The Incarnation of Mercy

Just as is evident here in John 8, the using and abusing of women continues today.  It is both inside the church as well as outside the church. I subscribe to the BBC news. I want to know what is going on not just in America, but what stories are going on in the world. The past few months, two have jumped out at me. The first was yet another headline about India’s continued revolt to the 23 year old woman who was gang raped on a moving bus, beaten, and thrown out of the moving bus, left for dead. India is trying to figure out how to fight back against outrageously out of control sexual abuse by men and how to curb it. The BBC reported that this was not just a problem in India, but that most countries are ignoring this worldwide epidemic of abuse against women. This leads me to the second story – and one that happened right here in America. The BBC wrote a series of stories about America’s mixed reaction to the conviction of two teenage boys who raped an inebriated girl in Ohio. The BBC reporter was shocked that so many Americans sided with the two boys and thought the girl took the case too far – it was just a case of boys being boys. But what does that make the girl? A toy? Or worse, worthless?

This is not an isolated incident. 90% of rape victims are female. Someone is assaulted every two minutes in the US. 1 in 4 women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime. Almost 60% of attacks are never reported to the police. By the sheer number of these statistics, these women are volunteering at our churches. They are in our youth groups. They sit in our pews week in and week out. They come to us for advice and counseling. But they may or may not ever reveal to another living soul the anguish they have lived through.  Like Christ, we must stand up against those who would use women for their own purposes, with no thought to the woman herself.

         We must be aware and actively fighting a systemic issue that is both within our churches and without. We must shine a flashlight in these dark and neglected shadowy corners in order to bring the light of new life to the trapped women around us. Large portions of the population are dealing with issues rarely spoken about aloud in churches – examples include rape, sexual harassment, sex slavery, child abuse and domestic abuse. Church don't support these horrific problems, but they are rarely spoken about directly. Rape and abuse exist in our own churches (even by church leaders!) and victims are still too scared to report these violations of their bodies or to talk about them with anyone else. It is as if the victims have done something wrong! Many perpetrators rely on their victims’ silence in order to continue their abuses.

Let’s work to raise awareness of this into our churches and elsewhere!  Like Jesus in the story of the abused woman, we must break the snares that trap so many people. We must create safe spaces to share, we must raise awareness of the issue, we must insist that the victim has nothing to be ashamed of, and we must work to stop this type of behavior in our community. Furthermore, we must respond to the victim in a way like Jesus did – no condemnation and the chance of new life (which is an idea that lies at the very heart of Christianity!).  My favorite comment about this story in John 8 is by St. Augustine –

After everyone had left, the wretched woman was left there with the Incarnation of Mercy. My plea to you is this: to go and do likewise – be this person to a woman who has suffered dearly at the hands of others. 

Bringing Light to a Woman's Dark World

John does not include what it is that Jesus writes in the dirt, but it does not play a major role in this story.  The act itself is more important.  Jesus ignoring their question is a creative act of resistance that robs the scribes and Pharisees of both their power and prey.  Jesus refuses to engage in their arguments over the law when a woman’s life is at stake. The religious authorities continue to badger Jesus to answer them, while the woman wonders how long until the stoning begins.  Finally, Jesus stands up and answers the scribes and Pharisees.

His response is, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her” (v. 7b).  The law of Moses must be followed - the woman should be stoned for adultery!  Jesus’ prerequisite, however, is that only a person who is sinless may throw the first stone at the woman. None of her accusers or anyone in the crowd can fulfill this stipulation that Jesus adds.  This statement leaves all present speechless.

The roles are reversed between Jesus and his opponents.  Jesus takes their question and turns it in on the religious authorities instead of the abused woman.  He calls the religious authorities to accountability for twisting the law to their own ends and for the exploitation of this woman. Jesus bends down a second time and continues to write on the ground.  This time it is not to avoid anyone’s questions.  Jesus’ action gives time for the scribes and Pharisees to reflect on whether they stand up to the same code that they are using against the exploited woman.  Their silence and slipping away answer Jesus’ question quite clearly – they are all guilty of sin perhaps even sexual sin.

