John 8:1-11 | The Woman Caught in Adultery

Introduction

Let’s open the Bible to John 8:1-11, the story of the woman caught in adultery.

First of all, happy Father’s Day to all the dad’s out there. I hope you had a great Sunday.

Now, your Bible probably has a notation about this text. For example, my ESV Bible has double brackets around the text with a note saying. “The earliest manuscripts do not include 7:53-8:11.”

What’s that about? Well, most scholars don’t think this passage is original to John’s gospel. It wasn’t in the earliest manuscripts we have. It was added later by the early church. When we find the passage in later manuscripts, it’s in different places: John 7, John 21, and even Luke 21.

Now, there is a whole branch of biblical studies known as textual criticism that researches all these kinds of things. I don’t have time to get into those details right now, but I want to say a few things.

First, having these kinds of notes in our Bible is a great gift of scholarship and should only increase our confidence in scripture. There are other textual variants that your Bible will notate as well. In all of them, choosing one word over another doesn’t change Christian doctrine one bit. You can be absolutely certain that the Bible you have in your hands is the word of God that he wants you to have.

Second, though its place in the Bible is debated, this is an ancient story that several early church fathers reference, and the church has historically held to its authenticity. It’s so consistent with Jesus and doesn’t contradict anything else we know about him in the scriptures. So, as John Calvin said, since the passage “contains nothing unworthy of an Apostolic Spirit, there is no reason why we should refuse to apply it to our advantage.”

Now, let’s read the passage.

The Woman Caught in Adultery

8 53 [[They went each to his own house, 1 but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. 2 Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him, and he sat down and taught them. 3 The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and placing her in the midst 4 they said to him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. 5 Now in the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” 6 This they said to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. 7 And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8 And once more he bent down and wrote on the ground. 9 But when they heard it, they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. 10 Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” 11 She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.” ]]

What do we see in this passage? Two things.

1. Jesus confronted the accusers (8:1-9)

2. Jesus comforted the accused (8:10-11)

Jesus Confronted the Accusers (John 8:1-6)

The religious leaders loved to test Jesus with traps veiled as questions. He was so different from their expectations of the Messiah and so vastly different from how they lived that they couldn’t fathom how Jesus could be anything but a blasphemer.

We pick up the story in the temple. Jesus was teaching that day when the scribes and Pharisees brought a woman in and said, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” Jesus was put on the spot in front of everyone. What would the great teacher say?

There are a couple of things worth noticing about this accusation.

The law they are referring to is found in a couple of places. Deuteronomy 22:23-24 says, “If there is a betrothed virgin, and a man meets her in the city and lies with her, then you shall bring them both out to the gate of that city, and you shall stone them to death with stones, the young woman because she did not cry for help though she was in the city, and the man because he violated his neighbor’s wife. So you shall purge the evil from your midst.” Leviticus 20:10 says, “If a man commits adultery with the wife of his neighbor, both the adulterer and the adulteress shall surely be put to death.”

Now, I wonder if you noticed something about those laws. There’s something missing in how they brought the accusation. Do you see it? The law command both parties to be punished. So, where is the man? Maybe we could assume they didn’t see him, but that’s not really a possibility. To gain conviction in Jewish law required a very specific type of witness. At least two witnesses must agree on absolutely everything. There’s an old Jewish story about a woman named Susanna who was accused of adultery under a tree, but she was acquitted because, in the cross-examination, the witnesses couldn’t agree on the size of the leaves.

On top of two witnesses agreeing, they had to actually see the act being played out. In other words, it wouldn’t work if they saw her leaving a room or in a compromising situation. They had to see the act itself.

 So, these religious leaders are saying they saw the woman in the act of adultery. If that’s the case, again, where is the man? Why is it so often only women who bear reproach?

Some speculate perhaps the woman was set up. Maybe the man was even among them in the accusing party. The text doesn’t tell us, so we can’t be sure. But if these scribes and Pharisees were really concerned about upholding the law, they should have brought the man too since, by their own accusation, they surely had seen him. But the woman was enough for their purposes. They were using her to trap Jesus. They were taking her shame for their gain. They were more threatened by Jesus than they were by any lawbreakers. There was no formal trial. There was only an accusation and then a question, “What do you say, Jesus?”

