The Not-So-Good-News About Judas

In prayer, Jesus confirms to His Father ‘Not one of them was lost except the one destined to be lost’

Unfortunately, it’s a bad translation.

Jesus doesn’t call him ‘the one destined to be lost,’ but rather the Greek literally reads ‘the son of perdition’ – or in more modern English – ‘the son of Hell,’ or the ‘son of eternal damnation.’

Who’s he talking about? Who was the ‘son of Hell?’

Judas.

He’s the one the Gospels tell us sold out Jesus to the religious authorities for payment of silver coins. The Gospels identify Judas over and over again as the ‘betrayer.’ There are some hints in the Gospel of Matthew that Judas’ motivation for his betrayal might have been the payment he would receive – he was doing it for the money. But, beyond that, we really don’t know why he did what he did.

Scholars and preachers over the centuries have spread the gamut on Judas: on one side condemning him as one of the most evil men in human history, and on the other side explaining away his actions as being necessary for salvation history to have played out – in other words if Judas didn’t do what he did, Jesus wouldn’t have died for our sins, and we’d all be in big trouble.

From the time since I was in High School, I have been overtaken with the 70’s Broadway musical, Jesus Christ Superstar. In that show Judas is portrayed as a conflicted man, who betrayed Jesus all the while thinking that he was doing the righteous thing. After the arrest of Jesus, Judas is beside himself with regret, realizing the horrible mistake he’s made: he even tried to give back the money he was ‘paid’ – money which he didn’t want from the beginning.

I remember going to my youth pastor at church with my newfound revelation about Judas: he wasn’t such a bad guy after all – and I remember that my youth pastor wasn’t too impressed. According to my pastor, Judas wasn’t misunderstood; he was a man who committed an awful, ultimate sin.

He may have been right.

After all, Jesus said to Judas in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark, long before he actually betrayed him, that it would have been better for Judas if he hadn’t been born.

This is a man who knew Jesus intimately. He would have enjoyed the same close friendship and mentoring relationship that the rest of the disciples had with Jesus. He would have witnessed incredible miracles, huge crowds, and glimpses of the Kingdom of God breaking out on earth. And yet, it was he – an insider – someone who Jesus loved – who turned his back on Jesus, and handed him over to be beaten, tortured, and horrifically executed.

Could this have been the actions of a man who thought he was doing the right thing?

On the other hand, Judas is described clearly in Luke as being possessed by the devil. Satan entered into him, and drove him to his actions against Jesus. – Could Judas really be responsible for the actions of Satan dwelling within him? If he was just a vessel for the powers of Hell, wasn’t he a victim too? Maybe just as much of a victim as Jesus – after all he died a horrible death too.

Of course, we’ve all heard of the ‘Gospel of Judas’ over the past several months. This ‘Gospel’ is a third century manuscript written by a ‘Christian’ sect about Judas. It’s written as if it was written by Judas himself, but there isn’t a scholar on earth who’d say that Judas wrote it. While the copy that was recently discovered was written almost 300 years after the life of Jesus, it is just a copy of an earlier manuscript written no later than 180AD. We don’t have that original copy (we actually don’t have any original copies of any of the books of the Bible though either), but we know that a ‘Gospel of Judas’ was circulating around the year 180, because a bishop in the Church (Irenaeus) condemned it by name.

The real scholarly debate over the ‘Gospel of Judas’ isn’t over whether it’s an ancient Christian writing (because it clearly is). The debate isn’t over whether Judas actually wrote it (because he clearly didn’t – after all how could he if he was dead?). And the debate isn’t over whether or not this book should be included in the Bible (because it clearly shouldn’t be – there were tons of things written in those days about Jesus, and not everything belongs as scripture, says the Church – even bishop Irenaeus).

The debate is over whether or not we can learn anything about the actual Judas in this book, and therefore whether we can learn anything about his relationship with Jesus and the events which transpired around his betrayal and crucifixion.