After all the opponents leave, Jesus addresses the woman for the first time.  For the entire scene, she has been a victim of her surroundings, but she becomes an active character when Jesus begins to question her. This is the first time she is addressed by anyone in the story!  He rhetorically asks, “Where are they?  Has no one condemned you?”  She replies, “No one, sir.”  Jesus answers her with one of the most memorable lines in all of Scripture: “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.” Jesus is the only one who has the right to judge or withhold judgment. In his only statement to the woman, he recognizes her sin but refuses to condemn her.  Many see Jesus’ words on par with the paralytic in John 5.  Jesus gives her not only her physical life but also a chance for a new life lived in right relationship with God.  Jesus brings light into the dark world of this oppressed woman.  

The Abused Woman in John 8

The abuse of the young woman captured in this poem I shared in my last post speaks to the experience of the woman who is commonly referred to as the adulterous woman in John 8. However, interpreters have already labeled this woman, they have already given her a name. But, she could just as easily be described as the abused woman. The wretched woman. The used woman. The story of the abused woman begins while Jesus is teaching and a group of religious leaders burst onto the scene, bringing the woman and force her to stand, shamed and disgraced, in front of the entire crowd.

There is no explanation of who caught this woman, how she was seized, or where the other guilty party is.  Since the authorities are vague on how they came by this woman, bring forth no witnesses, and only arrested one of the guilty party, it is clear that they are not interested in justice.  In fact, they are violating their own laws by failing to bring forth witnesses and the other partner.  They have already passed judgment; they are clearly interested in something other justice and Jesus’ opinion on the matter.  The narrator makes it explicit when he explains that their interest is in trapping Jesus so that they may bring a charge against him.  The surrounding narrative makes clear that the ones who are supposed to be the experts in understanding the law of Moses are the ones who actually fail.  For the abusers, the law is a weapon to be used to gain power over opponents, and the woman who is used for bait is of no consequence to them.

          The Greek in this passage suggests she was snatched while in the very act of engaging in sex.  The witnesses must have seen the act itself.  This is the only way their testimony is valid.  However, no one in the scene ever specifies the identity of the witnesses.  Furthermore, no man is not brought before Jesus and accused of adultery.  Readers have been creative and constructed scenarios of why the woman’s lover is not present as well as try to attempt to answer the question of how the religious authorities got their hands on the woman. None of them are legal and none of them are fair.  

Maybe a man is asked to seduce a woman by the Pharisees and then is allowed to sneak away.  In this case, the authorities would also be guilty of sexual abuse. No background on the woman is given on how she was caught, but it is clear that the scribes and Pharisees are using her as nothing more than an instrument to arrest Jesus.  The woman is the victim of a trap. The authorities are not seeking justice; they are abusing the law and bending it to their desires.  They do not seek a trial, but a mob lynching.  A nameless woman is caught in the crossfire as the scribes and Pharisees attack Jesus.

          Before the narrator tells his audience this is a trap, the reader suspects the authorities’ of ulterior motives when they cite the law of Moses, but still ask what Jesus thinks of the matter.  Why would they ask Jesus his opinion if the law is clear on the issue?  Their minds are made up; the question is how Jesus will answer.  The religious authorities believe that Jesus will speak out against stoning this woman.  They desire to draw out an explicit statement from Jesus that values mercy over the letter of the law.  If Jesus sides against stoning her, he is guilty of breaking the law of Moses. This would cost him his credibility and many followers. Instead of answering, Jesus does something unexpected - he bends down and begins writing in the dirt.

The Abused Woman in John 8 (Part II)

A continuation of studying John 8:2-11:
"Jesus returned to the Mount of Olives, 2 but early the next morning he was back again at the Temple. A crowd soon gathered, and he sat down and taught them. 3 As he was speaking, the teachers of religious law and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in the act of adultery. They put her in front of the crowd. 4 “Teacher,” they said to Jesus, “this woman was caught in the act of adultery. 5 The law of Moses says to stone her. What do you say?”
 6 They were trying to trap him into saying something they could use against him, but Jesus stooped down and wrote in the dust with his finger. 7 They kept demanding an answer, so he stood up again and said, “All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!” 8 Then he stooped down again and wrote in the dust. 9 When the accusers heard this, they slipped away one by one, beginning with the oldest, until only Jesus was left in the middle of the crowd with the woman. 10 Then Jesus stood up again and said to the woman, “Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?” 11 “No, Lord,” she said. And Jesus said, “Neither do I. Go and sin no more.”