Now, let’s consider the stakes. If Jesus didn’t uphold the law, then all he said about fulfilling the law was a lie. But if he did uphold the law and commanded stoning, how would that jive with his insistence on grace and mercy and the compassion he showed to sinners throughout his ministry? Do you see what’s on the line? This isn’t an easy one. It comes down to this: is Jesus just, or is he just compassionate? But, as Tim Keller said, “Jesus combines compassion and justice so perfectly that the world has never seen its like.”

How did Jesus respond? Verse 6. “Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground.” What did he write? Don’t you want to know? Well, I do too, but there is no way to know. No one knows what he wrote, and anyone who says they know what he wrote is just making it up.

I don’t think it matters what he wrote because immediately after, he spoke. In verse 7, he stood and said some of the most famous words ever spoken, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.”

Let’s not overlook the brilliance of this. Notice what Jesus didn’t say. He didn’t say, “Don’t throw any stones.” What did he say? He said, “Go ahead, but make sure the one who throws it is without sin.” He trapped the trappers. He confronted the accusers. He turned the tables on them. He said, “You want to apply the law? Then let’s apply it.” It’s a brilliant move. He didn’t deny the law, he applied the law. And no one could stand before it. No one there was without sin except for him. No one was qualified to throw the first stone but him. And he didn’t do it—we’ll look at why in a minute.

Then he went back to writing on the ground. Again, we don’t know what he wrote. It doesn’t matter. Maybe all this writing on the ground shows how far outside of this fabricated drama Jesus remained. They came to him with this big deal, and he kind of ignored them. Not that obeying the law doesn’t matter, but he sees right through them. He knows what they’re up to, so his writing on the ground is a way to show his disinterest in their little show—like a kid playing in the dirt in t-ball. The coaches are yelling about a close call at first, and the kids don’t even acknowledge anything happened.

His words, however, hit home. And maybe he went back to writing in the dirt because it took a few minutes for his words to sink in and drive action. Verse 9 says, “When they heard it, they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones…” Why the older ones first? Maybe because as you age, you start to realize just how far from perfect you really are. You can trick yourself into thinking you’re not that bad when you’re young. There are things you would never do, and as long as you’re on the right side of the proverbial line, you can convince yourself you’re a decent person. But the longer you live, the harder it becomes to keep that self-image up. After the older ones started the trend, everyone eventually left. They realize they don’t have the righteousness required to throw the first stone. Whatever we want to say about the scribes and Pharisees, I think it’s disingenuous to say they didn’t want to obey God.

The focus now turns from the accusers to the accused. Moments before, the angry crowd was ready to stone her. Now, not a single one was left to condemn her. As D.A. Carson says, “Those who had come to shame Jesus now leave in shame...the ring around her melted away.” It was her and Jesus only.

Now, that’s not necessarily good news for her—not yet. Jesus didn’t say, “No stones need to be thrown.” He only said, “Whoever has no sin, go ahead and throw it.” Jesus was the only one without sin. He was the only one who could truly condemn, the only one who could truly throw the first stone. Would he? She knew what she deserved. What would Jesus give? He would give the most amazing thing. Jesus confronted the accusers, but he comforted the accused, which is our second point.

Jesus Comforted the Accused (10-11)

Jesus stood, looked at the woman, and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

Commentator Colin Kruse points out that this is the first time in the whole episode that anyone addressed the woman. They dragged her in, accused her of adultery, and demanded her death, but until then, no one spoke anything to her.

Jesus did not start with her sin. He started with her accusers. Isn’t that interesting—and just like him? When she answered that none of them condemned her, Jesus said something amazing in response. “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.”

How can Jesus say this? Well, in a way, he could say it because now that everyone is gone, there is no real case against her. The charges are dropped, as it were. But there’s a more puzzling question. The scribes and Pharisees weren’t totally wrong. If the law is violated, doesn’t that demand punishment? Shouldn’t Jesus act justly? Is he ignoring the law?

Well, notice what he doesn’t say. He doesn’t say, “You aren’t guilty.” The last thing he tells her is to sin no more. He’s not saying she’s innocent. But he doesn’t condemn her. Isn’t that interesting? Jesus is the most holy person that exists. He can’t overlook sin because if God overlooks sin, that is a real problem. How can there be any justice in the world if God overlooks sin?

Here’s where we get straight to the very heart of Christianity. Christianity says that we are guilty, but we aren’t condemned. How can that be? If we are guilty, we must be condemned. Justice demands it. If we are truly guilty, there is no way around it. Try telling parents whose child is murdered that there is no condemnation for the murderer. They would be outraged, and rightly so. So, how can Jesus say this? How can we be guilty but not condemned?

