Spark of beauty and humanism, or no future

(Jn 8:12-20)

In all religions the term Light is used as a metaphor for the forces of good.

On the lips of Jesus [present in his intimates] the same word stands for a fulfilment of humanity (even of the religious institution) according to the divine plan, recognisable in his own Person.

The distinction between light and darkness in Christ is somehow not comparable to the more conventional dualist binomial - about good and evil. The Creator's activity is multifaceted.

The evangelical term therefore does not designate any static fixed judgement on what is usually assessed as 'torch' or 'shadow', 'correct' or 'wrong' and so on.

There is room for new perceptions and reworkings. Nor are we always called upon to fight against everything else, and the passions.

Classical moral, pious or general religious evaluations must be overcome, because they remain on the surface and do not grasp the core of being and becoming humanising.

Not infrequently, the most valuable things arise precisely from what disturbs standardised thinking.

The same mind that believes it is only in the light is a one-sided, partial, sick mind; bound to an idea, therefore poor.

God knows that it is the incompletenesses that launch the Exodus, it can be the insecurities that keep us from crashing into the patterns... that make us lose who we are.

In fact, the energies that invest created reality have an entirely positive potential root.

Sunsets prepare other paths, ambivalences give the 'la' to impossible recoveries and growths.

"Light" was in Judaism the term that designated the righteous path of humanity according to the Law, without eccentricity or decline.

But with Jesus, it is no longer the Torah that acts as a guide, but life itself [Jn 1:4: "Life was the Light of men"] that is characterised by its varying complexity.

Thus, even the "world" - that is, (in Jn) first and foremost the complex of the institution (so pious and devout) now installed and corrupted: it must return to a more wise Guide, one that illuminates real existence.

The appeal that Scripture addresses to us is very practical and concrete.

But in contexts with a strong structure of mediation between God and man, spirituality often tends towards the legalism of customary fulfilments.

Jesus is not for grand parades, nor for solutions that cloak people's lives in mysticism, escapism, rituals or abstinence.

All of this was perhaps also the fabric of much of medieval spirituality - and the assiduous, ritualistic, beghine spirituality of days gone by.

But in the Bible, God's servants do not have haloes. They are women and men normally inserted in society, people who know the problems of everyday life: work, family, bringing up children....

The professionals of the sacred, on the other hand, try to put a pretty dress on very ungodly things - sometimes cunning minds and perverse hearts. Cultivated behind the magnificent respectability of screens and incense.

To do this, Jesus understands that he must drive out both merchants and customers (Jn 2:13-25) and supplant the fatuous glow of the great sanctuary.

During the Feast of Tabernacles, huge street lamps were lit in the courtyards of the Temple in Jerusalem.

One of the main rituals consisted in staging an admirable night procession with lit fairies - and in making the great lamps shine (they rose above the walls and illuminated the whole of Jerusalem).

It was the appropriate context to proclaim the very Person of Christ as the authentic sacred and humanising Word, the place of encounter with God and the torch of life. There was nothing external and rhetorical about it.

But in that "holy world" marked by the intertwining of epic, religion, power and interest, the Master stands out - with contrary evidence - precisely in the place of the Treasury (the real centre of gravity of the Temple, v.20) as the true and only Extreme Point that pierces the darkness.

The Lord invites us to make our own his own sharply missionary path: from the shrine of stone to the heart of flesh, as free as that of the Father.

Clear call and intimate question that never goes out: we feel it burning alive without being consumed.

There is no need to fear: the Envoy is not alone. He does not testify to himself, nor to his own foibles or utopian derangements: his Calling by Name becomes divine Presence - Origin, Path, authentic "Return".

Do we look like pilgrims and exiles who do not know how to be in "the world"? But each of us is (in Faith) like Him-and-the-Father: overwhelming majority.

By Faith, in the authentic Light: Dawn, Support, Friendship and unequivocal, invincible leap, which rips through the haze.

It bursts from the core, assuming the same shadows and being reborn; bringing our dark sides alongside the roots.

Intimate place and time (outside of all ages) from which the outgoing Church springs forth: here it is from the jewels and sacristies, to the peripheries Spark of beauty and humanism, or without a future

And from the sacred society of the outside, to the hidden Pearl that genuinely connects the present with the 'timelessness' of the Free - even if here and there it undermines so much theology with its preceptistic, greedy and cunning meaning, neither plural nor transparent.

In the end, it is all simple: the full wellbeing and integrity of man is more important than the one-sided 'good' of doctrine and institution - which advocates it without even believing in it.

To internalise and live the message:

In what situations do I consider myself a "Witness"?

What is the torch in my steps? Who is my Present Light?

