I want to point out something that’s a little unsettling in our Gospel today. At first, it might seem like this is just a story about some poor woman caught in a moment of deep sin – and that is certainly true. But if we look a little bit deeper, we realize: she wasn’t the only one caught in the act.

In the story, we have the scribes and Pharisees, the religious experts of the day, bringing this woman before Jesus. And what’s worse is they place her right in the middle of a crowd of men. They tell Jesus that she was caught in the very act of adultery.

Now stop and think: How did they know that? How did they know where to find her? And second, where’s the dude? It takes two to tango. Why is the man not also being accused…because the Law clearly required both people to face judgment?

So, the only logical conclusion is that this woman was set up. She wasn’t just a sinner – she was a pawn in a larger plan.

And when we see it from that perspective, we realize: these guys weren’t seeking justice. They weren’t seeking to right a wrong. They were looking for leverage. But leverage against whom? Jesus! They wanted to trap Him. Because, here’s the thing: if He showed mercy, they would accuse Him of ignoring God’s law. If He upheld the law, they’d report Him to the Roman authorities because Jews were not allowed to execute anyone. Either way, they thought they had Jesus cornered.

And what about the woman? To the Scribes and Pharisees, she wasn’t a person. She was a prop. A tool. A means to an end. They were using her.

But Jesus doesn’t play their game. Instead, what does He do? He bends down and begins to write in the dirt. Like, what? Now, we don’t know exactly what Jesus was writing – Scripture scholars and many of the saints have thought that Jesus was writing down the sins of the Scribes and Pharisees. But we don’t know for sure. But what we do know is that His silence speaks volumes.

Then He looks up and says the one line that changes everything: “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” And then, one by one, they begin to walk away.

Can you imagine how powerful of a moment that must have been?

Jesus could have humiliated every single one of these guys. He could have exposed their hypocrisy. He could have called them out publicly for planning this setup. But instead, He reveals something deeper; He points out a fact about each and every one of us: all of us are sinners. And when we’re honest about that, it’s really hard to keep holding onto stones.

Then this interaction ends with just Jesus and the woman. No crowd. No shame. No condemnation. He says to her, “Has no one condemned you?” She answers, “No one, sir.” And Jesus replies, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”

Notice what Jesus doesn’t say. He doesn’t say, “It’s no big deal.” He doesn’t dismiss the situation. He doesn’t pretend like her actions didn’t matter. He doesn’t say that what she did was okay. But He also doesn’t define her by that moment of failure. He gives her something none of us can give ourselves – a new beginning. He makes her a new creation.

So, let me ask:

Do we ever find ourselves picking up a stone? Not necessarily literally, but the kind made up of gossip, judgment, or condemnation?

Do we ever catch ourselves being more focused on someone else’s sin than on our own sinfulness and our own need for mercy?

Or maybe… maybe we are the ones in the middle of the crowd. Maybe we feel the weight of a mistake, a sin, a failure. Maybe we’ve believed the lie that we are our worst mistake.

If we can relate to that last one – and I want you to hear this if that’s your experience – Jesus does not condemn you. He sees you for who you truly are. He loves you and He invites you to begin again.

The Gospel doesn’t just tell us who Jesus is. It shows us what His mercy looks like. It teaches us that His love doesn’t shame – it heals. And it also reveals to us that true holiness doesn’t throw stones – it offers hands.

This week, let’s ask Jesus to help us let go of any stones we might be holding onto. And if we’re like the woman in the Gospel, bring those moments of shame to the Lord. Bring any sins we might be carrying to the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Encounter His love there. Let Him pick us up. And may that encounter truly change us, helping us to embrace the freedom that can only come from Him so that we can then go out and be people of mercy ourselves.

Painting: Christ and the Woman Taken in Adultery, Peter Paul Rubens, 1614. In the Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium. Photo taken by: Sailko. Used under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported license. Wikimedia Commons.