The ‘Gospel of Judas’ is so explosive because it contains a passage which indicates that Jesus asked Judas to betray him, and told him that he would be hated forever because of his necessary and requested betrayal.

So, does this gospel say anything real about what actually happened between Judas and Jesus? I suppose that’s the question scholars, fanatics, and conspiracy theorists will argue over for a while to come.

I’m pretty certain – in fact I’m thoroughly certain – that it doesn’t say anything about the real Judas, Jesus, and the betrayal.

But, what I do think it says is that ancient Christians were just as confused as to whether Judas was a good guy who was just misunderstood, or whether he was evil incarnate. This ‘Gospel of Judas’ was one author’s attempt at trying to make Judas out to be a good guy – but it doesn’t make him right.

So – who was this ‘Son of Perdition?’ Was he a son of Hell by his own actions, or was he hijacked by the powers of Hell, and therefore not responsible for his actions.

In other words: Did the Devil make him do it? Did his own sinfulness make him do it? Or (as in the Gospel of Judas) did Jesus make him do it?

Honestly, I don’t know. It depends on the day. Sometimes I think he was a bad, bad man who stabbed his best friend in the back in his moment of need, and other times I rock along to Jesus Christ Superstar and think that maybe it was all a mistake – or a setup.

But, here’s the thing: I don’t think the answer to these questions really effects us either way. The fact is that Jesus was betrayed, he was crucified for our sins, and he did rise again on the third day.

But, here’s the other thing: I think all the hoopla about Judas misses the point. Because the sins of Judas just about him – they’re about us too. He way have been the ‘Son of Perdition,’ but there are times that we’re not so hot ourselves.

He is condemned because he betrayed Christ, but doesn’t our sin betray Christ too? When we turn away from the life, decisions, and manner of living that Christ would have us live – even after all he’s done for us – don’t we turn away from Christ too?

We may no sell Christ up the river over 30 pieces of silver – but we may do it for pleasure, revenge, indulgence, or for personal gain.

The Cursillo community uses as its symbol the rooster. Usually, the rooster is flamboyantly colorful. The rooster symbolizes the cock which crowed when Peter denied Christ. The bold colors remind us of the boldness of the sin of denying Christ. And we take it as our symbol realizing full well that we’re pretty bold sinners too, that we repeatedly deny Christ in our manner of living – and isn’t the denial of Christ just a hair’s breadth away from betrayal.

When Jesus speaks of Judas, he speaks of us too. We’re sinners. Sometimes bold sinners. Sometimes we sin, thinking we’re doing the right thing. Sometimes we sin after being setup. Sometimes we just make bad decisions.

That’s what Judas can teach us, and remind us: he’s a mirror to the side of our own darkness, and the reason for our need of God’s goodness, grace, forgiveness, and mercy.

Him, You, and just us

(The Rev. John Jorgensen is preaching at St. John's this week, but this is Fr. Rick's sermon from St. Peter's, Lonaconing)

What is prayer? Really, what is it?

I suppose that most people would say that it is us talking to God – it’s the words that we say to God – our communication with God.

If that’s what you’d say, then I’d say that you’re half-right! There is another side to it – and it’s certainly the most important side: It’s God’s words to us too. To think that prayer is just our words to God means that we’re leading a one-way conversation with the Almighty, which is not a good idea.

But, certainly ‘our’ prayers – the part that we’re responsible to make time for and to take the initiative on, are the words, thoughts, and images that we offer to God.

To God: that’s the important part. When you talk to someone, think of the language that you use. If I’m talking to Elaine, I don’t say things like, “Elaine is my friend. She is a member of St. Peter’s. I enjoy her when she’s around.” If I did, she’d think I was crazy! If I’m talking to Elaine I’d say something more like: “Elaine, you are my friend, and I’m so glad that you’re a member of St. Peter’s, and that you’re around often.” I’d use ‘you’ language, not ‘she’ language. I’d use ‘she’ language only if I was talking about her to someone else – right?

Classically, we think of hymns as prayers set to song. But, are they? Or, are they all?