In all churches, in cathedrals and religious houses, wherever the faithful gather to celebrate the Easter Vigil, that holiest of all nights begins with the lighting of the Paschal candle, whose light is then passed on to all who are present. One tiny flame spreads out to become many lights and fills the darkness of God’s house with its brightness. This wonderful liturgical rite, which we have imitated in our prayer vigil tonight, reveals to us in signs more eloquent than words the mystery of our Christian faith. He, Christ, who says of himself: “I am the light of the world” (Jn 8:12), causes our lives to shine brightly, so that what we have just heard in the Gospel comes true: “You are the light of the world” (Mt 5:14). It is not our human efforts or the technical progress of our era that brings light into this world. Again and again we experience how our striving to bring about a better and more just world hits against its limits. Innocent suffering and the ultimate fact of death awaiting every single person are an impenetrable darkness which may perhaps, through fresh experiences, be lit up for a moment, as if through a flash of lightning at night. In the end, though, a frightening darkness remains.

While all around us there may be darkness and gloom, yet we see a light: a small, tiny flame that is stronger than the seemingly powerful and invincible darkness. Christ, risen from the dead, shines in this world and he does so most brightly in those places where, in human terms, everything is sombre and hopeless. He has conquered death – he is alive – and faith in him, like a small light, cuts through all that is dark and threatening. To be sure, those who believe in Jesus do not lead lives of perpetual sunshine, as though they could be spared suffering and hardship, but there is always a bright glimmer there, lighting up the path that leads to fullness of life (cf. Jn 10:10). The eyes of those who believe in Christ see light even amid the darkest night and they already see the dawning of a new day.

Light does not remain alone. All around, other lights are flaring up. In their gleam, space acquires contours, so that we can find our bearings. We do not live alone in this world. And it is for the important things of life that we have to rely on other people. Particularly in our faith, then, we do not stand alone, we are links in the great chain of believers. Nobody can believe unless he is supported by the faith of others, and conversely, through my faith, I help to strengthen others in their faith. We help one another to set an example, we give others a share in what is ours: our thoughts, our deeds, our affections. And we help one another to find our bearings, to work out where we stand in society.

Dear friends, the Lord says: “I am the light of the world – you are the light of the world.” It is mysterious and wonderful that Jesus applies the same predicate to himself and to all of us together, namely “light”. If we believe that he is the Son of God, who healed the sick and raised the dead, who rose from the grave himself and is truly alive, then we can understand that he is the light, the source of all the lights of this world. On the other hand, we experience more and more the failure of our efforts and our personal shortcomings, despite our good intentions. In the final analysis, the world in which we live, in spite of its technical progress, does not seem to be getting any better. There is still war and terror, hunger and disease, bitter poverty and merciless oppression. And even those figures in our history who saw themselves as “bringers of light”, but without being fired by Christ, the one true light, did not manage to create an earthly paradise, but set up dictatorships and totalitarian systems, in which even the smallest spark of true humanity is choked.

At this point we cannot remain silent about the existence of evil. We see it in so many places in this world; but we also see it – and this scares us – in our own lives. Truly, within our hearts there is a tendency towards evil, there is selfishness, envy, aggression. Perhaps with a certain self-discipline all this can to some degree be controlled. But it becomes more difficult with faults that are somewhat hidden, that can engulf us like a thick fog, such as sloth, or laziness in willing and doing good. Again and again in history, keen observers have pointed out that damage to the Church comes not from her opponents, but from uncommitted Christians. “You are the light of the world”: only Christ can say: “I am the light of the world.”  All of us can be light only if we stand within the “you” that, through the Lord, is forever becoming light.  And just as the Lord warns us that salt can become tasteless, so too he weaves a gentle warning into his saying about light.  Instead of placing the light on a lampstand, one can hide it under a bushel.  Let us ask ourselves: how often do we hide God’s light through our sloth, through our stubbornness, so that it cannot shine out through us into the world?

Dear friends, Saint Paul in many of his letters does not shrink from calling his contemporaries, members of the local communities, “saints”. Here it becomes clear that every baptized person – even before he or she can accomplish good works – is sanctified by God. In baptism the Lord, as it were, sets our life alight with what the Catechism calls sanctifying grace. Those who watch over this light, who live by grace, are holy.

Dear friends, again and again the very notion of saints has been caricatured and distorted, as if to be holy meant to be remote from the world, naive and joyless. Often it is thought that a saint has to be someone with great ascetic and moral achievements, who might well be revered, but could never be imitated in our own lives. How false and discouraging this opinion is! There is no saint, apart from the Blessed Virgin Mary, who has not also known sin, who has never fallen. Dear friends, Christ is not so much interested in how often in our lives we stumble and fall, as in how often with his help we pick ourselves up again. He does not demand glittering achievements, but he wants his light to shine in you. He does not call you because you are good and perfect, but because he is good and he wants to make you his friends. Yes, you are the light of the world because Jesus is your light. You are Christians – not because you do special and extraordinary things, but because he, Christ, is your life, our life. You are holy, we are holy, if we allow his grace to work in us.

