Before you throw the first stone ..
Letter for the March 2026 Burnham Magazine
There were rumours among some journalists that Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor was going to be moving to Burnham Norton. I think they got their Marsh Farms muddled up. But I began to wonder what I would say if the press approached me.
The simple solution is also the correct solution. I would never talk about parishioners to the press without their permission.
But there is one other thing that I may have said - if I had had the courage - and it feels particularly appropriate as we begin this season of Lent.
Lent began with our Ash Wednesday service on 18 February. One of the readings for the day tells of the woman caught in adultery (John 8.1-11). She may well have been a victim; she may have been set up to trap Jesus. She alone was dragged before him - and not the man - and the crowd demanded of Jesus that, because she had committed what was then an unforgivable sexual offence, she should be stoned to death.
Jesus bent down, and wrote in the sand (we are not told what). When he had stood back up, he said, 'Let the one who is without sin throw the first stone'. He bent down again, and the crowd began to slip away, beginning with the eldest.
Lent is a time for self-examination. It is a season to examine our own hearts.
It is just a little too easy to look at the abuse, sexual transgressions or corruption of others as a way of making myself feel better about myself. After all, I have never abused someone, taken advantage of my position or privilege; and I have never entertained sexual thoughts which objectify others and make them objects for my self gratification; and I have never gossiped and passed on inside information either to show that I was 'in the know' or to gain advantage.
And I am, just in case of misunderstanding, being ironic.
It is right and important to call things out, to name things for what they are, and if laws have been broken then justice must take its course. But it is as we examine ourselves, and realise the depths of darkness that are in each of our hearts, then perhaps we might stop and pause before we throw the stone.
I notice that when Jesus issued his challenge, it was the oldest who left first. As we grow older we can become more aware of the muck in us, of the skeletons that we would prefer to remain buried. That does not mean that we excuse wrongdoing, but it also means that we can become kinder to those who transgress, even those whose failures are painfully public.
Lent leads to Good Friday when we remember that Jesus was crucified. Christians believe he was without sin and full of love. He never took advantage of another, and he sees us as we really are, deep on the inside, and he still loves us.
Instead of condemning, he chose to take onto himself all the things that separate us from God and prevent us from becoming the beautiful people we were created to be. He took onto himself our sin and became the ultimate public scapegoat.
So perhaps, before we are tempted to throw a stone, we should pause and take a long honest look at ourselves, and then look at the one who knows us, and loves us so deeply that he chose to die for us.
There were rumours among some journalists that Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor was going to be moving to Burnham Norton. I think they got their Marsh Farms muddled up. But I began to wonder what I would say if the press approached me.
The simple solution is also the correct solution. I would never talk about parishioners to the press without their permission.
But there is one other thing that I may have said - if I had had the courage - and it feels particularly appropriate as we begin this season of Lent.
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Christ and the Woman Taken in Adultery. Vasily Polenov. 1888 |
Lent began with our Ash Wednesday service on 18 February. One of the readings for the day tells of the woman caught in adultery (John 8.1-11). She may well have been a victim; she may have been set up to trap Jesus. She alone was dragged before him - and not the man - and the crowd demanded of Jesus that, because she had committed what was then an unforgivable sexual offence, she should be stoned to death.
Jesus bent down, and wrote in the sand (we are not told what). When he had stood back up, he said, 'Let the one who is without sin throw the first stone'. He bent down again, and the crowd began to slip away, beginning with the eldest.
Lent is a time for self-examination. It is a season to examine our own hearts.
It is just a little too easy to look at the abuse, sexual transgressions or corruption of others as a way of making myself feel better about myself. After all, I have never abused someone, taken advantage of my position or privilege; and I have never entertained sexual thoughts which objectify others and make them objects for my self gratification; and I have never gossiped and passed on inside information either to show that I was 'in the know' or to gain advantage.
And I am, just in case of misunderstanding, being ironic.
It is right and important to call things out, to name things for what they are, and if laws have been broken then justice must take its course. But it is as we examine ourselves, and realise the depths of darkness that are in each of our hearts, then perhaps we might stop and pause before we throw the stone.
I notice that when Jesus issued his challenge, it was the oldest who left first. As we grow older we can become more aware of the muck in us, of the skeletons that we would prefer to remain buried. That does not mean that we excuse wrongdoing, but it also means that we can become kinder to those who transgress, even those whose failures are painfully public.
Lent leads to Good Friday when we remember that Jesus was crucified. Christians believe he was without sin and full of love. He never took advantage of another, and he sees us as we really are, deep on the inside, and he still loves us.
Instead of condemning, he chose to take onto himself all the things that separate us from God and prevent us from becoming the beautiful people we were created to be. He took onto himself our sin and became the ultimate public scapegoat.
So perhaps, before we are tempted to throw a stone, we should pause and take a long honest look at ourselves, and then look at the one who knows us, and loves us so deeply that he chose to die for us.
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