The Accuser's Gambit Text: John 8:1-11
Introduction: A Courtroom in the Temple
We come this morning to a passage that is a perfect microcosm of the gospel. It is a courtroom drama staged in the Temple courts, with a guilty defendant, malicious prosecutors, a silent jury, and a judge who turns the entire case on its head. This is not a quaint story about being nice to people. This is a story about the collision of two worlds: the world of merciless, hypocritical religion, and the world of rugged, sin-killing grace.
The scribes and Pharisees, the religious establishment of the day, thought they had Jesus trapped. They had constructed what they believed was a perfect dilemma, a theological and political snare with no escape. They brought to Him a woman caught in the very act of adultery, and they demanded a verdict. Their question was a weapon, designed to destroy Him no matter how He answered. If He upheld the law of Moses and said, "Stone her," He would lose the favor of the common people who were drawn to His message of mercy, and He would also run afoul of the Roman authorities, who had reserved the right of capital punishment for themselves. If He set aside the law and said, "Let her go," they could immediately denounce Him as a false teacher, a lawbreaker, a man who had no respect for the holy commandments of God.
But these men were not interested in the law of God. They were interested in the destruction of the Son of God. Their hypocrisy is rank from the very beginning. The law of Moses was clear that in a case of adultery, both the man and the woman were to be put to death (Deut. 22:22). So where is the man? You cannot catch a woman "in the very act" of adultery by herself. The man was either one of their own, whom they protected, or they let him go because he was not useful for their trap. They did not care about righteousness; they cared about leverage. They were not defending God's honor; they were attempting to assassinate God's Son. They took a broken, sinful woman and made her a piece of bait. This is the nature of legalism. It uses the law of God not to produce holiness, but to produce death, both for its victims and, ultimately, for its practitioners.
In this confrontation, we see the absolute brilliance of our Lord. He does not set aside the law. He upholds it more profoundly than the Pharisees could have ever imagined. And in doing so, He does not condemn the sinner. He saves her. This is the gospel in miniature. It is a story that shows us how God can be both just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.
The Text
But Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. Early in the morning He came again into the temple, and all the people were coming to Him; and He sat down and began to teach them. The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, and having set her in the center of the court, they said to Him, "Teacher, this woman has been caught in adultery, in the very act. Now in the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women; what then do You say?" They were saying this, testing Him, so that they might have evidence to accuse Him. But Jesus stooped down and with His finger wrote on the ground. But when they persisted in asking Him, He straightened up and said to them, "Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her." Again He stooped down and wrote on the ground. When they heard it, they began to go out one by one, beginning with the older ones, and He was left alone, and the woman, where she was, in the center of the court. Straightening up, Jesus said to her, "Woman, where are they? Did no one condemn you?" She said, "No one, Lord." And Jesus said, "I do not condemn you, either. Go, and from now on sin no more."
(John 8:1-11 LSB)
The Trap is Set (vv. 1-6a)
The scene is set with a stark contrast. Jesus is in the Temple, the house of God, teaching the people. This is where He belongs. He is the true Word, the true Teacher, the reality to which the entire Temple system pointed. And into this place of light and truth, the forces of darkness bring their manufactured crisis.
"The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, and having set her in the center of the court, they said to Him, 'Teacher, this woman has been caught in adultery, in the very act. Now in the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women; what then do You say?' They were saying this, testing Him, so that they might have evidence to accuse Him." (John 8:3-6a LSB)
They put her "in the center." This is a public spectacle. It is ritual shaming. Their goal is maximum exposure, both for her and for Jesus. They call Him "Teacher," but it is a word dripping with contempt. They are not students seeking wisdom; they are prosecutors setting a legal snare. They cite the law, and they cite it accurately enough. The penalty for adultery was death. Their question, "what then do You say?" is the snapping of the trap.
The text is explicit about their motive. They were "testing Him, so that they might have evidence to accuse Him." This is the heart of all false religion. It is not concerned with truth, but with accusation. The word Satan, after all, means "the accuser." These men, standing in the Temple of God, were doing the work of the devil. They were taking God's holy law and using it as a bludgeon. They represent the spirit of legalism that cannot rejoice in grace, cannot forgive sin, and can only find satisfaction in the condemnation of others. They are the older brother in the story of the prodigal son, standing outside the father's house, bitter and resentful that grace has been shown to a sinner.
The Divine Finger (vv. 6b-8)
Jesus's response to this high-stakes confrontation is utterly unexpected. He does not engage in their debate. He does not offer a legal opinion. He stoops down.
