Some of you many remember a sight that now is very rare, in this country. Since 1993 this framing practice has been restricted because of air pollution. But when I was little, after the wheat harvest, the practice was to put fire to the stubble, and the fires drove across the fields, fanned by the wind. I remember seeing the flames and hearing the crackle and it was absolutely thrilling! Afterwards, the coating of dust and ashes, covered not just the fields, but also our house windows and cars.
Today we are marking the beginning of Lent, in which we offer ourselves, like fields, to God’s grace. We receive the dust of ashes on our skin as a sign of desire that all that stands between us and God might be cleared away, burnt away, by the fire of the Holy Spirit, ‘to dust and ashes in its heat consuming’. Expressing the desire that we might be shriven, ready to be made anew, given a new start.
What is it that stands in the way? Theres so much to choose from: selfishness, self-importance, pride, resentment, fear, pettiness, old habits. The list is endless, but so is Gods patience and love.
The Moon currently suspended in the Nave reminds us that God is the creator not just of the earth, but of fathomless space: of planets and stars and moons, of galaxies and the whole universe. This God beyond our comprehension also cares for each of us, knows us intimately and came on earth to be with us. God who is beyond our comprehension holds each of us precious, known and loved.
In contrast, our gospel reading shows us Jesus confronted with human condemnation and cruelty. When he is in the Temple in Jerusalem, some of the respectable people come to Jesus bringing a woman with them who has been caught in the act of adultery. The woman isn’t important to them, but simply a means to catch Jesus into saying something that they can use against him. The woman is dehumanised by them in the process of being used. How awful for her, to be caught in intimacy, accused in public, threatened with a most painful death by public stoning.
Jesus responds strangely, he remains silent, bends down and writes with his finger on the ground. He creates a space, he makes time for something to happen and only then he says, ‘Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her…’ And then once again he bends down, writes on the ground, silently, again opening up time and space. And something wonderful happens in them. We’re told that they all go away, one by one, beginning with the elders. Instead of letting them continue to condemn her, Jesus turns it round and confronts them with themselves. A gift of self-understanding is given to them, that they are not innocent of sin – how could they be? Jesus, kneeling down, being silent, has opened a space for honesty, self-understanding, and perhaps, compassion.
Which is what a good Lent is all about, some time and space, to let in Gods light, to see ourselves with a little more honesty and self-understanding. To indulge in less condemnation and practice more compassion, for others, and for ourselves.
And just notice, that Jesus, the only one there without sin, the one person who could condemn her, also refuses to do so. Jesus credits this nameless woman with human agency and choice. ‘Go on your way,’ he says, ‘and from now on do not sin again.’
May God bless us today, and this Lent with the joy of letting go of what separates us from the grace, mercy and compassion of God. May we let go of condemnation and rest in compassion, turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ.
Amen.