What would be my price? |
“After he had said this, Jesus was
troubled in spirit and testified, 'I tell you the truth, one of you
is going to betray me.'”
“His disciples stared at one another, at a loss to know which of
them he meant. One of them, the disciple whom Jesus loved, was
reclining next to him. Simon Peter motioned to this disciple and
said, 'Ask him which one he means.'”
“Jesus answered, 'It is the one to whom I will give this piece
of bread when I have dipped it in the dish.' Then, dipping the piece
of bread, he gave it to Judas Iscariot, son of Simon. As soon as
Judas took the bread, Satan entered into him.”
“'What you are about to do, do quickly,' Jesus told him, but no
one at the meal understood why Jesus said this to him. Since Judas
had charge of the money, some thought Jesus was telling him to buy
what was needed for the Feast, or to give something to the poor. As
soon as Judas had taken the bread, he went out. And it was night.”
John 13:21-30, NIV
Last
night during our annual Maundy Thursday service I was struck once
again by the question I usually have about Judas Iscariot when I
reflect on the events leading up to the Crucifixion. I get the fact
that the Scriptures had to be fulfilled so that Jesus' betrayer would
come from the very ranks of his small rabbinic school he had formed.
But still, the question plagues me: Why did he do it? What
would provoke him to sell out his friend – especially if your
friend is Jesus of Nazareth? I
can't believe it was solely for money. Thirty pieces of silver even
in Jesus' day isn't a lot to write home about. If not for money,
then, what for? Was it a high-risk gamble to get him backed into a
corner so that he would be forced to reveal himself as the political
Messiah Judas certainly had pegged him to be? When I think of all the
miraculous things that Judas must have witnessed in his three-year
stint with Jesus – things I have read about but never seen myself –
was he impatient with Jesus and all his coy speak about “the
kingdom”? “All right already,” (I
can imagine him saying) “The whole country is coming to
your side. All you need to do is give the word and the Romans will
have more on their hands then they know what to do with.” Given
that some think that he may have been a member of the zelỡtẽs
this may not be too far off the mark.
Whatever
motives lay at the heart of his actions that night, however, not one
of the Gospel writers have anything good to say about him. He is
usually introduced to the story with the moniker, “who betrayed
him.” In fact, to my ear John's account, written by he who was
referred to as “the Beloved Disciple” and who wrote so much about
God's love, seems especially bitter toward Judas. Following Judas'
feigned protest of what could have been done for the poor with the
aromatic oil Mary of Bethany had wasted by pouring out on Jesus'
feet, John comments
“He did not say this because he
cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the
money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it.” (John
12:6, NIV)
Written
near the end of the 1st
Century some sixty years later, his commentary still has a bite to
it.
When I
think of that night on which he had his last meal with his disciples,
Judas was present. Laying around
the common bowl, he shared in intimate fellowship with the Lord (even
though he had already gone to the priests privately to work out a
deal.) If he was plagued by second thoughts, we are left to
conjecture for the gospels are silent about it. He was there when
uncharacteristically, Jesus stripped down to his waist and went
around the circle and performed the work of a servant. What did he
feel when the water was being poured over his feet and Jesus, so
carefully dried them? Did he wrestle with remorse or guilt about what
he was about to do? In Matthew's account of that night following
Jesus announcement that one of them would betray him, Judas point
blank says, “Surely not I, Rabbi?” to wit Jesus responds
nonplussed, “Yes, it is you” (Matthew 26:25).
And
then the tragic moment of fate arrives which surprisingly no one
there comprehends. When John asks Jesus just who it is that is going
to betray him, Jesus tells him, “It is the one to whom I
will give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish”
(John 13:26). And then as if
John is recalling in slow motion that terrible moment, Jesus
immediately dips the piece of bread into the bowl and hands it to
Judas and grimly states, “What you are about to do, do quickly”
(v. 27). There it is. Jesus has just fingered the culprit but no one
present gets it. They are all clueless. John explains that Judas,
being the treasurer of their small company, everyone just assumed he
had an errand to run. Later on the Mount of Olives, they all seem
taken aback that it was, in fact, Judas, leading the delegation of
soldiers to their place of prayer.
I
think of that moment – the elements of unleavened bread and the cup
of redemption within him, his feet newly washed symbolizing his
partnership in Jesus' kingdom agenda and now the piece of bread
freshly dipped from their table held in his hand – and John's
comment is telling. At exactly that instant, “...Satan
entered him...[and] he went out. And it was night” (13:27,
30). I think more than time of day is inferred here. A light, by its
own volition, has just been extinguished and according to Jesus, “...woe
to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if
he had not been born” (Matthew
26:24).
He is a terribly, complicated
individual. It seems that none of the disciples waste any tears on
the tragedy that is Judas. Wasn't Peter's betrayal just as keen as
the man from Isacariot? Didn't all the disciples cut and run that
night? None of them – save maybe John – understood the plan of
God as it concerned the man Jesus until after the
Resurrection? Why then do they refer to him with so much disdain in
their voices years later? I think had he availed himself of Christ's
mercy, he could have been restored to fellowship as Peter and the
rest were. But not comprehending Jesus and God's purpose in the
Crucifixion, he drowns in an ocean of guilt and self-recrimination when he
realizes that the cabal of priests he had so unwittingly got in
cahoots with are determined to put Jesus to death. It is too much for
his soul to handle.
How
many times have we each betrayed the Son of Man denying, Peter-like,
that we are associated with him or failing to comprehend his words
even though he has been speaking them plainly all along? And yet in
turning back to the Lord we find mercy and forgiveness. How I wish
the Gospels had ended differently with Judas, like Peter in John 21,
being restored to the Company. But sadly one of the last real
pictures we are left with is him running into the darkness with the
bread of fellowship in his hand and his feet newly cleaned by his
Master.
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