The Pharisees give testimony. Perhaps Jesus is tempted to ask just how they caught her in
the act of adultery, and what became of the other partner engaging in this illicit tango, but
he keeps quiet and lets them finish. Then, he just keeps scratching in the dust. Here we are
sharing in the cliff-hanger, holding our breath with the religious elite: mercy or law, justice
or a precedent being set for people to be able to do just what they like without suffering the
consequences they deserve.
I hope you are hoping that Jesus is not going to follow the letter of the Law prescribed by
Moses.
Maybe the teachers of the Law have just realized that they have been knuckleheads, and
have caught themselves on the horns of their own dilemma.
If Jesus shows compassion and is right to do so then their understanding of the Law is
wrong, and they can no longer make high and mighty pronouncements from their lofty
place of moral elitism.
If Jesus shows compassion and is wrong to do so, well then he is not the Messiah, and the
whole of creation is going to hell in a handcart, because who is there who can obey the Law
of Moses?
The experts and Pharisees can’t. For starters they have, as already mentioned, failed to
bring the male adulterer to the justice he deserves. They need Jesus to show compassion, as
we all do. I can’t. You can’t.
But it’s not right is it? The woman did commit adultery – there ought to be some
consequence. Like the workers in Jesus’ vineyard parable, the ones who rock up with five
minutes left on the clock, do the bare minimum work and yet pull don a full day’s pay along
with those who have been working round the clock.
Like the younger son who asks for, gets, and then wastes half the inheritance, only to return
home and take half of what is still left off his older brother who has worked hard and
faithfully all that time.
Like the thief on the cross who mumbles something close to regret who gets to the front of
the queue in to paradise: It is not fair – it offends our sense of entitlement, our sense of
what is justice.
Jesus lets them all go free, the religious leaders slope off with something to think about, the
adulterous woman is given the shortest and gentlest sermon ever, and in the midst of all
that surely something has to be done to put it right, to fix what is wrong?
I grew up in church believing that God, who is holy, couldn’t stand to be in the presence of
sin, and so I needed to confess my sin, which would be dealt with by Jesus, so that I could
get close to God and God could get close to me.
There’s a certain logic to that which makes it easy for young Christians to believe and
explains the need for confession and salvation, and all that. But it is not very kingdom. In
fact it is not very Jesus. If God can’t stand to be in the presence of sin, then how come the
incarnation happened at all? And when God did dress up in flesh and come amongst us, how
come he does his best to attract all the losers?
And that being the case, and the message of the Gospel being we are forgiven, how come
the church has so universally and for so long – with some notable exceptions that proves the
rule – managed to preach the exact opposite of that message? Instead of saying ‘Jesus loves
you as you are, not as you should be’, we preach: ‘you suck, I’m great, God loves me, you
need to change.’
The sermon series that you are in the midst of is called ‘Encountering Jesus’. The Pharisees
in this story encounter Jesus, the adulterous woman encounters Jesus, we encounter Jesus –
either by reading it or because we really do have a friend who has invented a time machine.
All of us get to walk away condemned (which is not the same as unconcerned) and with
grace ringing in our ears.
So how come there are so many people in the world, people I know, people you know, who
have never encountered this Jesus?
So, all in all, this story reminds me of something that I already know and I suspect you do
too – we have got to get better at telling people: Jesus loves you just as you are, and there is
space in the kingdom for all kinds of losers. To be honest, it’s the winners who seem to be
the biggest problem to the kingdom. But that’s another sermon.
Amen.
The Revd Harry Steele,
Diocese of Sheffield Interim Minister