A Chapter Conference for the Friday of the Third Week of Lent

+ “Inclinabit Iesus et scribeat in terra: Si quis sine peccato est, mittat in eam lapidem,” we sing at the Benedictus in Lauds tomorrow morning—”Jesus stooped down and wrote on the ground: If anyone is without sin, let him cast a stone at her.”

This is, of course, the conflation of two verses from tomorrow’s Gospel reading, the moving passage from the eighth chapter of St John (vv. 1-8) recounting Our Lord’s meeting with the woman brought to Him by the Scribes and the Pharisees who had been caught in the very act of committing adultery.

In the act of committing adultery. There was no doubt at all that this woman was guilty of transgressing one of God’s commandments. The Scribes and the Pharisees knew that. So did she. Our Lord did not dispute it. According to the Law she ought to be stoned to death.

Sin that is grave—and the Church’s constant teaching is that any use of the God-given gift of sexuality outside of married love is grave matter—which is knowingly and freely engaged in results in death: spiritual death. It is mortal, literally.

We know the subsequent events that the Gospel recounts: faced with Jesus’ words no one dared to cast a stone. No one of her accusers was without sin. They departed one by one until the woman was left with only the Lord Himself.

In passing, let us not fail to note the humility in which Jesus rather rapidly tutored her accusers: they did put down their stones and walk away. They were, after all, as Scribes and Pharisees, devout people, even if they were overzealous in their interpretation of the Law. Nevertheless, formed in the Good News by the Christ Himself, they walked away in humility.

Our world is, sadly, not lacking in those who are my no means without sin and who would not walk away in humility. Unfortunately the Church herself is not exempt from this phenomenon. Indeed, we see only to often, particularly in the media, those who would cast veritable boulders at sinners of one sort or another whilst themselves being guilty of sins equally, if not more, grave. These, the hypocrites of the twenty-first century, merit far greater condemnation than the Scribes and Pharisees of this Gospel passage.

Tomorrow the Sacred Liturgy will sing not once, but twice—in the Communion and Magnificat antiphons—of the conclusion of this encounter between the Lord and the adulterous woman: “Nemo te condemnávit, mulier? Nemo, Dómine. Nec ego te condemnábo: iam ámplius noli peccáre.” “Woman, has no one condemned you?” “No one, Lord.” “Neither do I; go, and do not sin again.”

The compassion of Christ here is palpable. This, I believe, is one of the most truly beautiful encounters recorded in the Gospel.

“Neither do I condemn you.” Can we, who know only too well what it is to sin, comprehend this? Can we believe it of ourselves, of our past sins? Of others, including those who may have sinned against us?

As we know from Sacred Scripture and the Teaching of the Church, repentance and a resolve to avoid sin and occasions of sin is required on the part of the sinner: our hearts, minds and souls must be open to Our Lord’s compassion for it to reach us. But if I am humble enough to repent, if I am willing to take the real steps necessary truly to try to avoid future sin, it His compassion and not His condemnation that awaits me. This is the Good News of the Gospel!

Some might object that this no less than weakness, that it is “cheap grace”, that to forgive sinners so easily is a mockery of the moral teaching of the Church.

Not so! For the Lord’s command “Go, and do not sin again” remains. Yes, He is compassionate, but as St Augustine points out in his homily at Matins tomorrow morning, this passage also shows the Lord’s justice, which cannot be separated from His mercy. Sin is sin and the Lord does not obfuscate on this point. The woman is commanded by the Lord, as are we, not to sin again.

That command requires our conversion of life. We seek that conversion in the discipline of the monastic life. Hopefully, here, our days of committing adultery or similarly grave sins are over and we are increasingly faithful to the Lord’s command. Please God we are making at least some progress in the conversion of our life, no matter how much more remains necessary. Indeed, by simply asking to enrol in the “school of the Lord’s service,” (Rule, Prologue) we have taken a decisive step towards that conversion.

Howsoever slowly we progress along this path, and in spite of whatever setbacks we encounter, let us be confident of the beautiful compassion of Christ. He will sustain us, He will recreate us, if only we our open our hearts, minds and souls to Him today, and anew every day. Indeed—and we may not believe this possible—if we give ourselves to Him, He will gradually transform us into icons of His compassion—Icons which our current and future monastic brethren, our guests, and our world so desperately need.
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As we approach the Fourth Sunday of Lent, let us take up our prayer and penance with renewed resolution and vigour, and with joy, that we may become more open to His transforming grace, that those who do not know the Compassion of Christ may encounter it in and through us, and that those who stand ready to cast their stones may learn humility, put them down and walk away. +

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