Judas Greeted Him with a Kiss
He betrayed me. Betrayed me! Up to that point in my life, I
don’t believe I had ever experienced anything so brutal. Betrayal.
I had shared a secret. Needing a confidant—someone to help
carry the load, one who would come alongside me, uphold me in my struggle, offer
support when it all got too much. Needing someone to trust, I shared with him.
And, he betrayed me. Benedict Arnold. Marcus Brutus (“et tu, Brute?”). Vidkun Quisling. Ha! They had nothing on T.
Richard Dillinger (pseudonym to protect the innocent).
And, why? I asked. Why had T. Richard betrayed me as he did?
Was it principle? Fame? Money? Or, was it simply because telling her I had a
crush on her would embarrass me? Yes, in fifth grade, I was betrayed when T.
Richard told Marcie I liked her.
It was popular in the past decades to claim that there are
no moral absolutes. That everything is relative. That what is deemed “right”
and “wrong” are just products of our society. After all, the argument went, in
some cultures there is no stealing. In some societies, it is wrong to say a
particular word; while in others it is perfectly acceptable. Consider, they
say, how standards change—in one decade, certain clothing would be scandalous,
in others, totally normal. And so the conclusion: everything is relative.
But, what about betrayal? It is hard to imagine a society
where Benedict Arnold would be held up as a hero. Or, that being a traitor
would be honored. (For an interesting read on this, try Peace Child, by Don Richardson). Betrayal strikes deep, perhaps
deep enough that we might say it does indeed reflect a universal denunciation,
an absolute prohibition based on the Creator of the world.
So, it is easy to wag our fingers at Judas
Iscariot—certainly the most famous betrayer in history. Honored and blessed to
walk with Jesus for three years, given the greatest gift of witnessing the
Savior’s earthly ministry, Judas betrays Jesus, turns Him over to those seeking
to kill Him. For thirty pieces of silver, for a couple of months’ worth of
wages, Judas sells out his leader. Or, perhaps it was because Judas had lost
faith in Jesus. Or, because Judas wanted to force Jesus into messianic action.
Or,… Whatever the reason, Judas betrays Jesus and is now the most recognized
traitor in history.
While the Bible clearly acknowledges the horror of Judas’
action, it always seems odd to me that more emphasis is not put on his evil
deed. The Bible denounces Judas, but that doesn’t seem to be the focus.
Instead, Jesus’ death is more often spoken of as payment for MY sin. It is almost like… I betrayed Him! Could it be that the
revulsion I feel toward those who would betray their country, their leaders,
their friends, is the kind of revulsion that leads straight to the cross? And,
could that sense of betrayal be directed at me? Could it be that my sin really
is so bad as to be put in the same camp as Judas? Could it be that the betrayal
of Jesus occurred, not just by one of His disciples, but by all of them? Is the biblical picture of
the traitor Judas a portrait of us all? Not unique in being worse than all the
rest, but simply a pattern for us all? Can you say, “I betrayed Jesus, and
still betray Him”?
Christ died, betrayed by His friend. Christ died betrayed by
my sin, by your sin. But, He died to remove the guilt, the stain, the
condemnation of that betrayal! Because of His death, even traitors experience
His salvation, by trusting through faith in Jesus Christ, to whom be praise now
and forever.
In preparation for worship this week, read John 18:1-11.
1. This passage occurs immediately after Jesus’ high priestly
prayer in John 17. Do you think there is a link between Jesus’ prayer and the
events immediately following?
2. Notice how Judas is described in verses 2-3. What all is
implied and stated here?
3. Verse 6 is always an interesting thought for me. Why do you
think Jesus’ proclamation knocked them to the ground?
4. Why does Jesus direct the soldiers’ attention to Himself?
What is His motive and goal? How does this express the gospel message?
5. Why do you think Simon Peter acted as he did? Why does Jesus
respond to Peter like He does? Can you speculate on how Peter felt after this
episode?
