Wednesday, March 4
Read: Psalm 128; Ezekiel 36:22-32; John 7:53-8:11
As a mother of three, two toddlers and an infant, patience is a finite but crucial resource. Through tattling, tears, and tantrums, I am constantly on the defense hoping to stave off the explosion that in very tense moments feels inevitable. And before another whine echoes in the chaos, I feel the desperate, angry, helpless “STOP” shoot up from my diaphragm, travel along my vocal cords and land on the ears of my shocked and bewildered children. What becomes important in this parental predicament is my decision to A) double down on the frustration and continue to shout, B) immediately console the hurt feelings, or to C) pause and linger briefly in the silence of our collective “what just happened” in the hopes that not too much damage hasn’t been done.
In the Gospel of John, the story of Jesus’ interactions with a woman “caught in the very act of adultery” and her would-be accusers provides us a Masterclass in parenting through a difficult moment. Rather than fueling the fire of emotions by condemning the woman brought before him or lambasting the accusers for interrupting his teaching, Jesus does something I rarely have the energy or clarity of mind to do; he takes a beat. I imagine him closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as he enters a deep squat to doodle on the ground. When Jesus’ non-responsive response does not elicit the kind of alarm that should be becoming of one who is deeply committed to the teachings of Torah, the accusers continue to make a big stink. Until finally, with the patience only the Son of God could possess, he stands back up to diffuse the tension once and for all. “Let anyone among you…” is the starting point of a new alternative to the petty vindictiveness of the accusers, the fearful dread of the woman, and the silence of those who bore witness to the scene. Not through an alter call or loud proclamation, but through another sequence of breath and deep squat, Jesus invites the accusers, the woman, and the witnesses alike to really see each other by asking them to look into themselves. The miracle in this exchange is Jesus’ ability to course correct the people’s self-righteousness, fear, and complicity through invitation.
It’s a bold strategy that I haven’t yet mastered how to make effective in arguments between two-year olds, but it works in this passage, throughout the Biblical witness, and in the great stories of love and redemption we encounter today. This story reminds us that the work of forgiveness, of vindication, of justice does not begin with our notions of how those things are accomplished. It begins only with God’s willingness to extend grace, forgiveness, and love to us and God’s invitation to us to respond in kind.
Throughout this season of Lent, my journey as a parent, as a citizen of the world, and as a beloved creation of God will continue. I anticipate that this season will call me deeper into taking these identities seriously and “going my way to sin no more.” But I am most grateful that the journey begins with, and only with, the invitation of the One who loves me enough to take a beat and await my response.
Prayer:
Give us, O God, the courage to wait before judging. Give us the grace to forgive. Give us the wisdom to know that we can do so because you have done much more for us. Amen.
Mrs. Bria Rochelle-Stephens ’18 is Vice President for Strategic Academic Initiatives, Director of the Presidential Scholars Program, and Instructor of Religion at Huntingdon College, returning to the College after completion of a Master of Divinity at Duke Divinity School. She is a candidate for ordination in the United Methodist Church.