The story of the abused woman begins while Jesus is teaching and a group of religious leaders burst onto the scene, bringing the woman and force her to stand, shamed and disgraced, in front of the entire crowd.

There is no explanation of who caught this woman, how she was seized, or where the other guilty party is.  Since the authorities are vague on how they came by this woman, bring forth no witnesses, and only arrested one of the guilty party, it is clear that they are not interested in justice.  In fact, they are violating their own laws by failing to bring forth witnesses and the other partner.  They have already passed judgment; they are clearly interested in something other justice and Jesus’ opinion on the matter.  The narrator makes it explicit when he explains that their interest is in trapping Jesus so that they may bring a charge against him.  The surrounding narrative makes clear that the ones who are supposed to be the experts in understanding the law of Moses are the ones who actually fail.  For the abusers, the law is a weapon to be used to gain power over opponents, and the woman who is used for bait is of no consequence to them.

          The Greek in this passage suggests she was snatched while in the very act of engaging in sex.  The witnesses must have seen the act itself.  This is the only way their testimony is valid.  However, no one in the scene ever specifies the identity of the witnesses.  Furthermore, no man is not brought before Jesus and accused of adultery.  Readers have been creative and constructed scenarios of why the woman’s lover is not present as well as try to attempt to answer the question of how the religious authorities got their hands on the woman. None of them are legal and none of them are fair. 

Maybe a man is asked to seduce a woman by the Pharisees and then is allowed to sneak away.  In this case, the authorities would also be guilty of sexual abuse. No background on the woman is given on how she was caught, but it is clear that the scribes and Pharisees are using her as nothing more than an instrument to arrest Jesus.  The woman is the victim of a trap. The authorities are not seeking justice; they are abusing the law and bending it to their desires.  They do not seek a trial, but a mob lynching.  A nameless woman is caught in the crossfire as the scribes and Pharisees attack Jesus.

          Before the narrator tells his audience this is a trap, the reader suspects the authorities’ of ulterior motives when they cite the law of Moses, but still ask what Jesus thinks of the matter.  Why would they ask Jesus his opinion if the law is clear on the issue?  Their minds are made up; the question is how Jesus will answer.  The religious authorities believe that Jesus will speak out against stoning this woman.  They desire to draw out an explicit statement from Jesus that values mercy over the letter of the law.  If Jesus sides against stoning her, he is guilty of breaking the law of Moses. This would cost him his credibility and many followers. Instead of answering, Jesus does something unexpected - he bends down and begins writing in the dirt.

 

What's in A Name?: The Story of the Abused Woman

After looking at some of the ethical issues surrounding self-defense and violence against women (particularly sexual assault), I would like to share with you a biblical story that I have really come to treasure. I only started looking at this story differently earlier this year, when it suddenly occurred to me that the way I was taught this story (and how it continues to be taught) might be way off the mark – John 8:1-11.
 
“Jesus returned to the Mount of Olives, ² but early the next morning he was back again at the Temple. A crowd soon gathered, and he sat down and taught them. ³ As he was speaking, the teachers of religious law and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in the act of adultery. They put her in front of the crowd.⁴ “Teacher,” they said to Jesus, “this woman was caught in the act of adultery. ⁵ The law of Moses says to stone her. What do you say?”⁶ They were trying to trap him into saying something they could use against him, but Jesus stooped down and wrote in the dust with his finger. ⁷ They kept demanding an answer, so he stood up again and said, “All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!”⁸ Then he stooped down again and wrote in the dust.⁹ When the accusers heard this, they slipped away one by one, beginning with the oldest, until only Jesus was left in the middle of the crowd with the woman. ¹⁰ Then Jesus stood up again and said to the woman, “Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?”¹¹ “No, Lord,” she said.And Jesus said, “Neither do I. Go and sin no more” (New Living Translation).
 

