A first year law student could tell you it was an open and shut case.

The finest trial lawyer in town couldn't have gotten her out of this one.

"Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery" (Jn 8:3-4). The accusers have everything they need: a crime, a defendant, witnesses, accusers, a law, proof ... and now all they needed was a judge, a trial, and a sentence.

And so, the proceedings begin. It seems there is Another, a second Defendant, in the background.

The words are put to Jesus: "What do you say?" (Jn 8:5).

In response, "Jesus bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger" (Jn 8:6). He bends down not to pick up stone, but, as in the action of Genesis, to create. Jesus wrote "on the ground with his finger," just as the finger of God wrote human existence into the earth and the law on tablets of stone (Ex 31:18).

But the accusers persist and push: "But when they continued asking him, he straightened up and said to them, 'Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.' Again he bent down and wrote on the ground" (Jn 8:7-8).

The accusers become the accused, and the verdict is handed down.  The penalty decreed. The case is not open and shut, afterall. In fact, where others shut, Jesus opens (cf. Rev 3:7).

"And, in response, they went away one by one, beginning with the elders" (Jn 8:9). They leave one by one. Why? Because of love. They must depart in isolation.

The stones of punishment fall useless before the Rock of Ages.

Jesus wrote a word of mercy, but the accusers literally cannot stand mercy and love. The accusers measure, but faithful love is immeasurable. They blame, but true love is blameless. They can only accuse, but true love is innocent. The psalmist says, "How precious is your mercy, O God! ... See how the evil doers fall, flung down they shall never arise" (Ps 36:8,13).

After they depart, the makeshift courtroom becomes a confessional: "So he was left alone with the woman before him" (Jn 8:9).

He cross-examines the witness: "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?" (Jn 8:10). Is he referring to the Pharisees and scribes, or to her sins?

In either case, they are gone.

Mercy has driven both away.

At last, she has her opportunity to speak: "No one, sir" (Jn 8:11). St. Augustine tells us that with the words "No one" the woman confesses her sin to Jesus, and with the word "sir," translated "Lord" she confesses her faith in Him.

"Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin any more" (Jn 8:11).

The theology of the body becomes the New Evangelization most notably in the forgiveness of sins, in the Sacrament of Penance, in which mercy writes indelible love upon our hearts.