SermonStudio

Judas has long been an enigma. What could cause a person, who had been so close to Jesus, willingly to betray him into the hands of his enemies? Trying to get inside the mind of Judas may help us to understand him and to understand some things about ourselves. Judas may have had a certain expectation of who Jesus was and how he should conduct himself. When Jesus did not fulfill those expectations, Judas may have felt that he could set up a situation in which Jesus would have to act in order to save himself and advance his kingdom. At the same time, Jesus would be advancing Judas' agenda. Have we not, from time to time, wanted to manipulate God in a way that would advance our own agenda? There is something of Judas in each of us.

I chose to have Judas tell his story from a point close to his own death, but before he had decided what he would do. This would allow him maximum time to contemplate what he had done and to draw a lesson for others from his own experience. Beyond telling us his story, Judas is able to caution us about our own ambition and our assumption that we can make God do what we want God to do. A one-sentence summary of what I was attempting to accomplish in the sermon would be: "Judas had expected great things from his association with Jesus, but when they did not materialize, he attempted to force Jesus' hand, only to become involved in Jesus' death."



The Betrayer

Mark 14:1-4; Matthew 27:1-10


I always felt that I was the outsider. I was the Southerner. All the others, including Jesus, were from Galilee in the north. I alone was different, and they never let me forget it! My name is Judas, son of Simon, but they always called me Iscariot, meaning "the man from the village of Kerioth" in the south. I alone was a Judean. I was, until recently, a follower of Jesus of Nazareth. Many of us thought that he would bring in the new order and rule Israel.

Now everything has changed, for I betrayed the very one I had been following and brought an end to the dream! I didn't really mean to betray him. Things went farther than I intended. I have discovered that it is easier than you may think to betray your master. But that gets ahead of my story. Please, I have to talk to someone. Listen to me for a while. What I have to say may help you to avoid the tragedy into which I fell.

I had come to expect great things from this Jesus. He was a young man on the way up. At first I watched him from the edge of the crowd. I was there when he stood up in the synagogue in his home town and announced that he was the fulfillment of the Jewish Scriptures. I saw the determination in his face and I heard the authority in his voice. The townspeople thought it was blasphemy, and they took him out to a cliff to throw him over, but he got away from them. I marked that well -- his ability to escape.

I was in the crowd when he gave that great sermon on the mount. You remember how he spoke of the blessed life: blessed are the poor, the meek, the hungry, the thirsty, the persecuted. That was enough to set afire the zeal of any young man: blessed are the down and outers. That was for me. He wanted to correct the inequities and abuses in life -- and so did I.

One day he called for volunteers to go out and preach the good news of God's love, and I enthusiastically responded. There were seventy of us in all; we went out two by two. Our success was phenomenal! People listened, and their lives were changed. We prayed for the demon-possessed and their minds were straightened out. We prayed for the sick and they improved. What power we had! We returned and told Jesus of our good success. He said, "I know. I saw Satan falling through your work." I was delirious with the power that had been given to us. I decided then and there to attach myself to him permanently. I followed him everywhere.

Then, one day, he began to call some of his followers aside by name. He wanted an inner circle to travel with him full-time. Obviously, he was developing a cadre of informed insiders. He called eleven of the seventy. They were men I knew: Peter, James, John, Andrew. One by one I watched them go to him. Then, lastly, he called me, Judas of Kerioth. Not only did he wish me to be his disciple, he wanted me, with my business experience, to be treasurer of the group. If anyone made contributions to our work, I was to carry the money. If any purchases were to be made, I would make them. What a stepping stone that would be! When the revolution came and he was swept to power, I might be treasurer of all Israel. He was a revolutionary, you know. He talked constantly about the Kingdom of Heaven that was to come; and he was to be in the middle of it. He saw signs of the coming Kingdom in everything: in yeast expanding in dough; in a seed growing silently in the ground; in a harvest where the weeds are separated from the good stalks. I was sure that his declaration of his reign was just around the corner.

One day out by the Sea of Galilee, he fed 5,000 people from very little food. I could see his design in it: an army marches on its stomach, and he was experimenting to see if he could meet the demand. The people went wild. Some wanted to make him king right there, but he put them off. I guess he felt that the time wasn't right. I was disappointed, but I felt that he knew best.

Another time we were at Caesarea Philippi. He took Peter, James, and John with him to a hill, where his appearance was changed into something different before their very eyes. I didn't see it, but the others said that Elijah, the prophet, and Moses, the Lawgiver, were there, and that God himself spoke to them. I knew what it meant. It meant that he was going to present himself as a prophet and lawgiver, and he would have God himself on his side. Any moment, I thought, he would declare himself. Only he didn't. He simply decided to go to Jerusalem. That was not new; we had been there three times before in his short public life. Surely this time his star would rise.

But instead, things began to go badly. Some people began to circulate the rumor that Jesus was really John the Baptist. Of course that was ridiculous. John had been beheaded by Herod. But Herod had a guilty conscience. He wanted to see Jesus personally in order to satisfy his conscience, so he placed patrols on the main highway to Jerusalem in order to seize Jesus, if possible. We had to go out of our way to avoid them.

Moreover, Jesus had offended the religious authorities, and they, too, were out to get him. Not that I was afraid, you understand. After all, God was on his side. I was all for his taking over right there. Why go to all the trouble of going to Jerusalem? But no, he wouldn't do that. So we turned aside for a while into Samaria, a disgusting place. The people there received us very well, until they learned we were on our way to Jerusalem. You see, they have their own temple on Mount Gerizim, and they figured if that wasn't good enough for Jesus, he could leave. So we were forced out of Samaria. If I had been Jesus, I would have called down fire on them, even as James and John suggested.

