In the 16th century, a woman in Geneva, Switzerland wrote to her bishop, who happened to be St. Francis deSales, to ask whether it was sin for a woman to use make-up. The saintly bishop replied, “Madame, for some women it is a sin not to.” It was a trifle, but at least the woman was concerned about sin. So should we. Today’s Gospel is a mini-drama about sin—serious sin.
Consider Scene One: Jesus is teaching. Suddenly, the circle of his listeners opens to let through a woman presented by the Scribes and Pharisees who were ready to stone her in accord with Mosaic Law. But they bring her first to Jesus and ask him, “What do you say?” Their motive was to set a trap for Jesus, If he said, “Stone her,” Jesus would discredit all he taught about the mercy of God. If he said, “Do not stone her,” he would be guilty of violating the Law, but Jesus beat them at their game.
He did not quickly respond. Silent, he bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger. Some suggest that Jesus was just doodling, sort of reflecting on the question. Straightening up he says: “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her” and then he returns to writing on the ground. What did he write? Some speculate that wrote the sins of the Pharisees. In any case, they went away, one by one.”
In Scene Two, we find only Jesus and the woman, or as St. Augustine expressed it, “We find Mercy and Misery.” Jesus asks, “Woman, has no one condemned you?” “No one, Sir,” she says. And Jesus replies: “Neither do I condemn you! Go, but sin no more!”
These words reveal the heart of Christ. Before all else, God wishes to save, to raise up the fallen and restore their dignity. Such goodness may seem excessive to us but this is the Lord’s way. Doesn’t this comfort and encourage us to approach the Sacrament of Penance?
Yet, we should take care not to fall into to the sin of presumption. If we blandly assume that because God wants to bring us to heaven—then it is all up to him to get us there regardless of what we do—we fall into the sin of presumption. When we commit the same sin over and over and just think, “I’ll just go to confession Saturday” and take no interest or make no effort to change, we have a “show of contrition” rather than a “true contrition” and fall into the sin of presumption. Reconciliation is not a one-sided affair. There must also be a response on our part.
Jesus does not condemn the woman. He does not excuse or make light of her sin. He doesn’t say, “Don’t worry...it’s really nothing.” He tells her “from now on do not sin anymore.”
God’s mercy endures forever, but this does not mean that God does not care what we do or say. To love without condition does not mean to love without concern. Unconditional love is not unconditional approval. The Act of Contrition contains our responsibility in reconciliation. We pray that we are “heartily” sorry, not “hardly” sorry. Our contrition must be heart-felt or sincere. We also say, “I firmly resolve with the help of thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the occasions of sin.” I always found that an awkward line. How is it possible to resolve to sin no more? St. John Paul II offers a clarification when he wrote:
“The resolution not to sin anymore is foremost a matter of conversion to God; it is not a matter of being certain that one will not commit the same sin again but rather of the will not to do so...We are not capable of bringing about transformation on our own, but if we cling to God, it will gradually take place in us. We tend to approach religious and moral life with too little patience as if it were like a surgical operation or injection which will make us immediately better again. Change is a long term process. The forces of sin act around and within us and we need to make a systematic and carefully supervised effort if we are to transform and weaken them.”
Isn’t this the challenge of Lent? Treat yourself to the gift of Confession in preparation for the Easter feast. The Lord’s admonition to the woman is just as valid for us: “Neither do I condemn you. Go and from now on, do not sin anymore!”
The Gospel account of the raising of Lazarus from the dead is presented to us in Lent since it pre-figures the death and resurrection of Christ. Like the Transfiguration, this miracle (Saint John calls it a “sign.”) gives us a glimpse of the glory to come. It points to the hope that is ours. Yet, there is one aspect of this event that I have always found rather curious. Did you ever wonder why Jesus delayed going to his friend even after he was informed, “The one whom you love is ill.” After all, Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary were his close friends—practically family. Jesus waited two days to go to Lazarus. Why didn’t Jesus drop everything and rush to his friends? He is not acting in a way we expect. By the time, Jesus arrives Lazarus had been in the tomb four days. How often in life, we wonder why God does not intervene in the way we would expect.
We all know those times when we have gone to the Lord in prayer, don’t receive the answer we expect or we wonder whether God has even heard our prayers. When we face these frustrating delays, we automatically assume that He is denying, neglecting, or rejecting us. We find it difficult to pray and we can become disillusioned, concluding that Jesus doesn't care, that prayers are meaningless.
One of the many lessons of today’s Gospel is that God’s “delays” are not denials” or a sign of his indifference or failure to hear us. Sometimes, God uses what we consider a delay to help us, to strengthen us. Jesus delayed his visit to Martha and Mary knowing the ultimate outcome would glorify God and strengthen their faith. Our Lord said: “This illness is not to end in death but is for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” Our Lord knew what he intended to do. Our Lord’s delay had a purpose. It would strengthen the faith of Martha and Mary in the resurrection. It was a prelude to Easter Sunday!
In the Gospel of John we learn that Jesus did things not because he was pressed to do them but because he chose to do them in his own time and in his own way. So often we would like Our Lord to do things our way, according to our timetable. But God’s ways are not our ways and his timetable is quite different from ours. C.S. Lewis illustrates this in a unique way:
“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace.”
Our spiritual life involves realizing that life operates on God's schedule, not ours, pressing through our doubts, surrendering our deadlines, renouncing our impatience and renewing our trust in the Lord. Let us ask for this grace today.