Jesus Disarms the Crowd

You may recognize this as "the woman caught in adultery" from John 8: 2-11.  Look again.

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Transcript

Sermons from 

Mission Hills UCC

San Diego, California

Rev. Dr. David Bahr

david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org

March 8, 2026

“Jesus Disarms the Crowd”

John 8: 2-11 – Common English Bible

Early in the morning he returned to the temple. All the people gathered around him, and he sat down and taught them. 3 The legal experts and Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery. Placing her in the center of the group, 4 they said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery. 5 In the Law, Moses commanded us to stone women like this. What do you say?” 6 They said this to test him, because they wanted a reason to bring an accusation against him. Jesus bent down and wrote on the ground with his finger.

7 They continued to question him, so he stood up and replied, “Whoever hasn’t sinned should throw the first stone.” 8 Bending down again, he wrote on the ground. 9 Those who heard him went away, one by one, beginning with the elders. Finally, only Jesus and the woman were left in the middle of the crowd.

10 Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Is there no one to condemn you?”

11 She said, “No one, sir.” 

Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on, don’t sin anymore.

One day Mrs. Kopecki hung a large piece of newsprint on the wall.  She picked up a marker and drew a tiny circle in the corner of the huge sheet of paper.  Then she turned to the class and asked, “What do you see?”

Hands shot up immediately. “Yes, Jack?”  “A circle.”  “No, anyone else?”  Marie answered confidently. “A ring.”  “No.”

Several students began calling out at once. “A sphere.” “A loop.”   They had recently been studying vocabulary words, so Mrs. Kopecki was pleased with their enthusiasm.

When they were finally out of words, she told them, “Just stop and look carefully again.  Now what do you see?”  The students looked at the paper, then back at her, puzzled.  

A usually quiet child raised his hand half way.  “I see the hole in the middle of the circle.”  “Very nice!  But no.”  She pointed to the wall and said,  “Doesn’t anyone see this whole sheet of paper?”

That’s Jesus’ question in today’s story from the Gospel of John.  Jesus is teaching in the temple when a group of religious leaders interrupt him and drag a woman into the center of a crowd.  Why?  To trick him into saying something they can use against him.  She’s their bait.

Jesus sees what they’re trying to do.  Pulling this woman into their scheme, they point to the worst moment in her life – a tiny circle on a huge sheet of paper.  They shame her and expose her to public ridicule to fulfill their purpose of trapping Jesus.  

So what’s the trap?  If he says she should not be stoned, he appears to reject the law of Moses and discredit himself as a teacher.  But if he says she should be stoned, he risks conflict with the Roman authorities, who controlled executions.  Either way, they think they have him trapped.

But it’s worth pausing for a moment over their claim in verse five. “Moses commanded us to stone women like this.”  That sounds straightforward.  Most of us wouldn’t know, that’s not quite true. In the Law of Moses, adultery is treated seriously, but it names very clearly both people. If a man and a woman commit adultery, both are to be judged. Yet in this story only the woman is dragged into the circle. 

Of course we know to ask: Where was the man?  Was he one of their own?  Were they trying to protect him?  This story is always talked of as “the woman caught in adultery.”  Shouldn’t it be “The Missing Man and the Cowardly Crowd,” “The Man Who Didn’t Take Responsibility.”

In addition, the law required witnesses and laid out a careful process to guard against this kind of mob violence or public spectacle.  The religious leaders knew to quote only the part they wanted the crowd to hear.  

It reminds me of a story told of a church meeting where a disagreement broke out.  A group in the church wanted to host an event to discuss a current justice issue.  A man who was opposed to it stood up and opened the church bylaws.  He read a line out loud:  “The building may not be used for political purposes.”

Those words just hung there because no one else in the room had a copy of the bylaws in front of them. That sounded definitive so it must be true.

A woman raised her hand and said, “Would you mind reading the next paragraph?”  The man hesitated, then read it.

That paragraph explained why the rule had been written in the first place. Years earlier a candidate had tried to use the church for a campaign rally. The rule was meant to prevent the church from being used as a campaign prop.

The woman nodded and said, “So the rule isn’t about silencing the church from talking about issues of faith. It’s about keeping candidates from using it for rallies.”  The rule had enough of a ring of truth to sound definitive, but the man knew he didn’t tell the whole story. 

Just like the law of Moses and adultery. The religious leaders knew the law involved both the man and the woman. Jesus could have quoted the law right back to them and reminded them that two or three witnesses were required.  And that the witnesses themselves had to throw the first stone. He could have exposed their selective reading and embarrassed them in front of the crowd.

