Grace and opposition

John 7:53-8:20, NRSV

Then each of them went home, while Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him and he sat down and began to teach them. The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery; and making her stand before all of them, they said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” They said this to test him, so that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once again he bent down and wrote on the ground. When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders; and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, sir.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.”

This story has been one of my favorite pictures of Jesus for a long time. It rolls up so many of his attributes in one interaction—his divergence from the cultural expectations, his challenge to religious systems of power and regulations, his compassion for the misunderstood, marginalized, and excluded.

But this story’s also different. Unlike many of the other encounters Jesus has with the wounded, weak, and sinful characters we read about, this woman doesn’t approach Jesus of her own volition, she’s brought to him by manipulative leaders who see her as a pawn in their chess match against Jesus.

You can just see their clenching grip on her arms as though they were clenched around their own security, their own sanity, their own sense of “how things are”. They’re clinging tight to the only way they’ve ever made sense of the world, and this man, instead of falling into their trap, offers grace—grace that undermines their systems and authority. His grace shattered their confidence.

Isn’t that how it works, though? Those who would receive grace can never do so from a place of confidence. The moment I believe I’m deserving of grace is the moment it ceases to be grace at all. It’s contractual. Retributive. I get mine and you get yours, and I’ll prove to you that I’m in the right. Which sounds a lot like judgment and self-righteousness.

Grace or judgment, you get to choose.

Whatever Jesus wrote in the dirt as he stooped down in front of this flurry of powerful men stopped them in their tracks of condemnation, and stripped them of their authority to judge.

Somehow they no longer saw themselves as the sinless judges. Somehow Jesus leveled their trap against him to get them to abandon their play altogether. And this wasn’t for his own sake, but for the sake of the woman they were willing to sacrifice in order that they would be right.

Her life was hardly a cost to consider for their cause. They brought her to him not for the sake of justice, but for the sake of silencing him as their opposition.

Let’s be clear about one thing: the Love of God in Jesus Christ does not set out to be anyone’s opposition. The Love of God in Christ does not need to conquer or defeat any foe—the Love of God in Christ is only the opposition when we—you and I, humankind—when we make it so. It is always our choice to deny and oppose God’s love, but when we do so, we align ourselves with the voice of judgment, wrath, and condemnation. We separate ourselves from Love, and we choose death.

Jesus only ever offered grace and truth—to the woman caught in adultery, to the tax collectors, to the prostitutes, to the blind and sick, and to the Pharisees and scribes.

But these men who opposed him had no interest in the freedom he offered. They liked the familiarity of their systems, their certainty, their power. Jesus’s grace and freedom made him a threat and an opponent to them—not because he wanted to take them down, but because he offered something better.

He must have been incredibly frustrating to encounter for those who were comfortable.

He must have been infuriating for the ones for whom the system was working.

He must have been ridiculous to those who were confident enough without him.

Jesus was a disruption for those who thought they saw clearly. But for those who needed Love, he was, and is, the Light of the World.

The only enemy of the gospel—of the eternal life and love of God—is refusal of that love. Self-sufficiency is the only enemy of eternal life.

Self-sufficiency is what throws a sinner or a criminal before God and says “Here! Now give her what she deserves!!” Self-sufficiency delights in the suffering of another in the name of being right.

But in his grace, Jesus not only frees her from their self-seeking hatred toward her, but he frees them, too. He offers them a new perspective. He offers them the gracious path to eternal life.

Jesus also wasn’t fooled by their momentary compliance. He knew how this would end. He knew their wrath would not tolerate his boundless love. Their refusal would no doubt mean his own execution. But it is in embracing the death and separation, that their illusion fades, and Jesus delivers us all into the kingdom of life and light and love everlasting.

Our own self-sufficiency is the seed of our separation from others and from God. And for that, Jesus only ever and always offers grace. It is always your own choice how to respond to grace. Receive and believe your belovedness, and give up that which enslaves you to judgment and hate.