Dear friends, this evening as we gather in prayer around the one Lord, we sense the truth of Christ’s saying that the city built on a hilltop cannot remain hidden. This gathering shines in more ways than one – in the glow of innumerable lights, in the radiance of so many young people who believe in Christ. A candle can only give light if it lets itself be consumed by the flame. It would remain useless if its wax failed to nourish the fire. Allow Christ to burn in you, even at the cost of sacrifice and renunciation. Do not be afraid that you might lose something and, so to speak, emerge empty-handed at the end. Have the courage to apply your talents and gifts for God’s kingdom and to give yourselves – like candlewax – so that the Lord can light up the darkness through you. Dare to be glowing saints, in whose eyes and hearts the love of Christ beams and who thus bring light to the world. I am confident that you and many other young people here in Germany are lamps of hope that do not remain hidden. “You are the light of the world”. Where God is, there is a future! Amen.

[Pope Benedict, Vigil in Freiburg 24 September 2011]+

4. The aspiration that humanity nurtures, amid countless injustices and sufferings, is the hope of a new civilization marked by freedom and peace. But for such an undertaking, a new generation of builders is needed. Moved not by fear or violence but by the urgency of genuine love, they must learn to build, brick by brick, the city of God within the city of man.

Allow me, dear young people, to consign this hope of mine to you: you must be those "builders"! You are the men and women of tomorrow. The future is in your hearts and in your hands. God is entrusting to you the task, at once difficult and uplifting, of working with him in the building of the civilization of love.

5. From the Letter of John – the youngest of the apostles, and maybe for that very reason the most loved by the Lord – we have listened to these words: "God is light and in him there is no darkness at all" (1 Jn1:5). But, John observes, no one has ever seen God. It is Jesus, the only Son of the Father, who has revealed him to us (cf. Jn 1:18). And if Jesus has revealed God, he has revealed the light. With Christ in fact "the true light that enlightens every man" (Jn 1:9) has come into the world.

Dear young people, let yourselves be taken over by the light of Christ, and spread that light wherever you are. "The light of the countenance of Jesus – says the Catechism of the Catholic Church – illumines the eyes of our heart and teaches us to see everything in the light of his truth and his compassion for all" (No. 2715).

If your friendship with Christ, your knowledge of his mystery, your giving of yourselves to him, are genuine and deep, you will be "children of the light", and you will become "the light of the world". For this reason I repeat to you the Gospel words: "Let your light so shine before others, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven" (Mt 5:16).

[Pope John Paul II, Vigil at Downsview WYD Toronto 27 July 2002]

This passage from the Gospel of John (cf. 12:44-50) shows us the intimacy there was between Jesus and the Father. Jesus did what the Father told Him to do. And therefore He says: “He who believes in me, believes not in me but in Him who sent me” (v. 44). He then explains His mission: “I have come as light into the world, that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness” (v. 46). He presents himself as light. Jesus’s mission is to enlighten: light. He himself said: “I am the light of the world” (Jn 8:12). The Prophet Isaiah prophesied this light: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light” (9:1). The promise of the light that will enlighten the people. And the mission of the Apostles too was to bring light. Paul said to King Agrippa: “I was chosen to enlighten, to bring this light – which is not mine, but another’s – but to bring light” (cf. Acts 26:18). It is Jesus’s mission: to bring light. And the mission of the Apostles was to bring the light of Jesus. To enlighten. Because the world was in darkness.

But the tragedy of Jesus’s light is that it was rejected. From the beginning of the Gospel, John said it clearly: “He came to His own home, and His own people did not welcome Him. They loved darkness more than light' (cf. Jn 1:9-11). Being accustomed to darkness, living in darkness: they did not know how to accept the light, they could not; they were slaves to darkness. And this would be Jesus’s continuous battle: to enlighten, to bring the light that shows things as they are, as they exist; it shows freedom, it shows truth, it shows the path on which to go with the light of Jesus.

Paul had this experience of the passage from darkness to light, when the Lord encountered him on the road to Damascus. He was blinded. Blind. The Lord’s light blinded him. And then, when a few days had passed, with baptism, he regained the light (cf. Acts 9:1-19). He had this experience of passing from darkness, in which he was, to the light. And our passage too, which we received sacramentally in Baptism: for this reason Baptism was called, in the first centuries, the Illumination (cf. Saint Justin, Apology I, 61, 12), because it gave you the light, it “let it enter” you. For this reason, in the ceremony of Baptism we give a lit blessed candle, a lit candle to the mother and father, because the little boy or the little girl is enlightened.

Jesus brings light. But the people, His people rejected it. They were so accustomed to the darkness that the light blinded them, they did not know where to go… (cf. Jn 1:1-11). And this is the tragedy of our sin: sin blinds us and we cannot tolerate the light. Our eyes are sick. And Jesus clearly states it in the Gospel of Matthew: “If your eye is not sound, your whole body will be unsound. If your eye sees only darkness, how great is the darkness within you!” (cf. Mt 6:22-23). Darkness… And conversion is passing from darkness to light.