Image: Woman Caught in Adultery, John Martin Borg, 2002

I wanted to try and sum up the woman’s viewpoint in this story.  I came across this poem a few months ago and it brought me to tears. I had a visceral reaction to it.  It sums up so many of the things I fear and things so many women (and men, but I am focusing on women in these posts) have had to live through and have had to find a way to continue to live with. I think it perfectly sums up the raw emotions of the woman in John 8 as well.

still

there are days

when there is no way

not even a chance

that i'd dare for even a second

glance at the reflection of m body in the mirror

and she knows why

like I know why

she only cries

when she feels like she's about to lose control

she knows how much control is worth

knows what a woman can lose

when her power is taken away

by a grip so thick with hate

it could clip the wings of an angel

leave the next eight generations of your blood shaking

and tonight something inside me is breaking

my heart beating so deep beneath the sheep of her pain

i could give every tear she's crying a year - a name

and a face i'd forever erase from her mind if i could

 just like she would 

for me

or you

but how much closer to free would any of us be

if even a few of us forgot

what too many women in this world cannot

and i'm thinking

what would you tell your daughter

your someday daughter

when you'd have to hold her beautiful face 

to the beat up face of this place

that hasn't learned the meaning of

STOP

walking to your car alone

get the keys in the lock

please please please please open

like already you can feel

that five fingered noose around your neck

two hundred pounds of hatred

digging graves into the sacred soil of your flesh

please please please please open

already you're chocking for your breath

listening for the broke record of the defense

answer the question

answer the question

answer the question miss

why am i on trial for this

would you talk to your daughter

your sister your mother like this

i am generation of daughters sisters mothers

our bodies battlefields

war grounds

beneath the weapons of your brother's hands

do you known they've found land mines 

in broken women's souls

black holes in the parts of their hearts

that once sand symphonies of creation

bright as the light on infinity's halo

she says

i remember the way love

used to glow like glitter on my skin

before he made his way in

now every tough feels like a sin

please

bruises  on her knees from praying to forget

she's heard stories of vietnam vets

who can still feel the tingling of their amputated limbs

she's wondering how many women are walking around this world

feeling the tingling of their amputated wings

remembering what it was to fly to sing

(By: Andrea Gibson http://www.endthesilencecampaign.org/poetry/andrea-gibson/blue-blanket/)

 
The abuse of the young woman captured in this poem speaks to the experience of the woman who is commonly referred to as “the adulterous woman in John 8.” We already labeled this woman, we have already given her a name. But she has no name in the story. She could just as easily be described as the abused woman. The wretched woman. The used woman. The story of the abused woman begins while Jesus is teaching and a group of religious leaders burst onto the scene, bringing the woman and force her to stand, shamed and disgraced, in front of the entire crowd.
 
_____________________________
Over the next week or two, I want to continue looking at this story in a new light. 

Women and Self Defense: Living in the Not Yet

          One aspect of exploring peace, violence, and self-defense is clear – it is difficult to have a black and white answer if you are attempting to answer honestly both Scripture as well as experience (fear of assault, the desire to protect others, etc.).  There are myriads of grey areas and numerous questions with no easy answers. I still have lingering doubts and uncertainties about this problem that has haunted me for years.  For example, it is difficult to tell a woman who has experienced rape that she must love her enemy.  On the other hand, it is problematic to take only yourself into consideration and not the New Testament ethic of concern for your neighbors and enemies.  It is a difficult balancing act and I doubt that I will ever be completely at peace with it.  For example, shouldn't I be striving to meet the ideals of God’s kingdom though it is not yet fully present?   Is it possible to come to an agreement on when it is proper to use violence and when it is not?  Is the “middle ground” I am treading on actually possible to reach a consensus on?  Is it all too subjective when it is justifiable to use violence and when it is not?  Is any situation where a woman experiences fear grounds for violence?  For example, if my purse is stolen, is it justifiable to use self-defense? Alternatively, should self-defense be used solely when bodily harm is threatened by an assailant?  How does one know for certain beforehand whether to use violence or not?
 