We couldn't follow the main road because of Herod's soldiers, so we crossed the Jordan River and continued south on the other side. Here we were, in the company of a potential king, and we were forced out of our own land! I was losing patience with Jesus.

We crossed the Jordan again at Jericho and re-entered our holy land just as Joshua had done so many centuries before, when he came as a conquering hero. You know, Jesus's own name could be pronounced Joshua, or Jehoshua. It means "God saves." For me, this crossing was highly symbolic. I saw Jesus fulfilling the role of an earlier conqueror.

We eventually came to the home of some of his friends in Bethany. While we were there, one of his friends, Mary, came and poured a vase full of expensive perfume on Jesus as he reclined at the table. I protested the waste involved. If she really wanted to advance our work, she should have given me the perfume, and I would have sold it and used the money to meet our needs. What if things didn't go as we expected in Jerusalem? We would need all we could get to tide us over. But Jesus defended her. He said that this was preparation for his death. I didn't understand that talk, and I certainly didn't like it.

The next day we left for Jerusalem. Finally, things were beginning to look up. Jesus borrowed a donkey so that he could enter Jerusalem with some dignity. And, just as I expected, the crowds poured out of the city to greet him. Some of us put our robes down on the roadway in front of him. Other people cut down palm branches, symbols associated with the rulers of Israel, and waved them in the air as Jesus approached the city gates. All of us were uttering cries of joyous acclamation, "Hosanna," which means "O save!" At last Jesus was coming into his own -- and we with him, of course.

But I think he lost his nerve. There was the crowd -- a perfect time to declare himself. We all would have testified to his greatness. But he let the moment pass. All he did was go and drive a few dishonest merchants out of the Temple. He really let me down: Judas Iscariot, Treasurer of all Israel, was likely to wind up a nothing, all because Jesus lost his nerve.

It was then that I became involved in a plot. I knew the priests were after him. And I knew they couldn't take him in the daytime; he was too popular for that. So I went to them with a deal: I would tell them where to find him at night, away from the crowds. Don't ask me why I did it; I don't know why anymore. It wasn't the money; that was just to seal the bargain. I guess I was disappointed because he refused to be king. And as long as he refused, I was nothing. So I sought to force his hand, back him to the wall; then he would call on God, Moses, Elijah, and everyone else to come to his aid. I was convinced that he needed me to get the action started.

For several nights our pattern had been the same. We would leave the city for Bethany, two miles away, stopping over in the Garden of Gethsemane on the way. It was now Thursday. The next day was a special feast. I knew the time had come to act. The authorities would not want to act on the following evening, Friday, because the Sabbath would have begun. Thursday had to be the time.

That evening at dinner, Jesus knew something was up. He said, "One of you will betray me." Then he said to me, "What you are going to do, do quickly." He knew! I couldn't stand to stay in his presence. I needed some fresh air, so I left, pretending that I had a special errand to run. One day he would understand. He would thank me for forcing him to act.

I ran to the priests and told them that they would be able to find Jesus later that evening in Gethsemane. That was all I was supposed to do. I wanted to get back to our small company so that the other disciples wouldn't give much thought to my absence. But now information was not enough. The priests didn't want to be personally involved in going after Jesus. They were afraid there might be trouble. Instead, they had decided to send the temple guards. But the guards didn't know Jesus. They would need someone who could identify him for them. I was in too deep now to back out. I consented to identify Jesus with a kiss. When he used his power, as he surely would, he would recognize that my motive was to get him to act.

When we came to the Garden, Jesus and the other disciples were already there. I walked up and said, "Hail, Master," and I kissed him. He said, "Friend, why are you here?" Think of it. He knew what I was doing, and he called me "friend." But there wasn't time to explain. The soldiers advanced; Peter attempted to defend him, but Jesus forbade him, and the disciples ran off in fright. I alone stood by to see him use his power. But none was used. He went away peaceably, and I was left to ponder my fate.

I wandered most of the night, asking myself: "What does a betrayer do?" Toward morning I came across some servants from the Temple. They were fashioning a cross. It was for Jesus, they said, whom they were sure Pilate would condemn to death. It then came to me what I had done! By my actions I had placed Jesus in the hands of his enemies. Of course he would not destroy them; he had taught us to love our enemies, for this was God's way. It was clear now that he would sacrifice his own life rather than deprive them of theirs.

I ran to the Temple and threw down the money, but the priests would not take it back. I cried, "I have sinned by betraying innocent blood."

"That's your affair," they said, and left me to myself.

Jesus they took out and crucified. That is why I stand before you this morning. I am afraid to be alone, afraid of what I might do or think. I do not know what will become of me.

At least let me do this much. Let me warn you to take thought of your lives. Every one of us is capable of betraying our master, of killing the very thing we love. We do that when we refuse to accept Jesus as he is and try to make him into what we want him to be. We do that when we insist on doing by force what can only be accomplished by love. We do that when we allow our personal ambition to take precedence over our call to be of service.

None of us deliberately plots to hurt the one we follow, but when our instincts, our selfishness, our pride get out of hand, we can say and do cruel things that betray him. Take heed, then, to yourselves, so that in your moment of opportunity you may be more faithful than I.