But what are the things that sicken the eyes, the eyes of faith? Our eyes are ill: what are the things that “drag them down”, that blind them? Vices, the worldly spirit, pride. The vices that “drag you down” and also these three things – vices, pride, the worldly spirit – lead you to associate with others in order to remain secure in the darkness. We often speak of “mafias”: this is it. But there are “spiritual mafias”; there are “domestic mafias”, always, seeking someone else so as to cover yourself and remain in darkness. It is not easy to live in the light. The light shows many ugly things within us that we do not want to see: vices, sins… Let us think about our vices; let us think about our pride; let us think about our worldly spirit: These things blind us; they distance us from Jesus’s light.

But if we start to think about these things, we will not find a wall, no. We will find a way out, because Jesus Himself says that He is the light, and also: “I have come into the world not to condemn the world, but to save the world” (cf. Jn 12:46-47). Jesus Himself, the light, says: “Take courage: let yourself be enlightened; let yourself see what you have within, because I have come to lead you forth, to save you. I do not condemn you. I save you” (cf. v. 47). The Lord saves us from the darkness we have within, from the darkness of daily life, of social life, of political life, of national, international life… There is so much darkness within. And the Lord saves us. But He asks us to see them, first; to have the courage to see our darkness so that the Lord's light may enter and save us.

Let us not fear the Lord: He is very good; He is meek; He is close to us. He has come to save us. Let us not be afraid of the light of Jesus.

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily 6 May 2020]

(Jn 8:1-11)

Every day at sunrise, from the Mount of Olives, by contemplating the Temple, the people recited the Shema’ Israel, and so did Jesus.

Like many, he spent his nights in a cave, outdoors (Lk 21:37-38; Jn 8:1-2), then he went to Solomon's portico to teach.

A new Day begins. The confrontation with the sinful woman who represents us, activates a new Aurora.

The adulterer and the adulteress had to be put to death (Dt 22:22-24): why is no there the male accomplice one?

In many biblical passages, the 'woman' is a collective parable - here evoked for a catechesis against the traditionalist prosecutors who were also coming forward in the early communities.

[They don’t sleep at night, in order to spy on others and accuse them of their sins]. But there is a new ‘dawn’ (v.2) on the face of God.

In the whole scene the true accused is Jesus and his idea of ​​Justice, irregular. He doesn’t allow the “gendarmes” to isolate persons.

Whoever makes a mistake or is unsteady, isn’t marked for life.

We are bent over by weights and can hardly stand up. Therefore, divine action unmasks the old fanatical wigs, not at all innocent.

The conciliatory and reflexive attitude turns the accusations right back on the veterans of the rules, who let the stones fall from their hands only when unmasked.

However, it’s a theology passage, not a gossip piece.

In bygone leaders who like to organize trials even internal ones, there is sometimes no honesty: it’s better that in the House of God they avoid being judges and accusers, and go back to their homes.

Incredible then that Jesus doesn’t make sure that the woman is repentant, before forgiving her! In this the Son of God violates the Law, Tradition, the common way of thinking and teaching catechism!

His most incriminated sentence is a bomb, which has created embarrassment for centuries: «Stop hurting yourself, but I do not condemn you!»"  [sense of v.11].

The ‘living’ and true God proceeds without inquiries and penitential torments: he puts us back on our feet.

Therefore He doesn’t want to have anything in common with the unexceptionable who cunningly shield themselves with ancient norms to annoy (and project their own defects onto others, in order to exorcise them).

That’s why the Lord’s Finger on the ‘stone slabs’ of the esplanade of the Jerusalem’s Temple!

A clear accusation to the censors still accustomed to the Decalogue of the No […], who remained at the age of Sinai: opinionated and deadly ones, devoid of the flesh and Spirit ‘heart’ - corpses calibrated at room temperature.

Throughout the scene, Jesus - figure of the new Justice of the Father - remains crouched on the ground [cf. Greek text], threatened by those who are on top of him to accuse or take him hostage.

He remains subjected even to the adulteress reduced to silence, because the request for mercy is authentic even when it remains only implicit.

And in any case, Christ relates to each of us without incumbent upon. Looking at us all from below!

Here is the difference between Faith approach and assessments of trivial religiosity. The qualitative leap between Finger on the stone slabs, and the Looking on the persons.

To internalize and live the message:

In what situations did you consider: "Justice is done"?

On what occasions have you experienced divine judgment as understanding and mercy?

 [5th ​​Sunday in Lent (year C), 6 April 2025]

Adulterous ‘church’, accused Jesus

(Jn 8:1-11)

What about an ancient codex of the Gospels with a torn 'page'?

Husbands did not want women to have a license of immunity from the Lord himself: God's action baffles.

But how does the Lord deal with those who have made mistakes in life? Or with people of a different cultural background [e.g.] from the West?

Can they be admitted to a direct relationship with Jesus, or must they undergo a long rigmarole of doctrinal and moralistic x-rays?

