LENT IS A JOURNEY INTO THE DEPTHS OF GOD’S MERCY

Homily for the Fifth Sunday in Lent, Year C

Fr. Ugochukwu Ugwoke, ISch

Bible Texts: Isaiah 43:16-21; Philippians 3:8-14; John 8:1-11

Our Lenten journey so far has taken us to several symbolic locations. On the First Sunday, we entered the desert, where Jesus was tempted, teaching us to confront our weaknesses and temptations. On the Second Sunday, we ascended the mountain of Transfiguration to witness Christ’s glory and renew our commitment to listen to him. The Third Sunday brought us to the fig tree in the vineyard, a place of patient spiritual cultivation and urgent repentance. On the Fourth Sunday, we followed the road back home, alongside the prodigal son, to rediscover the Father’s love and call to return.

On this fifth Sunday, we find ourselves in a courtyard, caught in the tension between law and mercy, judgment and forgiveness. Similar to what happened last Sunday, today’s journey takes us into the depths of God’s mercy, inviting us to lay down the stones of condemnation and embrace the liberating power of divine compassion.

The first reading from the book of the prophet Isaiah reminds us that God is not bound by our past - “Remember not the former things… Behold, I am doing a new thing” (Isaiah 43:18-19). In the context of Israel’s exile, God promised not just physical restoration but a spiritual renewal, opening paths in the desert and providing rivers in wastelands. This “new thing” is not merely historical - it is fulfilled in Christ. Through Jesus, God offers us a new beginning every time we repent. Lent is not about staying stuck in shame or guilt, but about recognizing that God’s mercy constantly opens a path forward. He is a God of new beginnings (Lamentations 3:22–23).

With the story of the woman caught in the act of adultery, the Gospel reading presents one of the most profound encounters with God’s mercy. The law of Moses prescribed death by stoning for anyone caught in the act of adultery (Leviticus 20:10). But when the woman was brought to Jesus, he turned the tables. He did not deny the law but revealed its true purpose - not condemnation, but restoration.

Notice Jesus’ posture: he stooped to write on the ground. Twice. Many biblical scholars have speculated about what he wrote, but perhaps the more important detail is his refusal to join the chorus of condemnation. While the crowd clung to legalism, Jesus invited them: “Let the one without sin cast the first stone” (John 8:7). At that, all the accusers walked away, and when Jesus was left alone with the woman, he did not excuse her sin, but neither did he crush her with it. His words carried both truth and tenderness: “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more.” This is the heart of Lent - not a season of crushing guilt, but of transforming mercy. Jesus does not ignore sin, but he offers the grace to overcome it.

We often read this story and identify with the woman - and rightly so. All of us have sinned and fallen short (Romans 3:23). But we must also ask: Are we sometimes among the accusers? Quick to judge others, slow to show mercy? Lent challenges us to drop the stones of self-righteousness and recognize our shared need for grace and mercy. It calls us to mirror the mercy of the Father - to become instruments of healing, not harm. As Pope Francis would always remind us, the Church is a field hospital, not a courtroom.

Dear friend, as we draw nearer to Holy Week, today’s liturgy calls us to dwell in the courtyard of mercy, where Jesus stands between sin and grace, between judgment and hope. He does not minimize sin - but he maximizes mercy. Let us approach Jesus with honesty and humility. Let us let go of shame, of past failures, of grudges, of stones we carry so that like the woman, we too can hear those liberating words deep in our hearts: “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more.”