Perhaps the most amazing verse in the Bible, Romans 8:1, says, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Here’s how we can be guilty but not condemned. Only if we’re in Christ. It can only be true if Jesus takes our guilt for us. It only works if 2 Corinthians 5:21 is true. “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” Only if Jesus takes our guilt and our sin and pays the price for us can we not be condemned. It’s only true if Jesus is condemned for us. The guilt and sin don’t just disappear. The penalty must be paid. Someone must pay it.

We can only be guilty but not condemned by the law if Jesus upholds the law for us. Jesus can only not condemn this woman now if he’s going to be condemned for her later, and that’s exactly what he will do. Jesus knows she should be stoned. He wrote that law! As God, he does demand perfect holiness from his people. But as Savior, he knows that cannot come apart from himself. Instead of throwing the first stone, he will let stones be thrown at him. Instead of her being crushed beneath the weight of their blows, he will suffocate upon the cross under God’s wrath for her sin. Jesus didn’t condemn her then because he would be condemned for her later. That’s why Paul says in Romans 3:26 that God is both just and the justifier—he is just, and no sin will go unpunished, but for his people, he is also the justifier, the one who sets things right on the cross. That’s the only way this works. He can only forgive because he will pay the penalty himself. That’s the heart of Christianity.

Left before Jesus, the only one who really could condemn her, she finds a rock she didn’t expect to receive—the rock that will be struck for her, the cornerstone that becomes a new foundation for her life. If she found that, you can too. This is not a one-off story. One of the things that makes this so powerful is that this is the normative way Jesus works. We don’t see this only here in John 8. We see it throughout his interactions in the Bible.

Throughout the gospels, we see Jesus moving toward sinners and sufferers in ways that shock and surprise us. Jesus shows us that God’s heart isn’t trigger-happy to condemn. In Luke 7, When the woman of the city (likely a prostitute) poured ointment on Jesus’s feet, and wiped them with her hair, and kissed them, the Pharisees were repulsed, but Jesus welcomed and forgave her for her many sins. In Luke 19, Jesus ate with Zacchaeus the tax collector. When the friends of the paralytic brought their suffering friend to Jesus in Matthew 9, Jesus didn’t even wait for them to speak. When he “saw” their faith, he told the paralytic, “Take heart, my son; your sins are forgiven,” and the paralytic got up and walked out. As Jesus traveled and saw the crowds, he had compassion on them. He taught them from God’s law but bent down and healed their diseases (Matt. 9). Jesus stood outside Jerusalem and wept over them. Throughout his ministry, we find the truth of Isaiah 42:3, “A bruised reed he will not break; a smoking wick he will not put out, till he brings forth judgment to victory.” He brought forth judgment to victory on the cross. He will not break us. He will not put us out. He was broken for us. He was put out for us.

The thing that pours out most naturally from Jesus’s heart is compassion for the undeserving. In his book Gentle and Lowly, Dane Ortlund says it this way: “Time and again it is the morally disgusting, the socially reviled, the inexcusable and undeserving, who do not simply receive Christ’s mercy but to whom Christ most naturally gravitates. He is, by his enemies’ testimony, the ‘friend of sinners’ (Luke 7:34).”

When you come to Jesus “caught in the act,” you expect the full weight of the law to crash into you. It’s what you deserve. But with Jesus, you get what you don’t deserve. You are guilty but not condemned because he was condemned for you. All you have to do to receive that is receive that. Just open your empty hands of faith and accept his cleansing blood. That’s the scandalous grace of the gospel.

Now, Jesus comforted her by not condemning her, but he didn’t stop there. Look again at verse 11. “Go, and from now on sin no more.”

We must remember this. Jesus did not merely say, “I don’t condemn you.” He also said, “Sin no more.” True Christianity is both the full grace and forgiveness found in Christ and a call to deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow him. It includes both melting before his grace and stepping into the obedience he calls us to. He forgives, and he challenges. But notice the order. It’s so important to remember the order. He could have said, “I won’t condemn you if you don’t sin anymore.” But he didn’t say that, did he? His grace comes first, and that grace empowers obedience.