Christ proceeds without enquiries or accusatory penitential tares.

He only puts people and heterogeneous groups back on their feet - albeit all humiliated and mocked souls by the veterans of the post-war (who secretly concede everything).

He imposes - and chisels - Justice where it has been transgressed, at least in our conventional opinion.

The only solution and judgement is that for the Good that is reliable and convincing.

In Ephesus, bishop Polycrates had had to clash with the intransigents on the issue of the readmission into the community of the lapsi ['slipped' in the confession of faith, under blackmail] or of those who had 'surrendered' the sacred books (traditores) because intimidated by threats of persecution.

The bishop of Rome, Sotère, had taken a position in favour of the rigorists. But as the Apostolic Constitutions testify, the more sympathetic ones referred explicitly to the episode of the adulteress, bearing in mind that God's action is a creative act that recomposes - not a gesture of hasty punishment.

Having disappeared from the Gospel according to Lk (cf. 21:38), the Gospel pearl was recovered by Jn (8:1-11).

Still St. Augustine complained that the passage was excluded by leaders of some communities.

But overcoming petty moralisms, the pericope has significant theological weight.

In religions, the idea of divine justice is identical, because it is in harmony with the concept of common justice: unicuique Jus suum.

On all ancient Egyptian sarcophagi is reproduced the scene of the scales with two plates in perfect balance: on one the feather symbol of Maat goddess of wisdom; on the other the heart of the deceased, who is led by the hand by the god Anubis.

On the weighing depends the future happiness or ruin of the one being judged.

The Qur'an attributes to God the splendid title of 'Best of those who forgive'; yet even in Islam, the Day of Judgement is the moment of separation between the righteous and the wicked - the one ushered into paradise, the other cast into hell.

The rabbis of Jesus' time held that Mercy intervened at the moment of reckoning: it prevailed only when good and evil deeds were equal.

The adulterer and adulteress were to be put to death (Deut 22:22-24): how come the male escaped?

In many Bible passages, the 'woman' is a collective parable - here evoked for a catechesis against the traditionalist prosecutors who were also coming forward in the early communities.

The trouble with moral courts is that too many protagonists seem more inclined to condemn 'symbols' than to get to the bottom of matters.

Despite the strict penitential practices of the early centuries and the controversy between laxists and strictists, the gemstone recovered and previously removed from many manuscripts reiterates the incriminating phrase: 'I do not condemn you'!

And it even portrays a Jesus who does not ask beforehand whether the woman was repentant or not!

Shocking episode? No, because this is theology, not news reporting.

Every day at sunrise the people from the Mount of Olives contemplating the Temple recited the Shemàh, and so did Jesus.

Like many, he spent the nights in a cave, in the open air (Lk 21:37-38; Jn 8:1-2), then went to the Temple to teach.

Another "Day" begins.

The confrontation with the sinner who represents us, begins a new 'dawn' - on the Face of God.

What sentence does the Lord pronounce in his House [Church]?

We are not told what Jesus was teaching, for he himself is 'the' Word, the Teaching.

Every gesture tells how the Father relates to the one who has strayed, or comes from an uncertain background.

He helps the lost son to recover, and says [in short]: 'I do not condemn you, but stop hurting yourself'.

Jesus crosses the bridge-viaduct over the Cedron valley and enters the temple esplanade through the Golden Gate.

There he finds hearts firm to the retributive justice of Sinai, that of the cold stone tablets.

Justice of the scribes and Pharisees of the vice squad who - pressing - were standing over him [so the Greek text].

Justice of scales and synhedrums? No, Benevolence that makes the wicked righteous, that makes pure those who draw near - those from multiform paganism, considered theological adulterers.'Justice is done' for us means that the guilty are straightened out, punished and separated from the unrighteous.

God, on the other hand, makes righteous the once unrighteous. He precisely retrieves the wretch from the abyss, and gives him breath.

[Perhaps the woman is a symbolic image of a subordinate primitive community, coming to Faith but with mixed cultural origins and uncertain practices, judged to be tumultuously free].

Forgiveness is not a defeat, nor a surrender. After all, there is no shortage of those who shield themselves with laws to annoy and hide behind screens.

In short: the real defendant of the pericope is the Son and his idea of Justice!

Hence the Finger on the ground: resting on the stone slabs of the Jerusalem temple esplanade.

A very serious accusation against the spiritual guides of official religiosity and all those who, having become leaders of the first Christian realities, immediately intended to replicate their hypocrisies.

Inebriated by the rank of leaders and censors, they too manifested that they had remained in the Sinaitic, stone age.

An age of old supponents devoid of the heart of flesh, estranged from the warmth of the divine Spirit.

Indeed, not a few manuscripts from the early centuries show the obsessive communitarian attachment to a rigid ethical discipline.

There was a risk of a return to the ideology of the 'best': a ruthless and gabellant, icy and judgmental, chastising school; confusing about the passions - that of the 'chosen' and 'whole'.