But he does something far more unsettling. He refuses the argument itself.  Instead he bends down and begins writing in the dust.  And in that quiet moment, Jesus exposes more than their fraud. His silence exposes a religion willing to weaponize shame.  He reveals their shameful attempt to protect the powerful.  And he reveals a crowd willing to destroy someone for her sin but unwilling to face their own.

Jesus disarms the crowd by shifting attention away from the woman and holding a mirror up to the people holding stones. We don’t know what he wrote in the dust. Maybe they didn’t either. Maybe he just doodled, but the men were unnerved.  And when people begin to see themselves clearly, the stones begin to fall.

Now, Jesus could’ve left it at that. The woman could’ve just been his prop too. A convenient illustration of a simple moral lesson: don’t judge lest ye be judged. 

But Jesus then turns to her with real concern. She knows she’s not without fault.  She played her part and Jesus sees that.  But he also sees something more.  He sees that she is more than a small circle on the whole page of her life.  And he offers a plan.  Don’t do it again.

“Woman, where are they?” he asks.  “Is there no one to condemn you?”  She says, “No one, sir.”  “Then neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on, don’t sin anymore.”

Notice a couple of things.  He doesn’t shame her.  And he didn’t say, “I forgive you.”  Last week, in Luke 7, he told another woman, “Your sins have been forgiven.”  In that story Jesus lifts the burden of her past.  He releases her from the load she’s been carrying. 

In Luke, the issue is forgiveness.  But here in John 8 the moment is different.  Here it’s about condemnation. “Neither do I condemn you.”

Both are mercy. And in both cases, mercy opens the possibility of a different future. Shame doesn’t heal anyone. Condemnation doesn’t restore anyone.  But free from condemnation, all of us can face the truth about our lives and begin again.

Another classroom story.  A boy had a habit of cheating on tests. One afternoon Mr. Kopecki caught him again. The answers were written on a small piece of paper tucked under his sleeve.

He could have embarrassed the boy and made an example out of him right there in front of the class.  Instead he quietly took the paper and asked him to stay after school.

When the room was empty he said, “You know this isn’t who you want to be.”  The boy stared at the floor.  Then he said something he didn’t expect.

“I’m not going to turn this in.  I’m going to help you.  But you need to decide what kind of person you want to be.”

Years later the boy told him that moment changed him. Mr. Kopecki didn’t ignore what he had done. He named it clearly.  But refused to humiliate him.

Brené Brown says that when people are trapped in shame, they rarely change. They hide. They defend themselves. They double down.  One of the hardest things for us as human beings is to believe that someone can know the truth about our lives and still refuse to condemn us.

But when someone refuses to condemn you, something else becomes possible. Honesty.  And honesty opens the door to accountability. Not pretending nothing happened. But the courage to say, “Yes. That was wrong. And I want my life to be more than that.”

And that is exactly what Jesus does here. He refuses to let this woman be defined by the worst thing she has done.

Sometimes we can relate to the woman in this story. A small circle drawn around the worst thing we’ve done.  But if we’re honest, there are also moments when we’re standing in the crowd. A stone in our hand. Ready to throw.

This matters right now in our country.  It feels like there may be a kind of shift happening. People beginning to wake up. Slowly. But when individuals begin to realize they were misled, it’s painful.  When the people they trusted turn out not to be telling the truth… Then what?

Some may look at the very real damage being done in our world and want people to feel ashamed for any part they played in it. To want them to suffer for the harm that’s been done – and that is still being done.

Such a desire makes sense. But shame rarely leads people out of the shadows.  It usually just drives people deeper into defensiveness and further divides communities.  Accountability doesn’t grow out of shame and condemnation. It begins when someone is free to finally see clearly and tell the truth.

That’s why what Jesus does in this story matters so much. He doesn’t pretend nothing happened. He doesn’t excuse harm.

But he refuses to humiliate anyone. Instead he creates a space where people can see ourselves clearly. And once that happens, the stones begin to fall.

If we really believe people can awaken to honesty and accountability, then we also have to believe they must be able to step back into the human community once they do.  Not as heroes. Not as victims.  But as human beings who learn difficult things about ourselves.

Because condemnation traps us in shame – all of us.  Mercy creates the space where change actually begins – for everyone.

Not a love that says, “I’ll love you no matter what you’ve done.”  That still keeps the focus on judgment.  Jesus points to something deeper.

Unconditional love is not loving someone in spite of their failure. It is being unconditionally committed to one another’s freedom.

Freedom from shame.
 Freedom to tell the truth about our lives.
 Freedom to begin again.

Because Jesus always sees more than the small circle in the corner drawn around the worst moments in our lives.

Jesus always sees the whole page.