Pericope adulterae is the term used to refer to the passage in St. John’s Gospel where the Pharisees present Jesus with the woman ‘caught in adultery’ and ask him if, according to Mosaic law, she should be stoned (Jn. 7:53 – 8:11). After writing something silently in the sand Jesus replied that the man without sin should cast the first stone. Ashamed by the realization that none fit the description they walked away.
Curiously the evangelist does not disclose what Jesus inscribed in the ground. What did he write? Maybe he scribbled a warning about the all too human and insidious hazard of sexual immorality.
Just as Jesus’ words vanished with the first gust of wind the concern for sexual morality seems to have vanished from our own moral underpinnings. When was the last time you heard the word ‘fornication’? Except when used in a jocular context it has disappeared from our vernacular. Almost by an unspoken universal agreement we have allowed – even encouraged – the word to slip into an irreversible desuetude. We can’t be held accountable for an offense of which we are no longer aware – this in spite of St. Paul’s clear and strong condemnation of the practice in his letters to the Romans and the Corinthians. Notably he uses the Greek word ‘porneia’. Who knew fornication and pornography share an etymological root?
Historians might have an idea of how lax the ‘tempores’ and ‘mores’ were among the pagans in the ancient communities of Rome and Corinth. But we have reason to believe that for Jews and recently converted Christians sexual morality then was a highly valued virtue – one which precluded non-marital sex. Today in our sex saturated society where a shallow ‘hook-up’ culture imposes itself on us as the norm one wonders how many of us self-identified Christians pay any heed to the archaic notion of sexual fidelity. Why should something so pleasurable, so readily available and so apparently without consequence be limited in its indulgence? Even more disturbing is the question: why have we no concept of the sin it entails?
What prompts this reflection is a report I have recently read about the Covenant House. As many readers may know the Covenant House (www.covenanthouse.org) began over forty years ago in New York City as a shelter for run-a-way teenagers. The organization now has homes in several countries in North and South American and in recent years has focused on rescuing and assisting victims of sex-trafficking. This abominable industry is now a scourge and has aroused alarm around the world, including the Vatican (see “The Pastoral Orientations on Human Trafficking”).
That there is a connection between global sex-trafficking and sexual immorality should be clear. Less evident but equally valid is the connection between international sex-trafficking and our own personal sexual immorality. If each of us individually ignores St. Paul’s admonition how will we as a society collectively resist (or even be concerned about) this spreading barbarism? One might draw a parallel between drug trafficking’s dependence on our demand for illegal drugs and sex-trafficking’s dependence on our own moral insouciance.
What did Jesus write in the sand? Who knows? But why does John’s Gospel even mention it? Could it be that just as the message Jesus inscribed was soon erased by some gentle breeze our own sins can be erased and forgiven by God’s gentle mercy if we repent? Clearly this was the message with which the woman ‘caught in adultery’ concluded her encounter with the Lord.
As he was aware of the personal, social and soteriological risk this supposedly harmless practice represents perhaps the warning Jesus etched in the soil was his lament: “Father, will they ever learn?”.
Does such obstinacy retard the Kingdom’s advance?
On behalf of the trustees and staff of the National Catholic Community Foundation allow me to wish all of you an Easter blessed with joy and hope.