Today’s readings: Isaiah 43, 16-21; Philippians 3, 8-14; John 8, 1-11.
The death penalty is absolutely unacceptable both from the perspective of faith and from that of human dignity because it denies the possibility of redemption, mercy, forgiveness or rehabilitation. It offends the dignity of the person and the common good.
It is very unfortunate that religion was at times used to uphold such abhorrent practices. Religion is basically about redemption.
A basic problem with the Christian faith as it is normally transmitted to us is that God is portrayed as someone who keeps Himself well-documented on what we do and what we’re up to. We’re brought up thinking that God is un-forgetting and at the end of it all He’ll confront us with our deeds and misdeeds.
Isaiah speaks of a different God, of a God who is innovative, and with whom there is no need to recall the past. We need to unlearn in order to grasp profoundly what our faith is about. Israel, addressed in the first reading by Isaiah, was weighed down by its history of captivity. The woman caught in adultery in John’s gospel simply kept being identified with her past. These are forms of captivity that deny us a future worthy of the dignity God gave each one of us.
It is in the light of the Scriptures, and not in accordance with canon law, that we are called today to rewrite our theologies of mercy. As the Latin American theologian Jon Sobrino writes in The Principle of Mercy, our task as Christian communities is to take down the people from the cross, not to crucify them.
It is this same principle of mercy that transpires as personified in Jesus Christ in today’s gospel. Many of those following Jesus felt uncomfortable with the ease with which Jesus let the woman off.
There is no doubt that the Church, since its early stages of development, has always had its penitential practices, which however, should not be seen ultimately as penalising more than as educative. God’s mercy is very strange and it can go far beyond these practices.
In the gospel, Jesus is in no way condoning adultery. But he sends back to sender an accusation that was wrongly motivated, that was coming from a judging community, that was simply based on the execution of the law.
The more we judge in our communities, the less we become aware of our sinfulness. The real meaning of forgiveness in Jesus’ way of dealing with sinners calls for an overhaul of our way of dealing with forgiveness and reconciliation in our communities. Again, Sobrino writes that in the gospels, rather than a mere quasi-juridical absolution of sins, it is Jesus’ welcome and acceptance of sinners that stands forth.
Jesus reacts with determination towards the judgmental attitude of those who, in upholding the law, put themselves on the judgment seat. Mercy for Jesus is much deeper than justice; it is mercy that really heals. In Karl Rahner’s words, only the forgiven know themselves as sinners.
Today we’re living the paradox of times when forgiveness and healing are much needed, yet these are also times when the celebration of reconciliation in our communities is in deep crisis. We continue to be too concerned to give the juridical absolution to those who come, without bothering that much to make of reconciliation a meaningful sign that touches and heals the heart.
The Church is not there to impart forgiveness to penitent sinners. It is only when people feel welcome and accepted, only when they see themselves forgiven, that they can acknowledge their being sinners.
Forgiveness, to be true and authentic, has to be unconditional. It is God’s acceptance that makes conversion possible, not vice-versa. We put conversion as a prerequisite for forgiveness because we’re still trapped in our juridical frame of mind.
God’s ways are different. That is what we are called to explore. Otherwise more people will keep finding in the Church an institution that judges them, rather than a community that carries them in their fragility and vulnerability.