"But Jesus stooped down and with His finger wrote on the ground. But when they persisted in asking Him, He straightened up and said to them, 'Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.' Again He stooped down and wrote on the ground." (John 8:6b-8 LSB)
This is a moment of supreme authority disguised as inaction. What did He write? The Bible doesn't tell us, and that is the point. The speculation is endless. Perhaps He wrote the sins of the accusers, as Jeremiah 17:13 says, "those who turn away from You will be written in the earth." Perhaps He was writing the Tenth Commandment, "You shall not covet your neighbor's wife," the very sin that leads to adultery. But the act itself is the message. There is only one other place in all of Scripture where God writes with His own finger. That was at Mount Sinai, when He wrote the Ten Commandments on tablets of stone (Ex. 31:18). Here, in the Temple court, the Lawgiver Himself has stooped down to the dust out of which man was made, and He is writing. He is not intimidated. He is not trapped. He is taking control of the entire situation.
When they persist, He straightens up and delivers His verdict. But the verdict is not for the woman; it is for them. "Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her." This is not an abrogation of the law. This is the most profound application of the law. He is not saying that only perfect people can enforce laws. He is saying that those who would participate in the execution of a capital crime must themselves be free from the hypocrisy of condemning a sin they are also guilty of in their hearts. He is calling for true witnesses, not malicious plotters. He is turning the piercing light of God's law back on them. The law they used as a weapon against the woman and against Him has now become a mirror for their own souls. And then He stoops down again, giving them a quiet, merciful moment to let the conviction sink in and retreat without a direct confrontation.
The Accusers Dismissed (v. 9)
The Word of Christ does its work. It is sharper than any two-edged sword, and it pierced their self-righteous armor.
"When they heard it, they began to go out one by one, beginning with the older ones, and He was left alone, and the woman, where she was, in the center of the court." (John 8:9 LSB)
Their case has collapsed. The prosecutors have been convicted by their own consciences. They slink away, one by one. Notice that it begins with the "older ones." They had the most to remember, the longest record of sin filed away in their hearts. The ones who should have been the wisest were the most convicted. Their exit is a silent confession of their own guilt. They came to stone a woman for one sin, and they left under the weight of a lifetime of their own.
And then we have this beautiful, stark image: Jesus is left alone with the woman. The accusers are gone. The crowd has faded back. All that remains is the sinner and the Savior. The guilty one is now standing before the only one in the universe who was truly "without sin." The only one who had the right to throw a stone. The human court has been dismissed. The divine court is now in session.
The Verdict of Grace (vv. 10-11)
Jesus straightens up again. He had stooped to deal with the pride of the accusers. He now stands to deal with the shame of the accused.
"Straightening up, Jesus said to her, 'Woman, where are they? Did no one condemn you?' She said, 'No one, Lord.' And Jesus said, 'I do not condemn you, either. Go, and from now on sin no more.'" (John 8:10-11 LSB)
His question is gentle. "Woman, where are they?" He is making her see that her accusers have been silenced and dismissed. The threat is gone. "Did no one condemn you?" Her answer, "No one, Lord," is a confession of her deliverance and an acknowledgment of His authority. She calls Him "Lord."
And then comes the verdict that stands at the heart of the Christian faith. "I do not condemn you, either." This is astounding. The one person who had the moral and legal right to condemn her, refuses to do so. Why? Is it because her sin was not serious? No. It is because He knew that He would go to the cross and bear her condemnation Himself. He would take the stones for her. He would suffer the full penalty that her sin, and our sin, deserved. He can say "I do not condemn you" because on Calvary, He would be condemned for her. This is the great exchange. This is justification by faith.
But His grace does not end there. It is not cheap grace. It is a transforming grace. The very next words out of His mouth are a command: "Go, and from now on sin no more." Forgiveness of the past is immediately tied to holiness in the future. He liberates her from the penalty of her sin, and in the same breath, He liberates her from the power of her sin. He does not say, "Go and do your best." He says, "Sin no more." This is the call to sanctification. True grace does not give us a license to sin; it gives us a command to stop and the power to obey. He saves her from her sin, not in her sin.
Conclusion: In the Center of the Court
This story is our story. We are all that woman. We are all guilty. We have all been caught in the very act, and the law of God rightly condemns us. The accuser, Satan, stands before the throne of God, pointing to the law and demanding our death. He has a very good case.
But our advocate, Jesus Christ, is there. He does not argue that we are innocent. He does not argue that the law is unjust. He stoops down and points to the dust of His own tomb, now empty. He points to His hands and His side. He silences the accuser not by dismissing our sin, but by presenting His payment for our sin.
And to all who stand before Him, not in self-righteous pride like the Pharisees, but in broken humility like this woman, He asks the same question: "Where are your accusers?" The law has been satisfied. Satan has been silenced. And then He speaks the same verdict over us: "Neither do I condemn you." This is the glorious freedom of the gospel.
And with that freedom comes the same commission. "Go, and sin no more." We have been forgiven much, so we must love much. And that love is demonstrated through obedience. We are to leave the courtroom, not to return to the sin that brought us there, but to walk in newness of life, empowered by the Spirit and motivated by a profound gratitude for the one who refused to throw a stone, because He was preparing to be crushed by a cross.