Acolytes proponents of death; corpses incapable of fiery desire, of explicit passion; because - at least in façade - calibrated to room temperature.

Instead, throughout the scene Jesus remains crouched on the ground!

He even stands in relation to the adulteress looking up at her from below (cf. Greek text)!

He remains subjected even to the adulteress, the icon precisely of an uncertain or 'lesser' church - which gathers together the formerly distant free ones. The same ones who now approach the threshold of the fraternities with a past and perhaps questionable moral baggage.

In short, every demand for mercy is authentic even when it remains only implicit - and in any case Christ relates to each one of us without looming!

In the life of Faith, God stands beneath us, and so do those who authentically represent Him.

The Eternal One is not a legislator, nor a weigher, nor a plaintiff - not even a notary judge who passes sentence at once.

In this way and 'lapidary' tone, Pope Francis has repeatedly said:

"I prefer a Church that is bumpy, wounded and dirty from being out on the streets, rather than a Church that is sick from being closed and comfortable clinging to its own security. I consider missteps less serious than not moving at all!".

The difference between Faith's approach and the assessments of mundane religiosity? The qualitative leap between Finger on the Plate and Looking at People.

To internalise and live the message:

In what situations have you considered, "Justice is done"?

On what occasions have you experienced divine Judgement as understanding and grace?

The Gospel passage recounts the episode of the adulterous woman in two vivid scenes:  in the first, we witness a dispute between Jesus and the scribes and Pharisees concerning a woman caught in flagrant adultery who, in accordance with the prescriptions of the Book of Leviticus (cf. 20: 10), was condemned to stoning. In the second scene, a brief but moving dialogue develops between Jesus and the sinner-woman. The pitiless accusers of the woman, citing the law of Moses, provoke Jesus - they call him "Teacher" (Didáskale) -, asking him whether it would be right to stone her. They were aware of his mercy and his love for sinners and were curious to see how he would manage in such a case which, according to Mosaic law, was crystal clear. But Jesus immediately took the side of the woman. In the first place, he wrote mysterious words on the ground, which the Evangelist does not reveal but which impressed him, and Jesus then spoke the sentence that was to become famous:  "Let him who is without sin among you (he uses the term anamártetos here, which is the only time it appears in the New Testament) be the first to throw a stone at her" (Jn 8: 7) and begin the stoning. St Augustine noted, commenting on John's Gospel, that:  "The Lord, in his response, neither failed to respect the law nor departed from his meekness". And Augustine added that with these words, Jesus obliged the accusers to look into themselves, to examine themselves to see whether they too were sinners. Thus, "pierced through as if by a dart as big as a beam, one after another, they all withdrew" (in Io. Ev. tract 33, 5). 

So it was, therefore, that the accusers who had wished to provoke Jesus went away one by one, "beginning with the eldest to the last". When they had all left, the divine Teacher remained alone with the woman. St Augustine's comment is concise and effective:  "relicti sunt duo:  misera et Misericordia, the two were left alone, the wretched woman and Mercy" (ibid.). Let us pause, dear brothers and sisters, to contemplate this scene where the wretchedness of man and Divine Mercy come face to face, a woman accused of a grave sin and the One who, although he was sinless, burdened himself with our sins, the sins of the whole world. The One who had bent down to write in the dust, now raised his eyes and met those of the woman. He did not ask for explanations. Is it not ironic when he asked the woman:  "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?" (8: 10). And his reply was overwhelming:  "neither do I condemn you; go, and do not sin again" (8: 11). Again, St Augustine in his Commentary observed:  "The Lord did also condemn, but condemned sins, not man. For if he were a patron of sin, he would say, "neither will I condemn you; go, live as you will; be secure in my deliverance; however much you sin, I will deliver you from all punishment'. He said not this" (Io Ev. tract. 33, 6). 

Dear friends, from the Word of God we have just heard emerge practical instructions for our life. Jesus does not enter into a theoretical discussion with his interlocutors on this section of Mosaic Law; he is not concerned with winning an academic dispute about an interpretation of Mosaic Law, but his goal is to save a soul and reveal that salvation is only found in God's love. This is why he came down to the earth, this is why he was to die on the Cross and why the Father was to raise him on the third day. Jesus came to tell us that he wants us all in Paradise and that hell, about which little is said in our time, exists and is eternal for those who close their hearts to his love.
In this episode too, therefore, we understand that our real enemy is attachment to sin, which can lead us to failure in our lives. Jesus sent the adulterous woman away with this recommendation:  "Go, and do not sin again". He forgives her so that "from now on" she will sin no more. In a similar episode, that of the repentant woman, a former sinner whom we come across in Luke's Gospel (cf. 7: 36-50), he welcomed a woman who had repented and sent her peacefully on her way. Here, instead, the adulterous woman simply receives an unconditional pardon. In both cases - for the repentant woman sinner and for the adulterous woman - the message is the same. In one case it is stressed that there is no forgiveness without the desire for forgiveness, without opening the heart to forgiveness; here it is highlighted that only divine forgiveness and divine love received with an open and sincere heart give us the strength to resist evil and "to sin no more", to let ourselves be struck by God's love so that it becomes our strength. Jesus' attitude thus becomes a model to follow for every community, which is called to make love and forgiveness the vibrant heart of its life.

