Some thoughts for Easter 2018
There are some single names which require no other supporting name in order that one may know to whom the name refers. Diana, Barak, Pele, Enya, Donovan, Fergie, Hillary, Liberace, Lulu, Madonna, Ronaldo, Voltaire – and then there is Judas.
Religious tradition depicts Judas as a Smiling Assassin. A search for the origins of the term has proved fruitless. Traditionally it refers to a person who speaks well of a victim to the victim’s face, all the while easing a cold steel blade between the victim’s ribs. The name, Judas, is associated with such a type.
Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss – an action more telling of the character of the assassin than a mere smile. The name, Judas, is associated with faithlessness, duplicity, treachery, deception and betrayal. Within western culture Judas has come to represent the epitome of malevolence. Little wonder no one names their infant son Judas.
Yet, not all Judas’s were bad. The name derives from the one faithful tribe of Israel – Judah. Jewish history records events in the year 164 BCE, when a man named Judas led a revolt against the Romans, capturing the temple, and cleansing it of pagan idols. This Judas became more than just a folk hero. He became a legend. This Judas provided a thoroughly good name for a piece of music composed by George Friedrich Handel to which people still sing the words, ‘thine be the glory’. The season of Hanukah is still celebrated today in memory of this Judas who cleansed the temple and delivered a season of independence for Israel. This Judas was Judas Maccabeus. A little more than a century later, when the Galilean, Jesus, was born, there were many boys and men named Judas. It was a thoroughly honourable and respectable name.
According to written tradition, two of the original twelve disciples are identified as Judas. It is the one named Iscariot who was the betrayer. The moment of betrayal came at night – with echoes of Psalm 41: 9 “Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me.” On the Mount of Olives a crowd arrived, with evil intent. Judas was leading them. They had come bearing swords and clubs to take the Galilean by force as if he were dangerous.
The signal to identify the suspect to the murderous gang was a culturally normal greeting for a friend – a kiss. There is intense irony and sorrow in Jesus asking; “Judas, is it with a kiss that you betray me?” This was absolute treachery perpetrated by a trusted friend.
They came under a cloak of darkness. Secretive, concealing their true motives, like delphic shadows, elusive and obscure, planning their moves, knowing that their spiteful vendetta would not withstand public scrutiny. The power of betrayal lies in this; we expect our enemies to pursue us, even to the grave, but our friends?
So they came at night, away from the crowds. Evil gathered its forces to have its day in court, to makes its vague, ambiguous accusations, dealing in half-truth, untruth and innuendo, and then to demand that a penalty be paid, and punishment delivered summarily. All this began with a friendship betrayed by a kiss.
It is reasonable to think that Judas was different from the others. But actually, Judas did not stand out as any worse – and that should not be taken as a recommendation for any of the others. They were a hapless lot – and it seems that is the type Jesus was most likely to attract.
Judas took his thirty pieces of silver and, as the story goes, soon could not live with his guilt and shame. He died, forever identified as the archetypical traitor.
One must assume that Judas had his reasons. Conspiring and colluding with the other side must have held some appeal beyond the fleeting pleasures his blood-money may have provided. Or perhaps Judas had simply lost faith in his friend. We shall never know. We do know that this despicable treachery, perpetrated by a trusted friend, would never have been forgiven were the target anyone like us.
Judas was nothing special. He was just one weak human being, much like the rest of us, who made mistakes but tried to do his best. He did not wake up one morning and decide to betray a friend – but I suspect he decided his friend was too much of a risk and so abandoned him.
As Easter approaches it is timely to recall that it was not Judas who hammered the nails or shouted the hatred. Because of his betrayal Judas missed hearing the friendly voice of compassion and grace which said, “It is finished!” The great tragedy in this is that Judas thought himself, in the end, the worst kind of traitor while his target, his victim, his friend, did not. The victim of the smiling assassin forgave all those who accused him, betrayed him, denied him, condemned him, and took his life away.
That one was a better person than this one.
© Roger James Gillies