Sermon:
March 31, 1999
Holy Week Worship

Scripture:
Matthew 26:1-16
John 13:30

Nightfall

No one really knows all that was in the heart of Judas Iscariot. The Gospel of John tells us that part of the motivation for that deed of infamy was greed, but thirty pieces of silver was hardly a fortune, even in that day. If greed were all that was involved, surely he could have done better, given the fear and anger that was operating in Jesus' enemies. One can hardly help but wonder if there was more.

The thoughts in this narrative this evening are a reverent effort to explore that possibility, and in the partially fictitious character I create, to see if there is any resemblance to persons living.

* * * * *

Judas paused a moment in the doorway of the room. Behind him the oil lamps cast dark shadows against the wall behind the twelve men still reclined around the `U' shaped table. The corners of the room were dark, but the darkness there was nothing compare to the scene beyond the doorway. Beyond the doorway, the darkness was almost a tangible thing, as if you could touch it or feel it or even squeeze some of the darkness out of it. Blackness seemed to drip from the sky and cover everything; it collected in pools along the sides of the buildings and hid the outlines of the structures. There was an ominous quality in this night and even one who was used to the dark could feel it, as if this were the night that would overcome the light and the dawn would never come again.

Judas felt the fear and wondered at it. Did the others suspect him? Did they know the dark errand that called him? No, that could not be. They could not know or they would never have let him leave the room. Besides, the manner in which each one had asked the question, "Is it I, Lord?" was proof enough that they did not know.

The Master's announcement had burst upon them like a clap of thunder from a clear sky. "One of you shall betray me," he said. It was not a question or even an exclamation. It came as a simple statement of fact, as though Jesus had already come to terms with the fact himself and was resigned to its inevitability. All that had saved Judas was the fact that everyone else seemed to feel the same shock that he did and his own startled expression was little different from the one on eleven other faces. Each one seemed to realize that he had failed Jesus before and that there was the possibility of doing it again. Even John had asked if he would be the one.

It was when John had spoken that Judas knew that he would have to ask also. He could not let it rest that he was the only one who did not feel that possibility; but he had thought that he would never get the words out of his throat. His voice seemed strained and strange to his own ears. He thought that surely the sound would betray him. But no one seemed to pay any more attention to him than they did to anyone else. He guessed that each was too preoccupied with searching his own soul to suspect another. As for himself, he had nearly died when Jesus had looked at him and said, "What you do, do quickly."

How did know? What did he know?

For a moment he had panicked. The Teacher's eyes seemed to pierce his soul and he sensed in him a pleading that he could not understand. But he was resolute; the die was cast; the deed was already done. The coin purse that he carried at his side was heavy with the silver coins --- thirty of them. He tried not to think that they represented the going price of a slave in the market place, but the irony of that awareness would not leave him. To sell the Master for the price of a slave!

He had been jolted when the High Priest had counted out the amount that they would pay for what he would do that night. Were they mocking him? Did they know that Jesus had spoken of the servant role of the Messiah?

It was that attitude of servitude on the part of Jesus that had finally decided him on his course of action. For months he had thought that Jesus was only biding his time, waiting for the strategic moment to proclaim himself as the Long Awaited One who would throw off the yoke of Rome and restore Israel to its rightful place among the nations. Judas had his vision of what that would mean. The rich and prosperous collaborators with Rome would be thrown out and Israel would once again be for true Israelites. Yes, it would be grim and bloody for awhile, and many would probably die, perhaps even many of those for whom the revolution was supposed to be waged, but was it not better to die fighting for freedom that to live in slavery?

Those who led the revolution would be the princes of the New Israel and they would no doubt have to institute their own controls to keep the revolution from getting out of bounds, but then someone had to be in control, why not them? Once it had occurred to him that this was exactly what the present puppet leaders no doubt said and felt, and he wondered if every aspiring rebel rationalized his violence in that manner, making virtue of their inclinations. But when such thoughts came, he always told himself that it would all work out for the best; the end would justify the means.

So he had waited for Jesus to announce the moment for rebellion to begin. Several times he had almost given up, but each time he had decided to wait a little longer. The events of the past week had brought it all to a head, however.

First there had come the wasted opportunity when the crowds had welcomed them into the city. It would have been a perfect time for Jesus to announce his identity and call for an uprising! Jerusalem was filled with people, as it always was on the Holy Days. The shouting crowds had reached an emotional pitch that would have given impetus to the moment. He could see the more knowledgeable of the Roman guards fingering their swords when the people began laying crossed palm branches in the path of the little donkey that Jesus rode. Some of them knew enough Jewish history to remember that crossed palms were the symbols on one of the coins of the time of the Maccabees, the last period of Jewish freedom. For some, they had become a symbol of freedom, and now some of the people were placing the branches in that manner in the streets. It was subtle, but it was filled with symbolism; yet they could hardly arrest people for throwing branches in the street.

