Blog Layout
JUDAS
Brian Harris • Apr 09, 2020
I feel sorry for Judas.
I’ve always supported the underdog, so perhaps it’s not too much of a surprise that I feel a fair amount of sympathy for Judas – no, not the other Judas, the disciple who was OK, but Judas Iscariot – the one who betrayed Jesus.
He was the treasurer for the group of disciples, and it appears that no close eye was kept on his accounting – for apparently he was a thief, which is rather a consolation if you’ve ever made a poor job appointment (what were you thinking Jesus?) When bills had to be paid, Judas could count on Jesus to pull off a miracle. Remember the time they couldn’t pay the temple tax and Jesus had them find the money in the mouth of a fish (Matt 17:24ff). That’s the kind of miracle treasurer’s love. You could argue that it was Judas’ dream job – lots of prestige, no real responsibility.
Politically it seems that Judas was a Zealot – in other words, he was one of those Jews who believed that the only way to overthrow their Roman oppressors was through acts of terrorism and violence. Certainly one reason given for why Judas betrays Jesus is that Judas hoped to force Jesus’ hand by having him arrested – thinking that the only option for the arrested Jesus would be to start the revolution that would cause the overthrow of Rome, or face crucifixion.
Perhaps Judas never considered that Jesus might willingly take the second route. If so, what a shock it would have been to see the promised Messiah disinterested in bringing about Rome’s defeat, and embracing the Cross instead. Thirty pieces of silver could never compensate for that – and a haunted Judas goes out and kills himself.
Can you feel a twinge of pity for him?
2000 years have passed, and this ancient betrayal has not been forgotten. Whatever Judas’ motives were, that night when he identified Jesus with the hypocrites kiss saw his endless night begin.
Motives are funny things – some that seem good, turn out to be deluded. Sometimes we dress our shadow self in the finest of clothes, and pretend that all is well.
Why do I feel a little sorry for Judas?
Because I see a Judas within, trying to force God’s hand instead of trusting that God’s plan is bigger than mine…
As we prepare ourselves for the next few days, we get ready to worship a God who passed through death in order to bring about life. This isn't the kind of God the disciples expected and it is often not the God that we want; but it is certainly the God that we have. The God of life, and the God of death. We cannot force his hand, but we can trust his love.
Sometimes, we categorise people out of Gods kingdom because they don’t meet the brief, they don’t fit our preconceived ideas and expectations. So, this Christmas, when I put my nativity in pride of place to celebrate “the King has Come”, I am reminded that a King didn’t come, at least not in the eyes of all those waiting on one. The nativity was the ultimate Kris Kringle (maybe the first!), where we quite simply don’t know what to expect and should always be prepared for a surprise, but it will be a gift.
For something new to grow,
something else must fade.
Death isn’t just the end of life it’s also the beginning.
St John of the Cross wrote: “If a man wishes to be sure of the road he treads on, he must close his eyes and walk in the dark.” When we can’t see, and can’t make any sense of things, keeping on can be the deepest form of trust. It can serve a profound purpose, for the dark night of the soul is sometimes the space between who we have been and who we will become.
PROMOTING
FAITH WITHOUT FEAR BY PROVIDING SPACES THAT CULTIVATE
SPACIOUS HEARTS AND
CURIOUS MINDS.
CONTACT
hello@centreforfaithandlife.com