Betrayal
Wednesday of Holy Week
Daily Reading: Matthew 26:14 – 25
Focus Passage:
When evening came, Jesus was reclining at the table with the Twelve. And while they were eating, he said, "Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me."
They were very sad and began to say to him one after the other, "Surely not I, Lord?"
Jesus replied, "The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me." (Matt. 26:20 – 23)
The daily readings walking us through Holy Week give us a glimpse of the events which shape these difficult days in Jesus’ life. We cannot dismiss the intensity of their “passion” by simply saying, “Jesus was the Son of God, so none of this trial actually touched him.” Jesus was also the Son of Humanity (Son of Man in most translations), fully alive and a complete human. Yes, Jesus was touched by the defections and betrayals and accusations of the week.
The Gospel writers knew what those sitting around the table did not know. In hindsight, the writers knew Judas betrayed Jesus, that he sold him to the authorities for thirty pieces of silver.
Because of this after-the-fact knowing, they were able to editorialize about Judas and his role of traitor. They looked back with a different set of eyes. They attributed motives to him. They began to see all the actions of Judas in light of his act of betrayal.
All those centuries ago, they succumbed to the temptation to demonize Judas. We tend to do the same thing in our day.
Many years ago, I heard that the Great Passion Play at Oberammergau had trouble casting the role of Judas in their once-a-decade production. Many persons in that German town wanted to play Jesus or one of the 11 other disciples, but no one wanted to audition for the role of Judas.
Who wants to be Judas? After all, who consciously wants to betray Christ?
Yet the text mysteriously says that the betrayer would be “the one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me.” Wouldn’t that have included all the disciples present? Didn’t they all partake of the meal? This explains why the story suggests the disciples were so confused about the identity of the betrayer. The way we read it, Judas is the obvious choice. But to those who actually sat around the table with Jesus, it could have been any of them. They all dipped their hands in the cup. So they said to Jesus, one after another, “Surely not I, Lord?”
Further, if we looked into the inner landscape of each person sharing that meal, we’d probably find that they each had some small recognition of their own capacity to turn on Jesus in order to save their own skin. That’s why they were so uncertain of themselves.
In reality, we all betray. Judas may have been the story’s culprit, but we are responsible, too. The impulse to look after ourselves is just as strong in us as it was in those early followers of Jesus.
You and I have the capacity to betray. If we recognized ourselves as possible traitors, receiving Holy Communion might look different. We take the bread and dip it into the cup just as Judas did. At Communion, a company of betrayers gathers for a meal hosted by the One we will betray. We are invited by Jesus, who looks through our twisted motives and our shame . . . all the way to our hearts.
My friend, Peter Johns, wrote a song in which he imagines that Judas came back to Jesus instead of running away to hang himself. The song is called, “Judas Come Home.” In the song, I am touched as Jesus acknowledges that everyone fails him and betrays him in some way. He sings this line to Judas, poignantly saying, “I freely love failures and traitors.”
For Reflection:
In some sense, we are each “failures and traitors”; however, that fact is no cause for shame. Don’t fall into the hole of shame and self-bullying. It is simply an honest appraisal of who I am – and who you are – as a human being. The capacity for betrayal lives inside me.
But also within me lives light and love . . . mercy and compassion . . . generosity and welcome.
For most of us the challenge is to not fall over onto one side or the other . . . but rather, to hold the whole of who we are in tension, to feel ourselves unresolved, to acknowledge both our light and our darkness . . . knowing that God loves us just as we are.
Daily Reading: Matthew 26:14 – 25
Focus Passage:
When evening came, Jesus was reclining at the table with the Twelve. And while they were eating, he said, "Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me."
They were very sad and began to say to him one after the other, "Surely not I, Lord?"
Jesus replied, "The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me." (Matt. 26:20 – 23)
The daily readings walking us through Holy Week give us a glimpse of the events which shape these difficult days in Jesus’ life. We cannot dismiss the intensity of their “passion” by simply saying, “Jesus was the Son of God, so none of this trial actually touched him.” Jesus was also the Son of Humanity (Son of Man in most translations), fully alive and a complete human. Yes, Jesus was touched by the defections and betrayals and accusations of the week.
The Gospel writers knew what those sitting around the table did not know. In hindsight, the writers knew Judas betrayed Jesus, that he sold him to the authorities for thirty pieces of silver.
Because of this after-the-fact knowing, they were able to editorialize about Judas and his role of traitor. They looked back with a different set of eyes. They attributed motives to him. They began to see all the actions of Judas in light of his act of betrayal.
All those centuries ago, they succumbed to the temptation to demonize Judas. We tend to do the same thing in our day.
Many years ago, I heard that the Great Passion Play at Oberammergau had trouble casting the role of Judas in their once-a-decade production. Many persons in that German town wanted to play Jesus or one of the 11 other disciples, but no one wanted to audition for the role of Judas.
Who wants to be Judas? After all, who consciously wants to betray Christ?
Yet the text mysteriously says that the betrayer would be “the one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me.” Wouldn’t that have included all the disciples present? Didn’t they all partake of the meal? This explains why the story suggests the disciples were so confused about the identity of the betrayer. The way we read it, Judas is the obvious choice. But to those who actually sat around the table with Jesus, it could have been any of them. They all dipped their hands in the cup. So they said to Jesus, one after another, “Surely not I, Lord?”
Further, if we looked into the inner landscape of each person sharing that meal, we’d probably find that they each had some small recognition of their own capacity to turn on Jesus in order to save their own skin. That’s why they were so uncertain of themselves.
In reality, we all betray. Judas may have been the story’s culprit, but we are responsible, too. The impulse to look after ourselves is just as strong in us as it was in those early followers of Jesus.
You and I have the capacity to betray. If we recognized ourselves as possible traitors, receiving Holy Communion might look different. We take the bread and dip it into the cup just as Judas did. At Communion, a company of betrayers gathers for a meal hosted by the One we will betray. We are invited by Jesus, who looks through our twisted motives and our shame . . . all the way to our hearts.
My friend, Peter Johns, wrote a song in which he imagines that Judas came back to Jesus instead of running away to hang himself. The song is called, “Judas Come Home.” In the song, I am touched as Jesus acknowledges that everyone fails him and betrays him in some way. He sings this line to Judas, poignantly saying, “I freely love failures and traitors.”
For Reflection:
In some sense, we are each “failures and traitors”; however, that fact is no cause for shame. Don’t fall into the hole of shame and self-bullying. It is simply an honest appraisal of who I am – and who you are – as a human being. The capacity for betrayal lives inside me.
But also within me lives light and love . . . mercy and compassion . . . generosity and welcome.
For most of us the challenge is to not fall over onto one side or the other . . . but rather, to hold the whole of who we are in tension, to feel ourselves unresolved, to acknowledge both our light and our darkness . . . knowing that God loves us just as we are.
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