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Stones.
We’ve all got them. Some of them we know so well, we can
call them by name. They have names like bitterness—we’ve
been carrying that one ever since that girl we once dated
scorned us. Then there is that stone called jealousy—we
carry that one because that guy got paid more or got more
recognition than we did. Then there’s that stone named
revenge—from that time when we were humiliated or
disrespected. How about that stone named anger—the one we
picked when he walked out, or when the doctor gave the
diagnosis, or when we got that pink slip. We carry stones
ready to throw when the bitterness, hate, jealousy,
disappointment or desire for revenge becomes so strong,
we’re not so sure how to respond. We know some of these
stones so well, we know them by name.
But
some stones don’t just have names, they have names on them.
These stones have names on them of people or groups. We
believe if those people or groups weren’t
around…well…things around here would be better.
If old “what’s his name” would just quit, then
things at work would be so much better. If it wasn’t for the
Democrats (or the Republicans), then maybe this country
wouldn’t be headed where it is in that hand basket. And the
church…well, we all have a stone for that one group (you
know that one group). If it wasn’t for “them,” then the
church would really be able to have an impact in the world. If
it wasn’t for “them,” the church would be just as the
good Lord intended it to be, wouldn’t it?
Who
is “them,” anyway? Well, it depends on who the “us”
is. So depending on who “we” are when we are wishing that
“they” would just disappear, “they” are the liberals
or conservatives, the evangelicals or the pluralists, those
who take the Bible as literal or those who take it as more
figurative. No matter who “they” are, we all probably have
a stone somewhere with their name on it.
Stones to
throw. Most of us carry them around with us wherever we go.
Some of the stones have specific names on them, even a face.
The names on other stones may not be so specific. Oh, but the
feeling is just as strong—maybe stronger. They are the
stones we want to hurl at groups (“Those lousy so and so’s.
I wish I had a stone for every one of them.”). And then
there are those bad days when you just want to throw stones at
the world. You don’t care who they hit. In fact, they’re
meant for anyone who gets in the way.
The
stones we hold also have a hold on us. These stones we
carry…we clench them. We grip them tight. Sometimes we
clutch them in our hands as if they are treasures. Sometimes
we sit there, weighted down by the stones we carry. We fumble
around with all our stones as if we couldn’t do without
them, as if in giving them up…even just some of them…we
might lose our very selves. What are we to do with all these
stones?
Our
scripture has something to say to those of us who have stones
to throw. It first suggests that stone throwing is rarely
about what the stone thrower says it’s about in the first
place. In verse 5, the Pharisees and scribes chide Jesus,
saying, “What have you got to say?” Then the
scriptures alert us readers by saying in verse 6 that “they
[the scribes and Pharisees] asked him this as a test, looking
for an accusation to bring against him.” Right there it
tells us what is about to take place is not as it appears.
You
see, for our stone throwers, this whole episode is not really
about the woman. It’s not really about adultery. It’s not
about sin (not hers, at least). It is about Jesus. For these
religious leaders, Jesus is quickly becoming too popular. He
is rocking the boat. He is challenging the status quo. He is
disturbing people’s sense of who is in charge of power,
challenging their very understanding of who God is and whose
God is. These scribes and Pharisees want to be the ones who
will decide who is in and who is out, so they do not
appreciate this itinerant preacher from Nazareth who is
walking around telling sinners, prostitutes, women, foreigners
and tax collectors that there is a place for them in God’s
kingdom. It isn’t Jesus’ call to make, anyway. Who did he
think he was? God?
They
are setting him up, hoping to embarrass him by putting him in
a position to publicly have to choose between the Law of Moses
and the law of Rome. There was a lot at stake in how Jesus
answered that question: “What have you got to say?”
We know from other portions of the scripture that, at the time
of Jesus, Jews no longer had the power to sentence someone to
capital punishment. It was Rome that was the law of the land.
So if Jesus responds that the woman should be stoned, then the
Pharisees and scribes could accuse him of trying to usurp
Roman power. They could brand him a “political agitator,”
a rabble-rouser, forcing the Roman authorities to deal with
him and the movement he was creating. On the other hand, if
Jesus responds that the woman is to be spared, then he is in
direct conflict with the Law of Moses and could be branded as
a blasphemer and a heretic, destroying any credibility he
would have with the Jewish people he was beginning his
movement among. They were sure they had him this time.
Stone
throwing is never about what it appears to be about. The men
don’t care about this woman’s “crime.” They don’t
care about her at all. They are using her for another purpose
all together. They just want to catch Jesus—trip him up,
make him look foolish—and they don’t care who gets caught
up in their agenda. There was no consideration of the human
cost to their scheme. As is often the case, stone throwers are
more than willing to stone someone right on the spot in order
to prove their point.
In this
episode, Jesus exposes the truth about stone throwing. It is
never really about what it appears to be about in the first
place. Stone throwing has so much more to do with those who
throw the stone than it has to do with those whom the stone is
aimed at. We discover that stone throwing is seldom about
God’s righteousness, as much as it is about
self-righteousness.
