This passage is well-known for a number of reasons, not the least of which is Jesus’ admonition that whoever is without sin should throw the first stone. It really is a condemnation-stopping, yet ever-so-reasonable directive.
But perhaps a few questions to consider: Just how was the woman caught in the act of adultery? And if she was caught in the very act of adultery, where is the man who was with her? The law states that he should be killed as well.1
Jesus doesn’t touch these questions. Indeed, he doesn’t say anything at all to begin, at least, not out loud.
Instead, he bends down and writes on the ground. Much has been speculated about what Jesus wrote—was it the sins of the accusers, a reminder of the law’s full requirements, or something else entirely? John doesn’t tell us. Maybe it’s because the words aren’t the point. Maybe the pause is.
In that silence, something shifts. The accusers, who arrived ready to condemn, are forced to confront not just the woman’s sin, but their own hearts. Jesus’ lack of immediate response disarms their self-righteous certainty. When he finally speaks, it’s not to argue legal technicalities or call out their hypocrisy directly—it’s to invite reflection.
It’s as if Jesus is saying: Before you rush to condemn, consider your own standing.
And one by one, they walk away.
It’s a turn toward empathy. Jesus’ concern isn’t just the redirection of the accusers’ mindsets, but the woman’s as well. The law states that the woman should be killed. But Jesus doesn’t call for it. He looks at her—not with condemnation, but with grace—tells her to quit it, and sends her on her way.
No stones. No shame. Just a new beginning.
Alive.
John 8:1-11
And Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. Early in the morning he returned to the temple. All the people gathered around him, and he sat down and taught them. The legal experts and Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery. Placing her in the center of the group, they said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery. In the Law, Moses commanded us to stone women like this. What do you say?” 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.
They continued to question him, so he stood up and replied, “Whoever hasn’t sinned should throw the first stone.” Bending down again, he wrote on the ground. 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.
Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Is there no one to condemn you?”
She said, “No one, sir.”
Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on, don’t sin anymore.”
Psalm 103:8-10
The Lord is compassionate and merciful, very patient, and full of faithful love. God won’t always play the judge; he won’t be angry forever. He doesn’t deal with us according to our sin or repay us according to our wrongdoing…
Prayer
God,
Today, like the crowds in front of Jesus, we are quick to point fingers. We see what’s wrong in others, in leaders, in systems—and yes, there is much that needs to be called out. But if all we do is throw stones with our words, our fears, or our judgments, we become part of the same brokenness.
You know the fear in our hearts, God. Fear for what might happen, for who might suffer, for what might be lost. But fear isn’t where you leave us. So today, in the midst of the uncertainty and blame, show us how to stay rooted in your justice and your mercy. Teach us to speak truth boldly, but without letting anger consume us to points beyond Christ-like hearts and unloving action. To act with courage, but not to become hardened by cynicism.
Help me remember that righteousness isn’t about being right—it’s about being aligned with you. Show me where my own heart needs softening. Show me where my hands can serve. And remind me, again and again, that your kingdom is not built through fear, but through love that casts it out.
As I gather with others today to worship, let it not just be words we say, but a life we live—marked by the grace that doesn’t throw stones, and the justice that doesn’t stand silent.
By your Spirit & in Christ,
Amen.
Love this. Thank you!