[Pope Benedict, homily 25 March 2007]

14. Jesus enters into the concrete and historical situation of women, a situation which is weighed down by the inheritance of sin. One of the ways in which this inheritance is expressed is habitual discrimination against women in favour of men. This inheritance is rooted within women too. From this point of view the episode of the woman "caught in adultery" (cf. Jn 8:3-11) is particularly eloquent. In the end Jesus says to her: "Do not sin again", but first he evokes an awareness of sin in the men who accuse her in order to stone her, thereby revealing his profound capacity to see human consciences and actions in their true light. Jesus seems to say to the accusers: Is not this woman, for all her sin, above all a confirmation of your own transgressions, of your "male" injustice, your misdeeds?

This truth is valid for the whole human race. The episode recorded in the Gospel of John is repeated in countless similar situations in every period of history. A woman is left alone, exposed to public opinion with "her sin", while behind "her" sin there lurks a man - a sinner, guilty "of the other's sin", indeed equally responsible for it. And yet his sin escapes notice, it is passed over in silence: he does not appear to be responsible for "the others's sin"! Sometimes, forgetting his own sin, he even makes himself the accuser, as in the case described. How often, in a similar way, the woman pays for her own sin (maybe it is she, in some cases, who is guilty of the "others's sin" - the sin of the man), but she alone pays and she pays all alone! How often is she abandoned with her pregnancy, when the man, the child's father, is unwilling to accept responsibility for it? And besides the many "unwed mothers" in our society, we also must consider all those who, as a result of various pressures, even on the part of the guilty man, very often "get rid of" the child before it is born. "They get rid of it": but at what price? Public opinion today tries in various ways to "abolish" the evil of this sin. Normally a woman's conscience does not let her forget that she has taken the life of her own child, for she cannot destroy that readiness to accept life which marks her "ethos" from the "beginning".

The attitude of Jesus in the episode described in John 8:3-11 is significant. This is one of the few instances in which his power - the power of truth - is so clearly manifested with regard to human consciences. Jesus is calm, collected and thoughtful. As in the conversation with the Pharisees (cf. Mt 19:3-9), is Jesus not aware of being in contact with the mystery of the "beginning", when man was created male and female, and the woman was entrusted to the man with her feminine distinctiveness, and with her potential for motherhood? The man was also entrusted by the Creator to the woman - they were entrusted to each other as persons made in the image and likeness of God himself. This entrusting is the test of love, spousal love. In order to become "a sincere gift" to one another, each of them has to feel responsible for the gift. This test is meant for both of them - man and woman - from the "beginning". After original sin, contrary forces are at work in man and woman as a result of the threefold concupiscence, the "stimulus of sin". They act from deep within the human being. Thus Jesus will say in the Sermon on the Mount: "Every one who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart" (Mt 5:28). These words, addressed directly to man, show the fundamental truth of his responsibility vis-a-vis woman: her dignity, her motherhood, her vocation. But indirectly these words concern the woman. Christ did everything possible to ensure that - in the context of the customs and social relationships of that time - women would find in his teaching and actions their own subjectivity and dignity. On the basis of the eternal "unity of the two", this dignity directly depends on woman herself, as a subject responsible for herself, and at the same time it is "given as a task" to man. Christ logically appeals to man's responsibility. In the present meditation on women's dignity and vocation, it is necessary that we refer to the context which we find in the Gospel. The dignity and the vocation of women - as well as those of men - find their eternal source in the heart of God. And in the temporal conditions of human existence, they are closely connected with the "unity of the two". Consequently each man must look within himself to see whether she who was entrusted to him as a sister in humanity, as a spouse, has not become in his heart an object of adultery; to see whether she who, in different ways, is the cosubject of his existence in the world, has not become for him an "object": an object of pleasure, of exploitation.

[Pope John Paul II, Mulieris Dignitatem]

On this Fifth Sunday of Lent, the liturgy presents us the episode of the adulterous woman (cf. Jn 8:1-11). In it, there are two contrasting attitudes: that of the scribes and the Pharisees on the one hand, and that of Jesus on the other. The former want to condemn the woman because they feel they are the guardians of the Law and of its faithful implementation. Jesus, on the other hand, wants to save her because he personifies God’s mercy which redeems by forgiving and renews by reconciling.