Eventually,
Jesus exposes that same truth about the stones we carry. He
helps us discover that our stones have more to do with us than
anything they are aimed at. Jesus helps us to understand that
the stones we carry have to do with our own deep-seated anger
and hurts. The stones we carry are our struggles with feeling
powerless or out of control. This story makes us admit that
there are times when we’d much rather throw stones, blame
others, and even hurt others than be honest with ourselves
about why we are carrying the stones in the first place. Stone
throwing is never about what it appears to be about.
Our
scripture tonight exposes stone throwing in another way. This
story makes it clear that in order to stone someone, you can
no longer see them as a human. You certainly cannot see them
as a child of God. To the Pharisees and scribes, this woman is
not fully human. She is not deserving of equal treatment, not
worthy of dignity or respect—and not because of her crime or
because of her sin, but because of her gender. In the first
century Palestinian world, women were not considered fully
human. They were non-persons. They were the property of their
fathers or husbands. Marriage wasn’t something that came
from romance or love, but was more or less a business deal. If
love could be found (as I am sure it sometimes was), it was a
fringe benefit, but not the primary concern. Marriage was
about consolidating property, shoring up tribal or clan
alliances, and producing male heirs to keep lineage, property
and bank accounts in the proper hands.
Unlike
our contemporary world, in Jesus’ time, adultery wasn’t a
major concern because of how it messed with the human heart.
In the first century world, adultery was a considered a crime
because of how it messed with the economic dealings of the
day. A woman caught in adultery was damaged goods, no longer
able to perform her economic function, no longer needed, good
for nothing. Might as well just kill her.
This helps
us understand what’s at stake for the woman in our story.
She is given no name. She has no voice, no story. There is no
concern for the social or religious circumstances that have
put her in this position. She has no identity apart from which
she stands accused (and nobody wants their entire identity to
be determined by a private moment that suddenly ends up in the
public eye). For the stone throwers, she is nobody’s
daughter, nobody’s sister, nobody’s mother. She is a
nobody in the eyes of God. She is only known to them, and too
often to us, as the woman caught in adultery. And as long as
the Pharisees and scribes have their stones, then they believe
they have the power to see her as they want. The stone always
makes her different, makes her the object of their scorn and
ridicule. The stone will always keep them separate, will
always allow them to be blind to who she really is, who they
really are and to what is really going on. As long as people
can be seen as less than human, it just doesn’t matter what
happens to them.
So that is
why what Jesus says to these stone throwers is so radical. It
stops them right in their tracks. “Let the one who is
without sin throw the first stone…” In saying those words,
Jesus asks everyone watching to stand with her in that moment.
In those words, Jesus helps these men connect with this woman
at the only place they can, the only place that each and every
one of us (no matter our race, gender, color or creed) are
able to connect with each other. That place is our brokenness.
By standing
with this woman, Jesus de-objectifies her. He forces them to
be honest about their real motives, forces them to see her as
human, forces them to see themselves as human. And in that
moment of connection, suddenly, one by one, the stones begin
to fall to the ground and the accusers walk away.
That is
what happened in tonight’s drama, isn’t it? The moment
that we realize who the “lousy-no-good-drunken-idiot” is,
everything changes. The moment we hear his story, everything
changes. And just as the young man in that drama is given
another chance to live life differently, so are we.
See,
that’s the thing about a world of stone throwers. Eventually
everybody must get stoned.
Because just as I might be carrying around a stone that
is intended for somebody—some group, some party, some
religion, some race, some nation, some category—I then have
to realize that somebody somewhere is walking around with a
stone they have aimed and ready to throw at some group, some
party, some religion, some race, some nation, some category
that represents me. That’s what happens in a world of stone
throwers. Sooner or later, everybody must get stoned.
But Jesus
offers us a way out of this cycle of stone throwing. Everyone
in the story is offered an opportunity to live life
differently. The woman is invited to participate in a new
future for herself that will allow her to live not as a
condemned woman, but as a freed person. And the scribes and
Pharisees are invited to give up the categories by which they
have defined and attempted to control life. Jesus’ famous
last line from this story is, “Go and sin no more… Go live
your life differently.” It is not just spoken to the
accused, but to the accusers. It is proclaimed to the woman as
well as to the rock throwers. It is proclaimed to all who have
ears to hear. “Go and sin no more. Drop the stones. See
yourself and each other as children of God… Go and live your
life differently.”
“Come on,
it’s not that simple, is it? What am I supposed to do with
these stones I am carrying around? What am I supposed to do
with all this bitterness and jealousy? It’s hard to change,
hard to let go. These stones have become so much of who I am.
I know them and they know me. I am not proud of it. It’s
just the way that I am, and for some reason, it seems so much
safer to cling to my stones than to let them go and trust an
unknown future.”
So what
happens when we drop those stones? What kind of life lies
ahead for us? I don’t know all the details, but let me
suggest two things. First, when we drop those stones we are
carrying—when we leave behind the jealousy, bitterness,
anger and hate from the past—our load becomes a lot lighter.
Second,
when we drop those stones we are carrying, the clenched hands
that have held tight to those stones—held tight to the pain,
clenched in anger and pain—suddenly become open. Open and
ready to receive God’s grace, God’s healing, God’s
mercy.
So
what are we supposed to do with these stones we are carrying
around? I guess what the story says: “Go away and sin no
more.”
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