There’s a chapter division between the two stories in today’s entry, but that shouldn’t obscure the fact that these stories are very similar. Both focus on a man who is faced with an angry crowd and must tell them the truth they don’t want to hear.
The first man is Nicodemus. He is in the inner circle, where the chief priests and Pharisees meet, as they ask the Temple Guard why they didn’t take Jesus into custody after he upstaged the Feast of Tabernacles (7:45). The Temple Guard can only say “No man even spoke in such a way as this man speaks.” (7:46 DBH) This enrages them, and they lash out. They curse the crowd as ignorant of the Law (7:49).
This is when Nicodemus raises his hand. He asks a simple question: “Does our Law judge the man without first hearing from him and knowing what he is doing?” He’s right. Due process, or “diligence” is required in Deuteronomy 17:4 and 19:18. And you can guess what the response is.
The powerful leaders all turn to Nicodemus and insult him. “Are you also from Galilee?” they ask. “Look it up: no prophet comes from Galilee.” This shows that the ad hominem argument is indeed very old. And now they’re just dumping on Galilee, forgetting to fact-check themselves. Jonah is definitely from Galilee, and possibly Elijah and Nahum as well. But their flawed argument, which feels pulled from social media, is what the passage ends on. They all go home. Nicodemus didn’t “win” any arguments, but he defused something.
As they fester, they develop a plan, and spring it the next morning as Jesus teaches in the temple. They present Jesus with a legal case in real life, a woman caught in the act of adultery. In the same Temple where Jesus stood before the crowd in proclamation, they cruelly push this woman to stand before the crowd in shame, and dare Jesus to defend her.
They get the law half-right in this case. Leviticus 20:10 says “both the adulterer and the adulteress are to be put to death.” No man can be found, and last I checked, it takes two. I don’t know why Jesus doesn’t point out this obvious fact. Instead, as usual, he takes an indirect approach: he bends down and writes on the ground with his finger. (8:6)
Perhaps he’s thinking of earth and heaven, that “he who is out of the earth is out of the earth and speaks from out of the earth.” (3:31) But we aren’t told even what Jesus writes. As they continue to pester him, Jesus stands up and proclaims words that, when you hear them, becomes a part of you. “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” (8:7)
The way I’ve put it is the way I remember it, although it matches none of the major translations precisely. Inside those loose-fitting words lives the power of eternal truth. Jesus, as the Truth itself, merely speaks the truth, and draws their attention to the choice they have to make.
They are holding rocks that will beat life out of a human body, but they have to throw them for that to happen. The first stone is always the hardest. It is thrown by an individual, while the others are thrown by a faceless mob. By drawing attention to that first stone, Jesus points out the truth that their violence will break her body apart, and they will kill a person made in the image of God. Are they ready to do that to win a debate?
When rocks fly, the crowd becomes more and more convinced of its rightness and righteousness. Before the first stone, they are not yet certain, and may listen to someone who tells the truth. Afterward, they rewrite the truth so that everyone knows this had to be done, nothing could be different, so sad. But before they choose, the ending of the story is yet to be written.
The risk is real that the crowd, rocks in hands, could swivel and turn on Jesus like they did on Nicodemus. But they don’t, not yet, because the time is not complete for the full truth to be exposed. So they retreat. With the oldest going first (8:9), they drop their rocks and leave.
Jesus and the woman are alone, in a Temple courtyard, like Jesus and the woman at the well, or Jesus with Mary Magdalene in the garden by the tomb. And Jesus asks her a question: “Where are they? Does no one condemn you?” No one does, no man, neither the Son of Man.
God did not want that woman stoned. God wanted her defended. As Nicodemus defended Jesus meekly, Jesus defended the woman courageously. In both cases, there was a third defender is also active: the Holy Spirit.
The Spirit speaks to the inner spirits of those made in the image of God, the angry leaders turning on Nicodemus, who respond with anger, and those turning on the woman and Jesus, who respond with shame. Both Nicodemus and Jesus don’t say much, but their words are amplified by the Holy Spirit’s inner whispers to those who hear. The Spirit breaks the spell of groupthink, parries sharp words, and unclenches raised fists.
You may think this doesn’t have much to do with Christmas, but it’s there, even if suppressed beneath the plastic tinsel and fake, soapy snow of artificial good cheer. You can hear it in the “Coventry Carol,” which is a lullaby to the babies King Herod killed, when he was filled with rage as the baby Jesus slipped his grasp. (Matthew 2:16-18) At the coming Passover, another King Herod will finally catch up with Jesus. When we remember these murderous King Herods, the Spirit exposes the deeds of darkness, convicting as it did the stone-holding leaders, revealing truth.
Sometimes we can see it when King Herod gets what’s coming to him (see Acts 12:20-23). But even when we can’t see it, the murderers, terrorists, and genociders have a judgment coming, spoken by the Son of Man — although assuredly, no one knows the exact hour of their ultimate trial date.
I trust the Spirit will deal with them. That same Spirit, that same good Father, that same Son of Man, he speaks to you, standing alone in a holy place, after the accusers flee. He says, “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.” (8:11) Yes, the Truth will set you free.