There are actually two kinds of hymns: there are hymns and songs which are indeed prayers to God, and there are hymns and songs which are about God, the faith, and the Church.

Think of the difference between “O Come, O Come Emmanuel,” and “Joy to the World.” One is directly addressed to God, and the other is about the ‘glory of HIS righteousness, and wonders of his love.’

Most of the really ancient songs and hymns of the church (and I’m not talking about the 1800’s!), were really musical settings of prayers to God. When church services became more ‘evangelical’ in nature – when their chief aim became to convince people of something or to convert them to the faith – the hymns the church began writing changed. A lot of what we know as the ‘great’ ‘old’ hymns of the faith usually fit in this category: “Amazing Grace,” “There is pow’r in the Blood,” “The Old Rugged Cross,” “I love to tell the Story.” There are exceptions of course, like “Great is Thy Faithfulness,” “How Great Thou Art.”

I’m not trying to say that there isn’t a place for the other hymns – the ones about God – but I think it’s important to be aware of it. It’s good to talk about God – it’s good to talk about God to each other, and to people who don’t know God yet. But, it’s far more important to talk to God, to listen to God, and to direct our lives to God and not just about God.

[I get nervous, and leave unfulfilled when I go to other churches where there are really long sermons which dominate over half the service, and 3-5 hymns about God. What you get is something that dangerously get close to being a class about God instead of actually worshipping the Creator and Savior and fostering and deepening that relationship.]

Which brings us to the 23rd Psalm, that familiar and comfortable piece of scripture that has carried countless people through difficult times, death, and moments of fear: The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters, he restores my soul.

What do you notice about those few opening lines? – Yeah, it’s a psalm about God, not a psalm directed to God!

Which seems a little awkward doesn’t it, when you think of the psalms being the book of Israel’s prayers – the ancient hymnbook used in the Temple and in the synagogue for thousands and thousands of years.

And here’s the really mind-blowing thing about this psalm; listen to the next few verses: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff comfort me. Thou shalt prepare a table before me in the presence of them that trouble me; thou hast anointed my head with oil, and my cup shall be full. Surely thy loving-kindness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

What happens? The psalmist switches – mid psalm – from talking about God, to talking to God!

Here’s what excites me about this psalm – here’s what I think this psalm challenges us about prayer:

1) Note what the psalmist asks for. . . what does he ask for? Nothing! Which really shouldn’t surprise us, since the second line is: “I shall not want.” If you don’t want for anything, if you don’t need anything, then why would you need to ask God for something?! What does he give thanks for? Nothing! What does he offer to do for God? Nothing! In the 23rd Psalm, the psalmist is telling God, reminding God, what God already does for him – and it’s prayer.

2) Note what this psalmist has known in life: he’s gone through the valley of the shadow of death, he’s been put in situations where he’s in close proximity to those who don’t like him and who may want to do him harm, and he’s experienced evil. He’s upfront with the fact that he doesn’t need to fear any of those things, but he’s also clear that his life hasn’t been peachy-keen. He realizes that the promise of God isn’t that God is going to keep us away from trouble, but the promise is that WHEN we go through trouble that God will be right there with us.

3) The psalmist switches back and forth between talking about God, and talking to God. (In fact you could reasonably argue that the psalmist goes full-circle in the last verse: I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever – instead of I will dwell in YOUR hose forever.) I think what we can be reminded of here, is that in the community of the faithful, we can, and should do both. And when we talk about God, we don’t have talk about Him in a detached and scientific way, but we can bring Him in on the conversation to help us talk about Him more faithfully. If we only talked ABOUT God, we’d miss out on our relationship WITH God. To talk only with God, we’d miss out the relationships with others, with our neighbors, with those who are not yet part of the fellowship of God, and the rest of the Creation which God has given us to enjoy Him in too.

Though, through it all, the 23rd Psalm stands as a icon of prayer, an icon of the abiding Presence of God, and our joyful need to reach out to that Presence, and reach out with that Presence.