Let us thus look at the event. While Jesus is teaching in the Temple, the scribes and the Pharisees bring him a woman who has been caught in adultery. They place her in the middle and ask Jesus if they should stone her as the Law of Moses prescribes. The Evangelist explains that they asked the question in order “to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him” (v. 6). One might think that this was their purpose: behold the iniquity of these people — a ‘no’ to the stoning would have been a pretext to accuse Jesus of disobeying the Law; a ‘yes’ instead, to report him to the Roman Authority which had reserved such sentences to itself and did not permit lynching by the people. And Jesus must respond.

Jesus’ interrogators are confined to narrow legalism and want to oblige the Son of God to conform to their perspective of judgment and condemnation. However, he did not come into the world to judge and condemn, but rather to save and offer people a new life. And how does Jesus react to this test? First of all, he remains silent for some time and then he bends down to write on the ground with his finger, almost as if to remind them that the only Legislator and Judge is God who had inscribed the Law on stone. And then he says: “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her” (v. 7). In this way, Jesus appeals to the conscience of those men: they felt they were the ‘champions of justice’, but he reminds them of their own condition as sinners, due to which they cannot claim the right to life or death over one of their fellow human beings. At that point, one after the other, beginning with the eldest — that is, those who were more fully aware of their own failings — they all went away, and desisted from stoning the woman. This episode also invites each of us to be aware that we are sinners, and to let fall from our hands the stones of denigration, of condemnation, of gossip, which at times we would like to cast at others. When we speak ill of others, we are throwing stones, we are like these people.

And in the end only Jesus and the woman are left there in the middle: “misery with mercy”, as Saint Augustine says (In Joh 33:5). Jesus is the only one without fault, the only one who could throw a stone at her, but he does not do so, because God “does not want the death of the wicked but that the wicked convert and live” (cf. Ez 33:11). And Jesus sends the woman on her way with these wonderful words: “Go and do not sin again” (Jn 8:11). And thus Jesus opens a new path to her, created by mercy, a path that requires her commitment not to sin again. It is an invitation that applies to each one of us. When Jesus forgives us, he always opens a new path on which to go forward. In this Lenten Season, we are called to recognize ourselves as sinners and to ask God for forgiveness. And, in its turn, while forgiveness reconciles us and gives us peace, it lets us start again, renewed. Every true conversion is oriented toward a new future, a new life, a beautiful life, a life free from sin, a generous life. Let us not be afraid to ask Jesus for forgiveness because he opens the door to this new life for us. May the Virgin Mary help us to bear witness to all of the merciful love of God, who through Jesus, forgives us and renders our lives new, by always offering us new possibilities.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 7 April 2019]

(Jn 7:40-53)

In the Gospel passage, the religious authorities judge everyone with contempt.

Anyone who has always imagined himself as master will not be willing to make himself a disciple of a subversive Revelation.

While the élite marginalizes Christ, even the gendarmerie commanded to perpetuate and oversee the world’s security is amazed by the power of the new Word-Person.

The Lord replaces the Torah (vv.37-38). And whoever comes into contact with the new Temple is guided by the intimate ‘root’ that he has in his womb: and he wants to recognize it, inside.

He himself becomes a bubbling Sanctuary, which begins to think and act in conscience - starting from its core [suffocated perhaps, but indestructible].

A lesson in thinking ‘from below’, given to "superiors". Example that re-evaluates the theological judgment of the impious plebs (v.49).

And it’s curious that the disobedience saving Christ [present in his faithful] originates from the lack of minute knowledge of the Law.

There is a great confusion of opinions regarding Jesus among the people.

For the groups that have established the tyranny of norms, its unforeseen origin - non-mysterious nor overwhelming - is difficult to intend - unacceptable for calibrated thinking.

Some believe him to be the “son of David”, others a Prophet; a deceiver or a good man (v.12) or someone who has ‘no education’ (v.15).

The point is that He doesn’t come to impose the outdated discipline again, nor to patch up its customs.

Not even to purify the Temple, renewing its propitiatory practice.

Christ supplants it with the «now» of Reality that reveals an inconceivable God’s Face, which is grasped and expanded even from within each of us.

It’s by no means the quiet reconfirmation of the usual things.

Tradition [written and oral] boasts deep-rooted arguments, but its fame causes confusion and hard confrontation between opposing supporters.

There is never anything Exceptional in all of this.

But in the depths of each one dwells a ‘naturalness that teaches’, even to the masters of the paradigm.

Spontaneity will not lead us to the weak defense of Jesus made by Nicodemus (vv.51-53) who relies on another obvious law to save the situation.

When you stop wanting to be just addicted - comes the amazement, the God’s vertigo; different interests.

The Christ-icon of Jn 7 wants to develop in us the image and innate talent of the spirit’s teacher who simply draws from the personal experience of the Father, of himself and of reality.

We should not expect true answers come from someone outside, rated more experienced - to whom instead have (we) to teach the New that comes to save us.

The Vocation by Name is entrusted to the unknown Rabbi who already lives in us - and wants to emerge, expressing the divine unconscious already present.

The indispensable Gold, without induced mental burdens: only in conscience and character.

[Saturday 4th wk. in Lent, April 5, 2025]