Jesus, Mobs and Mercy

Last week I wrote about the constant litany of terrible things that happen all around us, and how to deal with the associated burden of grief (link). To follow up, I have also been fascinated by watching the way we respond when bad things happen to good people, and also when bad things happen to bad people. There is plenty to observe.

One story from Christ’s life keeps coming to my mind, so I’d better mention it. First, the story as John wrote it (John 8:2-11)

And early in the morning he came again into the temple, and all the people came unto him; and he sat down, and taught them. And the scribes and Pharisees brought unto him a woman taken in adultery; and when they had set her in the midst,

They say unto him, Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act. Now Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou?

This they said, tempting him, that they might have to accuse him. But Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground, as though he heard them not. So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.”

And again he stooped down, and wrote on the ground.

And they which heard it, being convicted by their ownconscience, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest, even unto the last: and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst.

When Jesus had lifted up himself, and saw none but the woman, he said unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee?

She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more. 

A few thoughts:

• The public execution mentality the scribes and the Pharisees displayed was not uncommon for the time. The Law of Moses DID dictate that adulterers could be stoned. In this instance, it was not out of character, nor unjustified.

• One interesting aspect of stoning is that the witnesses throw the first stones, then every member of the community throws a stone – that way each individual participant could make the same claim: “Hey, it wasn’t ME, I didn’t kill her!”  Essentially, you get “killed by committee.”

• The group did go to the Savior with the hope of tricking Him into saying something that would either a) be blasphemous, or b) get Him in trouble with the Romans who ruled at that time.

• Jesus had already been on the other end of the mob mentality. They tried to throw Him off a cliff (Luke 4:30), and later in the very same chapter (John 8:59), they attempt to stone Him as well – same gang, again at the temple.

• Rather than lead or join the mob in stoning the woman, Jesus did something completely different: He ignored them. Flat out refusing to get caught up in the groupthink hysteria.

• Instead, He busied Himself writing in the dirt. Now, I might be wrong on this, but the only other time I can find a reference to Jesus ever writing something was when He wrote out the 10 Commandments for Moses – in stone, with His finger. (Exodus 31:18) I would LOVE to know what He wrote in the dirt!

• He then put everything into an perspective with one, brutal charge: “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.” While they processed the damning question, He got back to ignoring them, and writing on the ground.

• Whatever He wrote, and the reproof He served them, seemed to take the wind out of their sails, and send them off, one by one. In my imagination, I can hear the stones hitting the ground as they were sheepishly dropped by the departing accusers.

• After the crowd dispersed, Christ then got about His business. He told the woman, essentially: “Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.”

• He didn’t humiliate her, demean her, or make fun of her. He did not damn her, threaten her or lecture her. (Although He rightfully could have.) He did not gather His followers or disciples around and make a public spectacle of her sin – quite the contrary – He had just helped that very thing to blow over.

• What He did do was condemn the sin. He assuredly did not tell her it was “okay.” He told her to knock it off. Then He sent her away. Alive, with a new chance for a better life.

• From the Joseph Smith Translation, we learn that afterwards, she was a changed woman, “And the woman glorified God from that hour, and believed on his name.”

• Christ showed mercy, instead of vengeance. Kindness instead of rage. He minimized the public involvement, rather than putting her on display. It was a personal, quiet moment between the two, a stunning contrast to what might have happened, had the crowd had their way.

Where am I going with this? I’ll try and distill it before I dissect it: For every terrible thing that someone does, we have the agency to choose our reaction. It seems that more and more often, our reactions resemble the mob groupthink mentality, rather than the quiet mercy the Savior showed.

Case in point: I was having a conversation with a friend about some terrible thing someone had done, and my friend said this: “I’m not going to pass judgment on him – at least not until I have more details about what happened.”

I’ve been chewing on that phrase all week, because I’m pretty sure I have said similar things lately. It is sticky. You see it, right?

First of all, when I start a sentence with “I’m not going to pass judgment on him,” I should stop right there. Why? Because as soon as I add conditions, such as “until I have more details,” I am opening the door to joining the mob.

And it is a very active, angry, loud and welcoming mob. Our impulse to grab a verbal pitchfork and start chanting is a very natural thing. “The natural man and woman in each of us has a tendency to condemn others and to judge unrighteously, or self-righteously.” (Elder Lynn G. Robbins)

President George Albert Smith adds this: “But if we have the spirit of fault finding … in a destructive manner, that never comes as a result of the companionship of the Spirit of our Heavenly Father and is always harmful.” (link)

“Always.”

I am sure that Christ’s example to us would serve me well when I am struggling with my ‘Natural Man’ inclinations to condemn and “verbally stone” adulterers, or cowardly policemen, or sloppy detectives, or dishonest politicians, or mass murderers, or social and political pundits, or anyone who disagrees with me about anything.

But it is not my place. I don’t have to pick up a stone and join the fray. I shouldn’t pick up a stone and join the fray. Public executions are no longer part of our religious law.

Finding that degree of mercy and charity is not always simple. Sometimes the offenses that happen seem so egregious that I feel compelled to pick up a torch, a pitchfork or a stone, create a hashtag, and shout about it from the rooftops. It feels strangely noble to actively hate the sinner and the sin – even if the sinner – or their sin – did not impact me directly.

Yet it is not my place. I am charged to forgive. I can ignore. As painfully simple as it sounds, this instance is one where the mantra “What would Jesus do?” is perfectly clear.

Christ would eventually be brought before a mob who would chant “Crucify him.” He knew His own public execution was still to come. Even so, he still taught, “Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt lovethy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven:” (Matthew 5:43-45)

#Mercy

Elder Dale G. Renlund said last April, “…in our lifelong quest to follow Jesus Christ, His example of kindness to those who sin is particularly instructive. We, who are sinners, must, like the Savior, reach out to others with compassion and love. Our role is also to help and bless, lift and edify, and replace fear and despair with hope and joy…Jesus Christ also set the example for us to follow—to show respect to all and hatred toward none.” (link)

If I had been alive 2,000 years ago, I’d be pretty sure the woman did commit adultery, as they caught her in the act. I am also sure that I would understand the Law and its consequences as it applied at the time. I also, sadly, recognize that I might very well have picked up a rock…

Thankfully, the Savior has shown me what mercy looks like. He has exemplified what it means to forgive. He has taught me the beauty of second-chances. He has helped me understand that judging others is rarely my business, and condemning them is never my business. I’ve got enough stuff to worry about that I don’t need to add public executions to my plate, thankyouverymuch.

I do not need to pick up a rock.

If you want to dig in deeper to how these things fit within our current culture, read Elder Christofferson’s epic talk from last April Conference. It is truly jaw-dropping and prescient. “The Voice of Warning.”

Etching by. Carl Bloch, “Writing in the Sand.”