A reading from the prophet Isaiah (43:16-21)
Thus says the Lord,
who made a way through the sea,
a path in the mighty waters,
who led out chariot and horse,
a mighty army together.
‘They lay down no more to rise,
they were snuffed out, put out like a wick.
No need to remember past events,
to harp on what was done before.
Look, I am about to do something new,
now it is springing up; can you not see it?
I am making a road in the desert and rivers in wastelands.
The wild animals will honour me,
the jackals and the ostriches,
for I am giving water in the desert
and rivers through the wastelands
for my people, my chosen ones, to drink.
The people I have formed for myself will declare my praise.’
In response to the laments of the people the prophets of the exile announce that God is going to do a ‘new deed’. For the Second Isaiah there is no need to recall the exodus from Egypt, when God ‘made a way through the sea’ and demonstrated faithful love towards the people. Now, in the depths of exile in Babylon, the Lord says ‘something new’ is about to be seen. Even the natural world will be changed, for God is ‘making a road in the desert and rivers in wastelands’ to enable the people to return home. The most unlikely creatures, jackals and ostriches, will give glory to God, for God provides water for animals and human beings, a sign of enduring care for the whole creation. If the past deeds of God were glorious, how much more glorious will be God’s new deeds. Praise of God is the logical outcome, as the works of God are told to future generations.
Psalm 126 (125) Liberation from slavery with joyful singing, which had been impossible during the exile (Ps 137:4), is celebrated here. Jubilation will replace tears.
A reading from the letter of St Paul to the Philippians (3:8-14)
Yes, I will go further: because of the supreme advantage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, I count everything else as loss. For him I have accepted the loss of all other things, and look on them all as filth if only I can gain Christ and be found in him, having not my own righteousness from the Law, but righteousness from God through faith in Christ, based on faith, that I may come to know him and the power of his resurrection, and partake of his sufferings by being moulded to the pattern of his death, if somehow I may reach the goal of resurrection from the dead.
Not that I have secured it already, nor yet reached my goal; but I am still pursuing it, in the attempt to take hold of the prize for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not reckon myself as having taken hold of it; but one thing is that forgetting all that lies behind me, and straining forward to what lies ahead, I am racing towards the finishing-point to win the prize of God’s heavenly call in Christ Jesus.
Paul writes to his dear Philippian Christians from prison, sharing the depth of his faith and love for Christ Jesus, crucified and risen. This passage might be regarded as Paul’s ‘confession of faith’. His knowing Jesus is a ‘supreme advantage’ which makes everything else insignificant. His ‘righteousness’ comes not from the Law, as he once thought, but from faith in Christ, which rules out the need to justify oneself by works. Paul is clear that this journey is not over for him and lasts throughout life. Sharing in the suffering and death of Christ he longs for the resurrection. He yearns for the ‘prize’ of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus. He ‘races’ like an athlete towards the ‘finishing-point’.
A reading from the holy gospel according to John (8:1-11)
Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.
At daybreak he appeared in the Temple again; and the whole people came to him, and he sat down and began to teach them. The scribes and Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery; and making her stand there in the middle they said to Jesus, ‘Teacher, this woman has been caught in the very act of committing adultery. In the Law Moses ordered us to stone women of this kind. What do you say?’ This they said testing him, so that they might have an accusation to bring against him. But Jesus bent down and started writing on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said, ‘Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.’ Then bending down again he continued writing on the ground. When they heard this they went away one by one, beginning with the eldest, until the last one had gone and Jesus was left alone with the woman, standing in the middle. Then Jesus straightened up and said to her, ‘Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?’ She replied, ‘No one, sir.’ Then Jesus said, ‘Neither do I condemn you. Go! And from now on do not sin again.’
The woman in this gospel passage is a victim, twice over. She is a victim of whoever committed adultery with her, who has disappeared from the scene. She is then the victim of the group of religious leaders who bring her before Jesus as if for a trial. Jesus too is under threat: is he to abide by the strict letter of the Law and condemn her? Is this question, like that about taxes to Caesar, designed as a trap? The silence of Jesus is eloquent, and forces a pause. His twice ‘writing on the ground’ allows for hesitation, both for those driving the ‘trial’, and for today’s reader. No one condemns the woman, and Jesus himself says: ‘Neither do I condemn you.’ Jesus effectively opens new life for the woman, and perhaps even for her accusers too.
What does the silence of Jesus say?
For all women who suffer, we pray.