My brothers and sisters in Christ, the readings on this fifth Sunday of Lent speak of a day in which we shall be free from the captivity of sin, when we shall become new creatures in the Lord. We will no longer be weighed down by the sorrows and tears of being separated from God. We instead will be joyous at the great things he has worked within us. And we will no longer strive to maintain the law, no longer judge others before first judging ourselves. We will find that true freedom comes when we unite ourselves with Christ in his mercy. The truth of these things we see made present in the Gospel.

In the gospel, we see the adulterous woman being brought before Jesus, paraded, by the scribes and the Pharisees, in the midst of the people whom he had been teaching. Teacher, they said to him, what what do you say? They tell him about how according to the law a woman caught in the act of adultery should be stoned to death. They have brought her before Christ to try to trap him into either speaking against the Law or perhaps to have him sentence the woman to death. Eager anticipation would have hung in the air as this had to have been be a very tense moment. There were only two obvious choices visible to the scribes and the Pharisees, to those followers of Christ whom He had been teaching, to the condemned woman herself. These choices were that of speaking contrary to the law or a sentence of death, both of which would have ended with bloodshed.

Jesus, however, found a third choice.

He chose at that very moment to write in the sand.

Of all the passages concerning Christ, this is among the most curious of them. Jesus, teaching his followers, is suddenly put on the spot. But he takes a moment to write in the sand, something so curious yet so interesting that the evangelist found it necessary to mention. Speculation has run rampant over what exactly Jesus chose at that moment to write.

Unfortunately, we will never know, at least not in this life. What we do know is that when he was pressed on for a decision as to what should be done with the woman, the scribes and the Pharisees anxious for his answer, he looks up from that which he is writing, and tells them: “Let him who among you is without sin cast the first stone.” Perhaps he had been writing the names of those present who were themselves guilty of a transgression against the Law.

The sixth commandment states that we shall not commit adultery, and in Leviticus we see that if a man commits adultery he and the woman shall be put to death. Though we should wonder where the second character in this transgression was.  There is much to ponder in this passage. The Pharisees were doing what they believed was appropriate in accordance with the Law. But the response which Christ offered did not condemn the woman nor did it defend her. Jesus, instead, turned the spotlight from himself and from the woman and instead turned it toward the Pharisees. They were quick to judge by the Law, but were they themselves ready to be judged just as quickly? By shifting the point of focus from the woman to everyone gathered, he was calling them all out to take a look at their own lives. Jesus was asking them in a roundabout way if they themselves were ready to be judged.

And this is how we should be today, my brothers and sisters in Christ. We should not be quick to judge someone lest we ourselves be quickly judged. We should not be quick to judge someone's faults lest we step back and reflect on our own. Christ did not avoid answering the Pharisees and the scribes. He was ready to give them an answer but the problem was that they were not ready for it.

The more important part of this passage takes place, however, after the crowd has left. After he told them that the one without sin should cast the first stone, he returns yet again to writing in the sand. One by one everyone leaves, beginning with the elders. The ones leading the people, the ones who supposedly were stricter adherents to the law, were the first to go, perhaps because they knew that they did not want to be judged by their obedience to the law. Jesus continues to write until everyone but the woman is gone.

He finally asks her if anyone had condemned her. And when she says no, He tells her that neither does he and to go and from now on to sin no more. He is telling her that her sinful ways have been forgiven and the time for change had come.

This is what we observe many times in the gospels, people, sinners, and their encounter with Christ. No one who truly and humbly encounters the Lord can remain the same. No one who comes face to face with Him can remain in their old ways. An encounter with Christ means that something new is brought to life.

So let us take heed of the plight of the adulterous women.  Instead of facing the situation which she had, that of being pulled abruptly, most likely violently as well, from her sinful life and brought unceremoniously before the one who would pass judgment upon her, the one who would most likely condemn her to death, let us seek to be proactive in our reconciling ourselves back to God.

We do this by asking for the mercy of our Lord in the oft times forgotten sacrament of Reconciliation, the sacrament of confession.  Let us repair that damage caused by our sinful lives. Let us seek to bridge that chasm caused by our disobedience. Let us reunite ourselves once more to the graces of God by making use of the confessional. Paul reminds us in the second reading to forget what lies behind us and strain forward toward the goal ahead of us, to keep moving towards the goal of Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. This can truly be done if we seek it out in confession.

We desire that on that day when we find ourselves face to face with our savior, that He looks to us and tells us the same as he told the adulterous women: Neither do I condemn you.  And instead of telling us to go and sin more, he will tell us “Well done, my good and faithful servant. Come share your Master’s joy.”

In these final weeks of Lent, we can imagine what Christ might have written in the sand as the condemned women stood before him, then again as the sentence of death, the penalty of her sin, was lifted by merciful forgiveness. We can imagine what he might have written to us.

“Return to me with your whole heart, for I am gracious and merciful.”