Matthew 26: 6-25, 46-50, 27: 1-5

Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

Let me be upfront and tell you right off the bat – my name is Judas Iscariot – I was one of the original twelve disciples – and yes, I was the one who took the 30 pieces of silver to betray Jesus.

But before you are too quick to judge me … let me remind you of a few facts:

Although my name currently is associated with deceit and betrayal – it wasn’t always that way.  My parents named me Judas – and did so because of the great history connected with that name. 

Judah (a form of Judas) was the name of one of the twelve sons of Jacob – who each headed up one of the twelve tribes of Israel.

And then the brilliant uprising for Jewish independence in 164 B.C. was led by a man named JUDAS Maceabeaus … he was sort of like the George Washington of our day.  Even Jesus’ parents named one of his half-brothers Judas … as was one of the other twelve disciples.  

All that is to say is that my parents had high hopes for their baby boy … and I grew up in a very loving and caring home.

I was overwhelmed when I saw Jesus that first time.  He had a way about him … he was captivating.  He was just what we needed … not just a savior – but a Messiah … someone to overthrow the Romans and return us Jews to our glory.

And then one day – he approached me and invited me to follow him.  How could I say no?  My parents didn’t understand … but I was an adult … they worried because he was a Galilean and I was from Kerioth – in southern Judea. 

Matter of fact, I was the only Judean of all the apostles.  But I didn’t care … Jesus asked me to follow him … so I did.

What an amazing experience to walk with him those three and a half years.  To listen to his stories.  To see his miracles.  To watch him heal the sick and even raise the dead.  To be a part of his ministry.  Wow. 

It’s interesting … when you first read about the disciples, the biblical account is pretty honest about their faults:

Matthew was a former tax collector, Peter was impulsive, James and John were temperamental, to say the least.  But not one word about me … I was a pretty standup guy!

In fact – my fellow disciples thought me to be one of the most organized, honest and trustworthy of them all … for they made me their treasurer. 

Even Jesus trusted me … he sent me with the other apostles on the first mission trip and then welcomed me home warmly with all the others after our trip’s success.

My guess is that if I was a member of one of your churches – you, too, would have been glad to have me. I’d be the one sitting on the front row, singing all the hymns, serving on all the committees … I would have been a model parishioner.

Towards the end of Jesus’ ministry, though, things changed.  I began to get disillusioned.  He started talking about his death … about a kingdom not of this world. 

That’s not what I though I had signed up for. I wanted him to do what the scriptures said he would do (at least how I interpreted what they said he would do) – to lead an insurrection against Rome and drive the pagans from Israel so that our nation’s glory could be restored.  You certainly can’t do that if you’re dead!

As a matter of fact – that’s what most of us expected – for Jesus to lead us to freedom.  But when we figured out that WAS NOT what Jesus was going to do – at least not in the physical sense …

Most of the others just rolled with the punches.  They just decided that Jesus knew best.

Not me.  I was frustrated.  I was angry.  I think I hid it well. None of the other disciples noticed …I was mad that I didn’t say anything …

Of course, when that woman poured all that oil on Jesus … what a complete waste … I had to speak up …but so did the rest.  Obviously I wasn’t the only one who was just a bit miffed at her. 

And what does Jesus do? He tells us that we will always have the poor with us … and then brings up his death thing again … that she had done a good thing … that she was preparing his body for burial.  

I couldn’t stand it anymore. Jesus had betrayed my trust.  He had betrayed all of us.  I didn’t know what to do … I only knew I had to do something. 

He needed to be reminded of his mission (what I thought his mission was) and he wasn’t listening to us anymore.

I decided to go to the Jewish religious leaders and offered my help in capturing Jesus.  They were overjoyed at getting my help. 

Jesus was becoming way too popular – and they couldn’t just go out and arrest him in public.  I could help them do it under the cover of night.

For that they offered me 30 pieces of silver … not a fortune … but enough to maybe finance my own revolution.

The time came quickly … we gathered together for supper – to celebrate Passover … Jesus was almost morose.  He washed our feet --- all of ours … even mine. 

We broke bread and drank wine together.  He told us we were eating his body and drinking his blood.  I don’t think any of us understood what he meant … not then.  But ALL of us were served by Jesus.

Then he told us that one of us would betray him.  I should have realized he would have known.  He always knew.  All the disciples asked “Is it I?”  

I guess we all have a little bit of a traitor in us.  All of us must have been questioning our own commitment, our own loyalty, our own understanding of what was about to happen.

I asked too … although I knew I was the one … and Jesus told me to go do what I must do.  Even then the other disciples didn’t have a clue for they thought I was being sent to buy some additional food for our meal together or maybe taking some money to give to the poor.

I left … and went to the Jewish officials …I knew where Jesus would be going … the Garden Gethsemane.  I led them there …and as I walked ahead of them I got this pit in my stomach. 

