Justice revealed, mercy given


Fifth Monday of Lent
23 March 2026

Justice revealed, mercy given

Beginning this week, Lent takes a noticeable turn. The Church shifts from general themes of repentance and renewal into a more direct focus on the Passion. The tension surrounding Jesus becomes more visible. Opposition sharpens. The conflict between truth and sin is no longer subtle—it is exposed. And today’s readings place us right in the middle of that tension, showing us both the ugliness of sin and the power of God’s justice and mercy.

The first reading from Daniel tells the story of Susanna—a woman falsely accused, publicly shamed, and nearly condemned to death. Two elders, respected men, abuse their authority and attempt to force her into sin. When she refuses, they turn the accusation on her.

What is striking is not only the injustice, but how convincing it appears. The accusation is believable. The witnesses are trusted. The system is ready to condemn her.

And Susanna stands alone.

She has no evidence. No defense that others will accept. Only the truth and her trust in God. And at the critical moment, when everything seems lost, she cries out to the Lord. And God hears her cry.

Through Daniel, the truth is revealed. The false accusers are exposed. Justice is restored—not because the system worked, but because God intervened.

Now place that beside the Gospel.

A woman caught in adultery is brought before Jesus. This time, the accusation is true. Unlike Susanna, she is guilty. And yet the situation is just as unjust. The scribes and Pharisees are not seeking righteousness. They are using her as a tool to trap Jesus, to test Him, and to manipulate the law for their own purposes.

Once again, a woman stands surrounded by accusers. Once again, she is alone.

But this time, something different happens.

Jesus does not immediately respond. He bends down and writes on the ground. Then He speaks: “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone.”

One by one, they leave.

And Jesus is left alone with the woman—not to condemn her, but to speak the truth: “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”

These two readings, taken together, reveal something essential about God. God is a God of justice—He defends the innocent, as He did for Susanna. But He is also a God of mercy—He restores the guilty, as He does for the woman in the Gospel.

And in both cases, what is exposed is not just the situation, but the human heart.

The elders in Daniel use their position to manipulate the truth. The accusers in the Gospel use the law to condemn without examining themselves.

And this is where Lent becomes very direct.

It is easy to place ourselves alongside Susanna—the innocent, the falsely accused. It is harder to recognize ourselves among the accusers.

Because the deeper question in both readings is not, “Who is guilty?” It is, “How do we respond to sin—our own and that of others?”

Do we use truth to condemn? Or do we allow truth to lead us to humility?

Jesus does not deny the reality of sin. He names it clearly: “Do not sin anymore.” But He refuses to let condemnation have the final word.

This is the shift Lent brings us to.

As we move closer to the Passion, we begin to see more clearly that the Cross is where justice and mercy meet. The truth about sin is not ignored—but it is taken up and transformed.

And we are invited to stand in that same place.

To be honest about sin—without denying it. To be merciful—without excusing it. To recognize that we stand in need of the same mercy we are called to give.

Because in the end, every one of us stands before Christ not as judge, but as one in need of grace.

And His word remains the same: “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and do not sin anymore.”