Alas, Poor Judas

Matthew 26:17-25

What was he thinking?

That question is an immediate response to Judas. What was he thinking? What drove him to betray Christ? What led him to literally sell out Christ?

The trite answer--it’s complicated.

We will never know exactly what led Judas to betray the man he assumed to be the Messiah. 

That is true in most cases of betrayal. We have no idea why someone would fail another’s trust. Personal gain? Revenge? Power? Just plain evil? All of those reasons and more, truth be told. We sell one another out for a lot of reasons, almost always with an air of complete self-justification as we do so, too. We rationalize--they deserve it; here is my chance; sorry, but I need this to happen; and so on. There are always mitigating circumstances that explain our betrayal.

And it is no good saying we would never--NEVER, EVER--betray someone. That is utter folly. We all do and we all will. We will all play the role of Judas at some point or another. Breaking a trust just seems to be the better option. 

For Judas, it was the right thing to do. 

Maybe he wanted to move things along. Jesus was incredibly reticent about seizing the day. He would not challenge the Roman overlords holding Israel in check. He would argue with Church officials, but he would not move to unseat them, so they kept on in their corrupt and less than spiritual ways. If Judas sells him out, then he will have to act. The confrontation will come wherein Jesus will have to lay claim to his authority, power, and revolution. So, here goes nothing....

Maybe his idealism was offended. Most of the Gospels agree that Judas does not commit to his betrayal until he witnessed Jesus anointed by a street woman with costly ointments. This was a betrayal in and of itself. So much for holiness--a woman--THIS woman--come on, Jesus--you are a holy man! And the cost--man alive!--we could fund the soup kitchen for a month with the proceeds! We could build a house with that kind of money. What are you thinking, Jesus? So, he dug his own grave--I’ve had it! Best to be done with him.

Maybe he never really believed all along. Maybe he went as a good and faithful adherent of the Temple religion. Jesus spoke blasphemy. Jesus claimed holiness and a connection to God no human being can claim. Jesus denounced the faithful practice of the Torah as the Temple outlined it--had outlined it--for centuries, following Moses to the letter. This no account rabbi needs to be silenced, and sooner rather than later before these nincompoops following cause real damage. 

Maybe he got scared. Rome and the Temple made a fearsome duo. Why not just cash in with the winners?

Maybe he just needed to get out--too much, too fast, too soon--so end the party. 

The list of rationales could unfold all evening for us. We need to stop and see the connection in them all, for that is where our real focus needs to be. What is the common denominator in this list? Judas’ perspective--THAT is what dominates every single one of these speculations--Judas only sees what Judas sees.

That should give us pause. 

Why?

Because what is the predominant way you and I view the world? Honestly, we spend most of our time making our decisions, choices, and directions based on what we see with our own eyes and following our own interpretations of what we see.

Faith, though, is the call to stop seeing that way. Faith names seeing only through our own eyes blindness. Such blindness leads to Judas. Ask Peter, he did the same thing. Look where that gets him--his betrayal is denial. 

Faith calls us to see through the eyes of God. Faith calls us to stop. Faith calls us to shut our eyes and open them again, so we can stop, consider, and imagine seeing through the eyes of God.

A man had a wondrous workshop in his garage where he turned wood into cabinets, toys, tables, and sometimes machines of whimsy. One day, his grandson was old enough to see it as a wonderland. The man let him in and turned him loose, assuming the child would treat it as he did. The child ran to a machine and pushed all the buttons at once. The motor burned itself out trying to do everything the buttons demanded. The man reared back, ready to explode, but for some reason, he stopped. he saw his grandson as he was--a small child, excited, overwhelmed, and ready to play--just that thought stopped the man from an explosion. He firmly took hold of his grandson, but not without love. “Wait a second, son. Let’s see how this stuff REALLY works, then we’ll mash the buttons.” A motor could be replaced, a grandson, not so much. 

That is what faith asks us to do--to SEE. 

Alas, poor Judas. He did not see. In his blindness, he made a mess of things. 

We have other options. Use them.