I can’t exactly explain it … kind of like when you are going to the dentist and you know it’s going to hurt … or at least you imagine it is. 

My stomach was doing somersaults!  But I knew I had to press on … and I did.  And there I kissed Jesus … our prearranged sign.

He just looked at me and called me FRIEND.  Did you hear that?  He knew I was there to betray him and he called me FRIEND.

The officials and the Roman soldiers with them arrested Jesus.  When the disciples saw that he wasn’t going to struggle – that he was willingly going to let them take him … they ran … all of them.

He called me FRIEND.  I was still holding the bag with the 30 pieces of silver in it. 

They led him away … and as they did so – he looked at me one last time … and I could swear there was compassion on his face … for me??? I don’t know.

Hours passed … my stomach didn’t improve.  Memories of our years together kept gripping my mind.  Things Jesus had said, jokes he used to tell, stories he shared with us … The smile on the face of Jairus’ daughter when Jesus raised her from the dead…

…The look on Peter’s face when he walked on the water – and then when he sank like a rock. The 12 baskets of food left over after Jesus had fed the 5,000.  I could see it all and the memories tore my heart out.

Then the rumor spread that Jesus had been condemned to die.  I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was … I realized that he wasn’t going to be prodded into rising up against the Romans.  He had a different agenda … one I wasn’t going to change.

I was overwhelmed – overwhelmed with the thought that Jesus was going to die.  In that moment it came to me in a blinding flash: I had made a big mistake – the biggest mistake of my like. I had betrayed Jesus … and for what?

Of course, I was guilty! I had decided on a plan, I had made the deal, I had took the money, I had led the soldiers to Jesus and I had kissed Jesus on the cheek.

I had to figure out a way to make things right.  I ran back to the Jewish authorities and tried to give the money back.  But the chief priests just laughed at me.  They had what they wanted – they didn’t want my blood money.

I cried out to them … I wanted them to understand it had all been a mistake.  I yelled, “I have sinned for I have betrayed an innocent man!”

And it was true… that’s exactly what I had done.  I had betrayed my friend. 

And now he was going to die because of that betrayal.  The silver coins were like hot embers in my hands.  I threw them back into the temple. 

The coins clinked and rang out as if in disgust for what I had done.  I hated what I had done.  There was no way I could change things.  I could not make restitution.  I could not live with myself.

I realized that for me there was no hope. I could not live with myself.  So I went out and did the only thing I could think of that would end my desperation … I hung myself.

Pretty pathetic, right?  You would never do what I did, would you?  You would never betray your savior, right?  Even if you were profoundly disappointed in him, like I was? 

Okay, let me ask you this … hasn’t God ever disappointed you?  Maybe in letting your marriage fail, or letting a loved one die after you prayed tirelessly for their recovery.

Maybe God has dealt you a pretty crummy hand and you are tired of it all … Maybe … well, you fill in the blank.  We all have expectations for our lives and of those we love … and when God doesn’t come through – what then? 

For some – we betray Jesus by deserting him.  For some we betray Jesus by the way we live – we give in to the world’s temptations.  When we feel betrayed or disappointed it is a lot easier to sell out the Son of God. 

So … what would it take for you to betray Jesus? Would you betray him for money?  Just look at what we do to get money, to keep money, to make money – and you have your answer.

How about to get a better job? To have a more comfortable lifestyle?  To keep up with the Jones???  And the list goes on and on …

We all betray Jesus in one way or another… the difference is that when you all figure it out – most of you repent, ask for forgiveness and often change your ways.

My biggest failure was not that I betrayed Jesus, it was the fact that I didn’t fully repent and ask for Jesus’ forgiveness. 

Yes, I did feel bad for what I did.  I did return the money.  But I completely gave up on Jesus and gave up on myself. 

If I had only waited a couple more days instead of selfishly taking my own life … I know that Jesus would have been there for me – just like he was for Peter …just like he is for you …

Don’t ever let a sense of futility, a sense of failure, a sense of hopelessness keep you from turning to Jesus and letting him restore you.

There is an old story that after my death – I wandered the Universe looking for somewhere I could be laid to rest. 

Hell would not take me in, and earth would not receive me. I could not find a resting place in all of creation. 

At last, in a nameless region of dark and cold, my soul spotted a lighted hall.  The sounds of music and laughter spread across the wasteland.

As I approached the open door, I saw a long table set for supper, with the guests all seated.

The host rose and embraced me with a kiss and said, “We have waited a long time for you, so that the feat could begin. Come and be fed!”

That feast is available for each of us here today … the feast of forgiveness and love and acceptance.  We don’t have to wait till the next life to receive it. We can receive it here and now. 

It is my prayer that if anything in your life is betraying Jesus – that you set it right … that you turn and embrace the love that Jesus is offering you. 

It is not too late!  And know that you are loved with a love that encompasses even people like Judas… and you and me.

AMEN