This is how we know Jesus really loved that woman and how we know he loves us too. If he only forgives and doesn’t care how we then go and live, does he really care about us at all? If he only sends us back into the same lifestyle that got us dragged into accusation, pain, and potential death, would he send us back after forgiving us? Is that what you would do to someone you love? Of course not. Real love is loving someone enough to help them change into who you know they can be. Jesus loves like that. That’s why he calls us to obedience. He wants us to be like him; we can’t do that unless we obey him. But we can’t obey him—not truly—until we’ve been changed by his grace and mercy. Don’t mistake the order, and don’t mistake his love for you. Real grace forgives us completely, and real love calls us higher. Only in Christianity do sinners become saints. Heaven will be filled not with the deserving but with the undeserving.

Conclusion

Now, how does this passage help us? I think in two ways—personally and corporately.

First, personally.

Perhaps no sins result in as much shame as sexual sins. It’s not just what we act out, it’s also the thoughts we have. When Jesus added insight to the law in his Sermon on the Mount, he said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” (Matt. 5:27-28). Are any of us not adulterers? We are more like this woman than we want to believe. Who among us is qualified to throw stones? We ought to be stoned. Many of us feel so broken, unworthy, and even sometimes repulsive to God. We might even wonder if we’re even Christians.

Well, when your heart condemns you, God is greater than your heart, and he knows everything (1 John 3:20). You are not repulsive to Jesus. You do not shock him. Jesus came to save people like you. He wants you to know that. He wants you to experience the cleansing he can give.

Hebrews 4:14-16 says we have a great high priest who is able to sympathize with our weaknesses, who in every respect has been tempted as we are yet without sin. He calls us to draw near to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Here’s what that means. It means that if Jesus is really a savior—if he’s not just a mentor, or a self-help guru, or an example, or just a judge—if he’s really a savior, he will get down in the mess with you, and save you in time of need because he perfectly understands you. He will be there in the grossness, the desperation, the deepest temptation, and the hottest part of the battle. He is not just a counselor for the after-party when the high has worn off. He’s the hero running into the war with you. His throne is not the bench to approach to pay your fine after the infraction. His throne is a wartime walkie-talkie that you can call when the battle gets hot. He’s there for the dark moments, the moments you don’t even like to think about. He’s there with grace and mercy. He is not aloof to your real life, your real sins, the real you.

Jesus was tempted as we are but remains perfect and sinless, so he knows the real cost of holiness. And his perfection is not a platform from which he condemns but from which he saves. As Romans 8:34 says, “Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us.” When you are caught in the act, he won’t condemn you because he was condemned for you.

Your most desperate need when you are most desperate is not to get your act together so you can come to him; it is to simply come to him and receive from his deep wells of grace upon grace. Only then will you even have a chance at getting your act together. Don’t take your problems to the law; take them to the gospel. If you go to the law, you will get justice, which will crush you. That’s its job. But if you go to Jesus, you will find that the law has been fulfilled on your behalf in him, and, therefore, you can find, from his fullness, grace upon grace (John 1:16).

Now, here’s how this helps us corporately.

If the only person who had the moral perfection to throw stones at the woman didn’t, let’s be very careful about picking up any rocks. Sin is serious, but it is no match for Jesus’s cleansing blood. Let’s always remember the heart of Jesus for sinners and sufferers. If we are to make an impact at all in this judging and condemning world, we are going to do it by stepping into the grace of Jesus together. We are going to do it by laying aside our weapons—stones or otherwise—and coming together to find the mercy of Christ for us. I don’t know about you, but I have enough of my own sins. I don’t need to go looking at yours. I have enough need of the cleansing blood of Jesus for myself to keep me on my knees for a while. Don’t you?

We have two options. We can become a community that radiates the beauty of Christ so profoundly that condemnation is only something we know we’ve been saved from, not something we’re looking to bring upon others, or we can become a community that is so hard to please even Jesus himself wouldn’t be welcome. Which kind of community do we want? I believe we have the first kind right now, but let us never think because we have it now, we will automatically have it later. If we stop trusting Jesus, if we remove ourselves from his light, if we grow bored with his grace and start looking for our righteousness somewhere else, we can become the very opposite of what God wants most for us.

Let’s not do that. Instead, let’s continue to cultivate a gospel culture where Jesus is our greatest love. Where sin isn’t safe, but sinners are. Where we take each other to the gospel and not the law. Where we together boldly approach the throne of grace to find the help we need. Where we treat no sin too lightly nor too heavily because Jesus commands real obedience, but he forgives the worst we can do because he paid the price. And because he paid the price, we don’t have to. Let’s not ever make anyone pay for what Jesus already paid for. Let’s love him together, and let’s see what only he can do.

Let’s pray.