The Pharisees and the Sadducees had noticed the action, too, and their anxiety was nearly as great as that of the soldiers. They recognized the power this man had over the people and they feared that he would use it. They knew that any revolution would leave them out of power, and they could not tolerate that. The symbolism of the palms was not lost on the Teacher either, but it had only moved him to tears and a sad discourse about Jerusalem's failure to heed the prophets.

It was then that Judas had decided that he had made a mistake. Jesus would never do what Judas wanted him to do, what he was convinced was necessary to do to right the wrongs that plagued his people. He was a soft Messiah. He talked of the Kingdom of God, but he was not willing to fight for it. The day before, while they were resting in Bethany, Judas had seen a penitent woman pour a jar of spikenard over Jesus' feet and he had gasped at the waste. When he thought of how many swords and daggers that money could have purchased, how many rebels it would have armed for the day that was ahead of them, he had blurted out his objection. Quickly, he covered himself by talking about giving the money to the poor in general, but Jesus had quietly rebuked him, saying that they would always have the poor with them and they would not always have him and that the woman was anointing for burial. That statement had ended any discussion of the matter.

The week had gone by slowly for Judas, in spite of the busy pace at which the Teacher had gone. His hopes had flared again briefly when Jesus had driven the money changers from the temple, but nothing had come of that either, except to anger the religious leaders even more. The anger Jesus had shown so briefly seemed to come from his feeling of the desecration of the temple more than at the domination of Rome, with their images of Caesar and eagles on their currency that made the exchange of coins for worship necessary in the first place. But the moment could have been used to provide a springboard to larger action if Jesus had wanted to do so. But again the moment passed.

It was the pivotal point for Judas, however. He had gone to the chief priests immediately afterwards. He could not stand the continual ignoring of such opportunities, such waste of resources, such disregard for the plight of the nation. At least that is what he told himself. Deep down, he was also aware that he was angry at himself for having backed the wrong man.

After the deed was done, Judas tried to tell himself that by putting Jesus in the hands of his enemies, he could force him to use his power to save the nation because he would need to use it to save himself. But when he was honest with himself, he had to admit that it was simply that Jesus' way was not his way, and that he, Judas, was not willing to change. He did not doubt Jesus' love and compassion for the poor. He had seen him heal the sick and feed the hungry and he had seen the energy drain out of him from the hours of teaching and helping, but Jesus always seemed to put the spiritual needs above the bodily needs somehow. It was as if he felt that the poor could miss the Kingdom by seeking what they did not have as easily as the rich could miss it by seeking more. Yet he had heard him tell the rich to share what they had and even tell some of them to sell their goods and give the money to the poor. What was wrong with telling the poor to demand what Jesus told the rich to give them?

There had been another bad moment earlier that evening. On there way to the room, the disciples had been arguing over which one of them would be the greatest in the coming Kingdom. James and John had been putting forth their case and Peter had been his usual strong willed self. Judas had not entered into the argument because he had already decided that there was not going to be any kingdom. But when they had come into the room that had been prepared for them and Jesus had indicated that he, Judas, was to sit beside him on one of the seats of honor, he had nearly given it up. John was on the other side of Jesus and the three of them would share the same dipping bowl. Simon Peter, in a fit of petulance at not being in either seat had stomped around the room to what was considered the lowest position at the table and sulked there like a spiteful child, who, being refused what he wanted, proceeds to break his favorite toy. For a moment, Judas felt the pull of the old loyalties; but the moment passed. He had made his bargain; he was not going to ride that peak and valley road again, with high hopes one moment, only to have them dashed low the next. What he had done, he had done, and whatever the Teacher may have meant by his words, "What you do, do quickly," the words had firmed Judas' resolve.

It was nearly over. He was to meet the guards sent by the High Priest and lead them to the place where they could take Jesus captive without the knowledge of the people. He knew where the Teacher would go when they left the Upper Room. They would go to the olive grove in the Garden of Gethsemane, across the Kidron Valley, where he had been going every night this week to pray. There would be no one there except Jesus and the disciples and the guards would have no trouble at all.

In the room behind him, he heard Jesus giving thanks over the loaf and the cup. But there was a difference in the words that he was using this evening. Judas had never heard him speak before of `his body and his blood' as a New Covenant.

He stood silhouetted in the doorway for a moment. The glow of the lamps cast his shadow forward where it was swallowed up by the greater darkness that lay in wait. Judas stepped through the doorway and closed the door behind him; and the darkness was complete.