A person also has the issue of control.  When engaging in violence, you can never be sure of the outcome.  It is very easy to harm an attacker more than intended or for some other unforeseeable event to occur.   Additionally, where do you draw the line on how much violence to use?  Many people are perfectly content with using guns while others desire to use less lethal methods (As I’ve mentioned before, I am uncomfortable with guns – they are simply too lethal for me to feel morally comfortable with).  However, there is again the difficulty of never knowing when an act may be deadly.  I am left in the precarious position of balancing both love for enemy and love for self.  Until violence is done away with and God reigns fully among God’s people, this tension will exist.  Then, God “will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever” (Revelation 21:1-4).
 

One “cannot live responsibly by a love which is abstracted and divorced from justice, and from the rational and structural elements which constitute justice…but must be held together in unity of their polar tensions.”  It is within these tensions that I find the answer to my question.  I will seek to always love others, but there are some situations where the most loving act for all involved is to use controlled self-defense to stop the assault. Even more importantly, I will work to hone my skills in preventing violence (and promoting peace), because violence is always a sad and terrible thing, even if it helps others and is a lesser evil.  I recognize this as part of the narrative of Scripture.  We live in a time between Eden and the New Jerusalem – there is sin, violence, hatred, and a world full of pain. I acknowledge the need for protecting the vulnerable from the powerful until that time.  I also recognize that violence belongs to this time of chaos and not to the time of the New Jerusalem. We live in the Not Yet - God's Kingdom has not yet fully come.  Avoiding assault through self-defense may be the lesser evil, but it still is tainted – it is not the ideal.  I long for the days when people can live together peaceably in the New Jerusalem. But that time has not yet arrived. Nonetheless, I yearn for this time of peace and safety, when women no longer have to worry about rape and sexual assault. One day I will stop looking over my shoulder and viewing most males as a potential threat. Until that time, I will continue to wade through the murky waters of loving others but using restrained violence (if absolutely necessary) in order to stop this epidemic that plagues women the world over. 

The Good, the Bad, and the Kingdom of God: Narratives and Responsibility in a Violent Assault

When I look back at what it is that bothers me so much about self-defense, I find that I am torn between caring for myself (or others) and the larger narrative of the kingdom of God. The narrative of the kingdom of God is the larger framework in which I view the world; it is the lens through which I see the world. However, I combine this picture of what the kingdom of God means with the ethic of responsibility to self and others in order to help figure out what on earth the ethics of the kingdom of God looks like in various situations. 

The Narrative of the Kingdom of God

Narrative ethics sets the stage for my concern about self and others.  Here, I ask myself “Who am I becoming?  Who are we becoming?” and what do my actions contribute to the larger world narrative. This was the question that triggered my quandary– I did not want to be a violent person. I became concerned that my obsession for personal safety was so inwardly focused that it was making me become a person I did not want to be (as a side note, you can practice self-defense but you must consider the effect is has on you and the world. This is where I began to run into problems).  It is not a list of rules that appeal to me and set my morals, but the vision of God’s kingdom. God’s kingdom is not centered around doing what is best for me and mind. There is a much larger picture that sets the story for our interactions with the world.  Hauerwas writes, “to be Christian is not principally to obey certain commandments or rules, but to learn to grow into the story of Jesus as the form of God’s kingdom.  We express that by saying we must learn to be disciples.”  What we ought to do must be connected to who we are and the story that we are a part of.  “Through story, we interpret, evaluate, and envision the world – and determine our roles and responsibilities within it.”

One idea that is vital to me is the interconnectedness of all people.  There is an overarching story that is seen throughout the Bible and especially in the Gospel.  Ideas from the Christian narrative that are central to this narrative are that we are all sinners and live in a fallen world.  This does not excuse criminal activity and harming others, but it does help understand how we are connected.  Many people create a binary of good and bad people, but we are each marred by sin. We each have our own life and background that creates a complicated picture of every person.  Additionally, the idea that Christ can redeem and save even the darkest of hearts is important – our binary of good people and bad people is again challenged if we believe that God’s forgiveness is open to every “bad person.”  We are to model ourselves after Christ, who sees each of us a potential member of the Kingdom of God.  Finally, all human life is important and each person is made in the image of God. These few ideas are what I see and think of when I think of the Kingdom of God as being the background to our lives.

            I frame my life in this overarching storyline.  I believe who I am and what I do contributes to that story, and that this narrative should affect me and all of my actions.  However, what this looks like can be different depending on who is telling the story. The “law of love” is interpreted differently by every person.

