We Are Judas

Whether or not Judas Iscariot was a historical figure, that Jesus was betrayed by one of his own is important to consider on this, Maundy Thursday, as we not only remember the institution of the Lord’s Supper, but also the betrayal and trial of Jesus.

Judas Receives 30 pieces of Silver by Mattia Preti, c.1640

The historical question, it seems to me, is mooted by the deeper theological reality the story of the betrayal underscores: The disciples fell asleep, then fled; Peter denied Jesus three times; all of them, those who had been with him on his journey from the shores of the Sea of Galilee left him first to stand trial alone; to be scourged alone; to carry his cross alone; to die alone, abandoned even by the Father in whom he put his trust, his only companions common criminals who mocked his claims as he breathed his last.

We blame Judas because we so desperately need to have one at whom to point our finger.  We ignore the other betrayals, the violence of Peter as he cuts off the ear of one of the guards, the disciples hiding in a locked room, afraid for their lives.  All we do is point our finger at the one who acted, whether out of misplaced conscience, or greed, or whatever motive might have stirred him to act; what we can say about Judas is this: He acted where the rest slept, or fled, then hid.

The truth is, we are Judas.  We act out of the best intentions sometimes.  Other times, we act out of the worst intentions.  We blame Jesus for failing us.  We blame Jesus for failing to be who we want or need him to be.  We decide it is far better to betray Jesus, the one we insist has already betrayed us by not being or doing who or what we believe we need.  The hardest truth, the most brutal truth, of Maundy Thursday is simple: When we hear the words from Scripture that Jesus declares that “one” around the table breaking bread with him will betray him, we must see his eyes turn to us.  If we do not begin our journey to the cross with this reality in front of us, we are missing the most basic message of Maundy Thursday – the shadows of Tenebrae fall upon all of us, darkening our hearts, and our lives.