Given at Christ Church, Bulkington
Matthew 26: 20-25, 36, 47-50
Betrayal provokes emotions in us that are perhaps more disturbing than those that result from any other human experience. In that light, it is perhaps understandable how Judas has, in countries with a Christian cultural background, become a synonym for a particular type of wickedness. To call someone a Judas is one of the worst things one can say about them.
It is one thing to be attacked or undermined by an enemy, a rival, or even a random stranger — but when a trusted friend turns against us, the direct impact of whatever wrong they have done to us is often eclipsed by the feelings left by an abuse of trust, friendship, and love.
Being betrayed can, understandably, leave people very bitter. For all that such bitterness might be understandable, it is also dangerous. Bitterness is an emotional and spiritual acid; it risks corroding our humanity if we allow it to fester.
At first sight, Judas commits the betrayal of his friend for the pettiest of motives, for short-term financial reward. Yet, just before the scenes we’ve heard tonight, the incident where the woman poured the jar of expensive perfume over Jesus’ feet took place. One of Gospels identifies Judas as complaining that the perfume should have been sold and the proceeds given to the poor. So, perhaps more than simple financial avarice, we might see Judas increasingly frustrated with Christ, resentful and jealous. Judas may look at Jesus as holding the crowds spellbound with His charisma, yet at the same time seeming to undermine His own teachings to care for the poor so he can enjoy money being wasted on His luxury. Judas sees himself as the keeper of the flame of godly teaching, and must think that Jesus is letting the side down.
If we take seriously the belief that Jesus is truly God in human form, then there is an echo of something here that goes right back to the Fall – the idea that we can do better than God at running the world, that we have the right to challenge the limits God has set for human behaviour, which is something at the root of so many of our present troubles with issues like climate change.
Yet we often find themselves also with some human sympathy for Judas. We are not necessarily wrong to do hold such sympathy. At the end of the day, nearly of Jesus’ followers forsook him and fled when the going got really hard.
The Gospels also disagree about who challenged Jesus after the woman poured perfume on His feet – Matthew’s Gospel, which our readings this year come from, simply say “the disciples” challenged Him. But for the grace of God going before us, we are all capable of being like Judas. I suspect, looking back over our lifetimes, that most of us can recall one or two incidents of being betrayers as well as one or two terrible moments of being betrayed.
Our reading this evening concludes with Jesus, after identifies him for arrest by kissing him, saying simply, “Friend, do what you are here to do.” There is no hint of any hatred and bitterness from Jesus towards Judas about the terrible things that are about to befall him. We are called to live like this, like Jesus, without bitterness even at the worst betrayals. But that is so terribly, terribly, hard. To lay the feelings of bitterness and betrayal that we all experience at times at the foot of the Cross, to hand them over to the crucified Christ so He can forgive what we struggle to let go of, is perhaps the only place to start.
Amen.