The law of love is too general to tell us when we ought to do what a commandment tells us not to do.  We need more than love, say, to tell us when we “ought” to shoot a human being.  We need solid evidence that it is necessary to break a commandment in order to respect both the rights and needs of someone for whom we are responsible. We need a reasonable indication that breaking a commandment will serve the cause of justice as well as the law of love.[1] 

The second idea I want to use to help guide the narrative and the role I play in it is the idea of responsibility.

Adding a Dash of Responsibility to the Law of Love

The narrative of Christianity leaves us with a very broad set of ethics.  Adding the idea of responsibility helps to refine our personal roles in the larger narrative into manageable portions.  An ethic of responsibility focuses on the response we give to action upon us, but it also looks at the larger ramifications of our actions.  It seeks to balance the interests of the larger narrative as well as the individual players. 

In my moral dilemma, the question arises as to whom I responsible to in a dangerous situation?  My initial instinct is to take care of myself; however, the narrative ethic I looked at above demands that I also consider everyone involved – including the assailant.  While seeking various perspectives on this issue, I have become frustrated by the false dichotomy that many make: if you are a pacifist, you are faithful to the gospel but irresponsible socially and if you are for violent intervention, you are being unfaithful to the gospel but acting responsibly.[2]  I have a responsibility to consider my enemy, but I can also protest against sexual assault.  If one contends for even a minimal amount of consideration towards one’s neighbors, then one has the responsibility to do the least amount of harm in order to escape to safety.  This does not mean that no offensive actions can be taken, but it does restrict what self-defense one can use (shooting to kill, for example, should not be one’s first response).

Since one has a responsibility to one’s enemy, one of the most important practices to cultivate is preventative self-defense. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that each person has a moral obligation to cultivate these skills. These include things such as being aware of one’s surroundings, keeping doors locked, and not walking alone. People (and I am especially calling out all WOMEN to look out for one another) must realize that these little precautions may be what saves her from walking into a potentially dangerous situation where violence, assault, and even death can occur.  If a confrontation does arise, attracting attention to your situation and showing that you are willing to put up a fight are often all one needs to scare off an attacker (as I did in the story I shared in my last post).  The last resort should be physical violence, BUT it is an ethically acceptable step to keep one safe as well as to keep the assailant from harming himself.  Intervening with a controlled amount of violence in dangerous situations is taking responsibility for self as well as the assailant.

In sum, this is a difficult decision on “how to incorporate what we believe love and justice together dictate,” but never to separate the two.  I deeply desire and long for the day when violence is no longer needed.  Until that time, I will use non-violent but active methods of self-defense in the majority of situations; I will continually train in prevention as an act of love to myself and to my enemies. However, I am not unfaithful to the gospel or unethical if the need for self-defense does arise and I use a controlled amount of force to stop the situation.
 

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[1] As a side note, I am really uncomfortable with killing as a morally justifiable or even a morally laudable action.  However, this quote can be applied to self-defense and responsibility in general. Guns are still a twisted moral knot I am trying to untie, but I do not include them in my definition of self-defense because they are simply too deadly.  As I mentioned in my last blog, this has absolutely nothing to do with laws or rights. This is a moral issue that I am trying to work out. The law says I may own a gun, but I am not convinced that it is morally justifiable at this point. My thoughts may change on the subject (they are constantly turning over the moral implications of carrying a gun), but that is where I am at right now. I cannot morally justify owning a gun to myself. It conflicts too greatly with my responsibility to love my neighbor and love my enemy.

[2] At a recent conference, one of my past professors, David Matson, argued against the popular pacifist movements in many churches and denominations.  While we may strive for peace, refusing to intervene may actually be perpetrating more violence.  The example he used was whether or not a pacifist should intervene if a woman is going to be raped. He argued that not acting would be causing more violence than forcibly stopping the rape.  However, it is important to also remember that not all situations are best handled with violence. In my last post, I shared a terrifying ordeal I had with a dangerous stranger in a parking lot. It would have been irresponsible and much more dangerous to have used physical violence in that situation instead of yelling at the guy. Violence is ALWAYS dangerous (to everyone involved) and should ALWAYS be a last resort.