APRIL 15 — Over the next few days, Christians in Malaysia celebrate what’s called Holy Week in the Christian calendar.
This period commemorates Jesus’ final week spent in Jerusalem before his betrayal, arrest and crucifixion.
Central to the story, of course, is the figure of Judas, a member of Jesus’ entourage who, sadly, betrayed him to the temple authorities.
The traditional view of Judas as a greedy treasurer who used his insider knowledge to get Jesus arrested, however, remains problematic after two millennia for at least two reasons:
First, this perspective doesn’t quite explain why Judas chose to use a kiss to identify Jesus to the chief priests; why not just, uh, point?
Second, why did Judas throw his blood-money (of 30 pieces of silver) away almost as soon he received it and why did he proceed to hang himself (Matthew 27:3)?
The New Testament says that Judas was filled with remorse upon seeing Jesus being condemned but, c’mon, what did he expect?!
Even assuming (unrealistically) that he was tormented by a sudden explosion of guilt, this only pushes the question one step further back: Why did Judas suddenly feel so much guilt over a betrayal which was planned and executed to near perfection? Does it make sense for a traitor (and a greedy one at that) to feel overwhelming guilt within a very short time of his betrayal, driving him to suicide? If the goal was betrayal for money, then wasn’t that what Judas eventually received?
To reiterate, cases of sudden extreme guilt (manifested by Judas) arise only if something unexpected and shocking occurred — but if Judas simply meant to betray Jesus to the Jews (with all the expected consequences which befalls a convicted blasphemer and heretic), then isn’t that exactly what happened?
Why the sudden torment over a plan executed to perfection?
Unless that wasn’t Judas’ plan.
Here’s an “unpopular opinion” if there ever was one: I suggest that our famous traitor meant to re-join the disciples as part of his plan to start the revolution he thought Jesus should lead.
Judas wanted to give that irreversible nudge to the revolution he believed Jesus needed to save Israel.
He, above all the disciplines, wanted a violent revolution against Rome and longed to see God’s people on top of the world again.
The only way this could happen is if the Jewish people rose up, took up arms, and shoved their conquerors and collaborators (the Sadduceans, King Herod, etc.) into the sea.
For Judas, far from intending to betray Jesus’ mission, wanted to flame it into being by getting the hated temple authorities to arrest Jesus, a much-loved prophet if there ever was one.
The plan was: Lead the guards to Jesus, force a confrontation, spark an uprising.
It made perfect sense and, judging from Peter’s violence in cutting off one of the guards’ ears (Matthew 26:51), the plan would have worked if Jesus hadn’t intervened (see below).
Judas never wanted God’s messiah to suffer and die; quite the opposite, he wanted Jesus to reign victorious.
Judas was, in fact, the most committed and pro-active of all the disciples towards the victory of God, the quintessence of loyal and fidelity.
Ironically, he could’ve been the one who most fully understood that Jesus’ mission was one of peace and sacrifice and thus decided to “correct” his master’s thinking.
From this point of view, Judas was most likely downright honest in his denial that he was the one to betray Jesus (See Matt 26:25) Again, his objective wasn’t betrayal but fulfilment.
I submit this makes better sense of Judas’ sudden remorse when Jesus was condemned.
Judas’ reactions are better understood as that of a man shocked by the (totally unexpected) consequences of his actions.
It appears more coherent to see that Judas believed he was doing the right thing by creating a scenario whereby Jesus would be captured thus triggering the revolution that everyone wanted? (You can almost bet “one of Jesus’ companions” was blood-thirsty in his de-earing of the high priest’s servant, but guess what Jesus did? See Luke 22:50-52).
The Judas kiss, therefore, wasn’t quite an act of evil cloaked in tenderness; it was really a camouflage mechanism so Judas could identify Jesus and deflect suspicion from himself.
He needed a device to betray Jesus without letting the disciples know that he was the traitor. Hence, a histrionic kiss instead of the far easier act of pointing.
Alas, though, Judas’ plan did NOT work. The violent revolution did NOT happen, despite it nearly coming to life.
Peter, one of Jesus’ disciplines, unsurprisingly took out his sword and chopped off the ear of one of the high priest’s servants.
If Jesus had not intervened (by “sticking” the ear back in its original place!) the revolution Judas wanted (according to this new perspective) may very well have started.
But Jesus made it very clear, beyond any doubt, that he rejected the way of violence.
His words spoken at his arrest (Matt 26:52-56) appear cryptically meant for people like Judas who saw no other way to usher in the victory of God apart from violent means:
- “Put your sword back in its place, for those who draw the sword will die by the sword.” (translated: I don’t care how effective this is or has been, it simply isn’t the way.)
- “Am I leading a rebellion...?” (translated: Have I looked like the kind of guy who would march with swords and spears?)
And later on to Pontius Pilate, the Roman prefect of Judaea:
- “Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels?” (translated: Trust me, if this was the way, I can and would have walked it.)
The story of Christ’s betrayal and death demonstrates not only the magnitude of cosmic and human evil, not only the immense cost of redemption, but also that second-guessing God can be earth-shattering.
Judas embodied a noble intention gone tragic. A truth rightfully grasped yet wrongly acted upon. A friend unknowingly turned traitor. A kiss which intended loyalty but produced evil.
God’s ends require God’s means. And what better time to remind ourselves of that than Holy Week.
* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.
