AIM: To show the gravity of spiritual sins, without
rendering sexual sins indifferent.
A man in the crowd streaming out of
Sunday Mass many years ago said to me: “I really like your sermons, Father. But
why don’t you preach a really hard-hitting sermon against pornography.” If
there had been time for a proper response.
I might have told him: ‘Pulpit condemnations of pornography are almost
as futile as sermons denouncing people for not coming to Mass. Those who most
need the message are least likely to be present.’
That was thirty years ago. Today I
could not say what I might have said them. The reason is the Internet.
Universally available and used most often by the young, the Internet brings
pornography right into our homes.
Is pornography really such a big deal,
some people ask? Who is harmed? Everyone
involved is harmed. Those who pose for the pictures or act in the films are
robbed of their human dignity. There is harm to the viewers as well. When we
view pornography, we are feeding our imaginations poison, something as toxic as
whiskey for an alcoholic or heroin for a drug addict. Pornography quickly
becomes addictive. Experts tell us that over time pornography causes chemical
changes in the brain; that it is as addictive as heroin or cocaine.
There
are other victims of pornography as well. Here is a young woman engaged to
marry. She is troubled because her fiancé is using pornography. “Don’t marry
him,” I tell her. “You’ll never be able to satisfy him. The pictures he looks
at will always be more exciting than any flesh-and-blood wife.” Wives too are
victims. God alone knows how many wives suffer depression when they discover
their husbands are using pornography. They feel they’re not good enough. My
long ago questioner may have been a little ahead of the times. But he was
right: pornography is an important issue – for all of us.
The people who come to Jesus in
today’s gospel, dragging with them a young girl caught in adultery, pretend to
be concerned about pornography. Their real concern, however, is to put Jesus on
the spot. They have heard that he is (as we might say today) ‘soft on sin’ –
especially a certain kind of sin – and they don’t like it. They are the same
people who complained in last Sunday’s gospel: “This man receives sinners, and
eats with them” (Lk 15:2). Jesus’ response then was the story we know as the
parable of the prodigal son. A better title for it, as I explained last week,
would be the parable of the merciful father, and the two lost sons. Jesus’ response to the demand that he take a
public stand about the woman caught in adultery was equally disappointing the
zealous defenders of morality.
The Jewish law in such a case was
clear. A woman guilty of adultery must be stoned. This is still the law in some
parts of the world. Only a few years ago
a woman convicted of adultery in a Moslem dominated part of Nigeria Saudi Arabia
Jesus’ first response to the demand
that he take a stand is silence.
Stooping down, he begins to write on the ground. Some Scripture scholars
see symbolism in his action. Perhaps, however, Jesus is simply embarrassed. Or
maybe he is filled with indignant shame that religious leaders could act so
heartlessly.
And heartless the woman’s accusers
were. Our gospel translation calls her a woman. The Scripture scholars say that
she was probably a young teenager.
Whatever her age, her accusers had no interest in her at all. They asked
no questions about the circumstances of her sin: whether it was a single slip
or an ongoing relationship; whether she had been seduced; whether the
availability of witnesses
meant that she was a victim of entrapment; whether she was penitent or brazen.
Her accusers were really interested in one thing only: setting a trap for
Jesus, “so that they could have some charge to bring against him,” as John
tells us.
When they insist that Jesus give some
answer, he straightens up and speaks the well known words: “Let the one among
you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Jesus is not
suggesting that the girl’s accusers are all guilty of her sin – though some of
them may well have been. He is saying
that the spiteful, self-righteous spirit in which they approach him is itself
sinful.
Jesus’ challenge strikes home. When
all the accusers have departed, leaving Jesus alone with the unfortunate girl,
the condition he has set for her condemnation is fulfilled. Jesus is without sin. If anyone was entitled to condemn her, he
was. He refuses to do so. Jesus declines to deal with the girl on the
legal level. Instead he meets her on the
personal level. More important than
punishment is the girl’s rehabilitation. Jesus’ final words challenge her to
begin: “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”
Jesus is not saying that sexual sins are unimportant. On the contrary, in
the Sermon on the Mount Jesus says that even deliberately entertained lustful
desires are sinful: “If a man looks on a woman with a lustful eye, he has
already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Mt 5:28). You can’t set the
bar higher than that.
Against sin Jesus was uncompromising. With
sinners he was compassionate. And with
none was he more compassionate than with people guilty of the so-called sins of
the flesh. The only people with whom Jesus is severe in the gospels are those
guilty of spiritual sins: hard-heartedness,
self-righteousness, hypocrisy, pride.
Those were the sins of the girl’s
accusers. To her Jesus extends God’s mercy. This alone could give her hope,
encouraging her to turn from a destructive life of sin to a constructive life
for God and for others – which is the only way to fulfillment, happiness, and
peace.
God is not a wet blanket. He is not a
killjoy. His commandments are not limitations on our freedom. On the contrary,
the commandments are signposts pointing to fulfillment and joy. Today’s
permissive society is wrong not because it allows people too much fun, but
because it robs God’s gift of sexuality of its beauty and mystery, dragging
people down to the level of animals.The mindless philosophy which says, “If it
feels good, do it,” is no friend of human happiness, but its enemy.
The conclusion of today’s gospel, in
which Jesus confronts this nameless and terrified girl, is one of the great
scenes in all of Scripture. The miserable one stands before the merciful One.
Jesus’ parting words, “Go, and from now on do not sin any more,” call sin by
its proper name, yet speak forgiveness and hope to the sinner. The incident
shows both Jesus’ severity, and his tenderness. With the girl’s accusers, Jesus
is severe. With her he is tender.
Which would you like to experience
from Jesus Christ? His severity, or his tenderness? You can choose. Show him
the sins of others; set yourself up as a judge of others; show Jesus how hard
you are working to uphold morality, to stamp out sin, to maintain religion,
law, and order – and you are likely, like the accusers of this poor girl, to
experience Jesus’ severity.
But show Jesus your own sins, your
moral failures and compromises; show him how much you need his forgiveness, his
healing words and touch which alone can mend the brokenness of your life with
all its loose ends, failed resolutions, and compromised ideals. Show Jesus
Christ your own faults, rather than the faults of others. Then you too will
experience not his severity, but his tenderness. Like the poor, humiliated,
cruelly abused girl in this story, you will be bowled over by the wonderful
generosity of this unbelievably merciful Savior and compassionate friend,
saying to you, as he said to her: “Neither to do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”
Which do you want from Jesus Christ?
Severity or tenderness? The choice is yours.
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