Go and Sin No More

Gospel Reflection for Passion Sunday, April 6, 2025 - John 8:1-11

And Jesus went unto mount Olivet.

And early in the morning he came again into the temple, and all the people came to him, and sitting down he taught them.

And the scribes and the Pharisees bring unto him a woman taken in adultery: and they set her in the midst,

And said to him: Master, this woman was even now taken in adultery.

Now Moses in the law commanded us to stone such a one. But what sayest thou?

And this they said tempting him, that they might accuse him. But Jesus bowing himself down, wrote with his finger on the ground.

When therefore they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said to them: He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.

And again stooping down, he wrote on the ground.

But they hearing this, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest. And Jesus alone remained, and the woman standing in the midst.

Then Jesus lifting up himself, said to her: Woman, where are they that accused thee? Hath no man condemned thee?

Who said: No man, Lord. And Jesus said: Neither will I condemn thee. Go, and now sin no more. (John 8:1-11 DRA)

Today is the fifth Sunday of Lent, traditionally called Passion Sunday, beginning the two-week period of Passiontide when the Church meditates on the Passion of Christ in preparation for the Holy Triduum. It is also known as Judica Sunday, from the first words of the Introit: “Judge me, O God” (Psalm 42). In light of this tradition, the Gospel reading is an interesting choice, narrating the famous (or infamous) event of Christ and the woman caught in adultery. Last May, I wrote an in-depth analysis of this passage based on the Fathers and Doctors of the Church, but for this reflection, I would like to focus on a specific theme: conversion.

How does this theme relate to our Gospel passage for today? One key is found in the radical (“at the root”) meaning of “conversion”: the act of turning around or revolving; revolution. Ultimately, conversion is a revolution of the mind, heart and life of the person, a fundamental change from how you previously thought, what choices you made and how you lived your life. The woman brought to Our Lord in this passage is in desperate need of conversion. She has committed an act (at least one, if not more) which is not only in violation of the Old Testament law but of the natural law, of God’s eternal law written in our very nature and knowable intuitively by all (synderesis). Now, Christ calls her to radical conversion, to go back to the roots of her identity as a member of the Old Covenant and to her God-given nature as a free human person called to live a life of virtue and holiness. And, by Christ’s mercy and instruction, she was (presumably) enabled to be so converted.

But, as we all likely know, this is not the way “the woman caught in adultery” tends to be read today. Many Christians, including homilists and Bible scholars, will instead say: Jesus doesn’t judge her and she has no need to convert. He simply overlooks her sin, excuses her from all punishment and lets her go on her way, understanding the difficulties of her life that likely led to her “unfortunate mistakes.” In this way, it is said, He effectively overturned the requirements of the Law, dispensing the woman from its legislated punishments and, by extension, freeing all of us from the burden of the Law with its “legalism” and ethic of “reward and punishment.” Now, we are free to live positively, to do good without being weighed down with the guilt of sin, since Christ understands that we are “only human” and can’t help but sin sometimes, yet He chooses not to hold this against us. Some will even interpret this passage as a sign of the misogyny of ancient people, while Jesus acts as a proto-feminist, defending a woman against her male accusers.

Hopefully, this will not be the homily you hear today, though sadly some of you probably will and it certainly isn’t hard to find this kind of interpretation from others. But did Christ really intend, as the Author of Scripture, for us to take it this way? Did He really come “to destroy” the Law, or “to fulfill” it? (Mt 5:17) If the restrictions and penalties of the Ten Commandments, as the divine expression of the natural law, are no longer applicable to us, should anything be prohibited?

The alternative name of this day, Judica Sunday, helps to answer these questions, ones which go to the root of many problems in modern culture and even in the Church, where sin is often treated more like an unfortunate mental illness for which one has little or no culpability rather than a violation of God’s Law and the perfection He intends for us. At times, Christ can seem to contradict Himself on this point, sometimes saying, “Judge not, that you may not be judged,” (Mt 7:1) and “And if any man hear my words, and keep them not, I do not judge him: for I came not to judge the world, but to save the world.” (Jn 12:47) But He will also say, “Judge not according to the appearance, but judge just judgment.” (Jn 7:24) And: “He that despiseth me, and receiveth not my words, hath one that judgeth him; the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last day.” (Jn 12:48)

An important word in today’s Gospel can help to clear up these apparent contradictions. Christ tells the woman, “Neither will I condemn thee.” To judge is different than to condemn. Judgment can be done rightly or wrongly, with “just judgment” not biased by any prejudice or emotion but founded on the truth, or with judging “according to the flesh” (Jn 8:15) out of pride and subjective standards of justice. But only God has the right to condemn. Even those human authorities given the power by God to judge others according to civil law (Prov 8:16; Rom 13:1) can only condemn the body, not the soul. But when we condemn others for their sins, withholding the possibility of our forgiveness from them, we presume to damn them to Hell, usurping an authority that belongs to God alone and which He reserves until our particular judgment in the afterlife. This is why Christ says that His Word will judge “in the last day”, while in this life, He gives us time (though how much time we cannot know) to be converted.

Christ did not condemn the woman caught in adultery because, as God, He alone has the power to read minds and hearts. Even without her vocal confession, which is ordinarily required for us, He knew that she was contrite for her grave sin and wished to be converted, and in His mercy which does not contradict justice but surpasses it, He did not condemn her. But He did indeed judge her: by telling her to “sin no more,” He identified her adultery as sin and warned her to refrain from it in the future, lest “in the last day” she might face the condemnation which she escaped today. In this way, He did not withhold from her the gift of shame which reminds her of her dignity as made in God’s image and the supernatural end of beatification for which she was created.

Today, Judica Sunday, we are all reminded of this great and terrible truth: “But I say unto you, that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall render an account for it in the day of judgment.” (Mt 12:36) No matter how comfortable, easy, popular or wealthy our lives may seem in this world, no matter how often it appears that people have escaped from the consequences of their sins, in the end this is only an illusion: we cannot escape God’s justice, and while this can and should cause us some fear, it is also a cause of joy in the consolation that the rampant injustice of this life is not final.

For an atheist, there is no hope of justice – people live how they wish, committing horrific evils (or whatever the atheist deems to be evil) while receiving no punishment, nor do the people they wrong receive any reparation, and this is the last word on the subject. But as Christians, we know that God cannot be outrun: we cannot flee from the light of truth which He will shine on all of us, revealing everything we think has been kept secret, our private sins which we cherish but fear to be seen by others, just as the Egyptians were unable to escape the waters of the Red Sea as they chased the Hebrews through it.

Lent is a time to face our demons, to repent of our sins and be converted to Christ, who does not want to condemn us but to forgive us, yet He is also not a tyrant. We can only be forgiven if we freely repent and do penance for our wicked deeds. Rather than using the woman caught in adultery as an excuse to justify, “tolerate” and even bless sins, may we learn from her that Christ is always waiting in eagerness to show us His infinite mercy, if only we will forsake the worldliness and slavery to the flesh which lead to nothing but misery – in this life or in eternity. Just as the Cross is a constant reminder of our sinfulness, it is also, and much more, a sign of God’s love for us. May this Passion Sunday help us remember the Cross of Christ and keep its lessons in our hearts.

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