Then Judas Iscariot, one of the Twelve, went to the chief priests to betray [Jesus] to them. When [the chief priests] heard what [Judas] had some for, they were glad and promised him money; and [Judas] began to look for an opportunity to betray [Jesus].
Coming on the heels of the story of the woman who anointed Jesus with oil, and the apostles' rebuke, followed by Jesus' admonishing, with the misunderstood "the poor you will always have with you" line, Judas' betrayal, at least in St. Mark's Gospel, looks like a case of disillusionment with a revolutionary. After all, what were they about if not helping the poor? In St. John's Gospel, a similar story is told, with the gloss that Judas was being a hypocrite, because as keeper of the monies, he was stealing.
The reasons for Judas' betrayal are irrelevant, because they are opaque. Why does anyone ever betray that to which they have dedicated their lives? Think of Aldrich Ames at the CIA - filthy lucre was at the heart of that most disastrous intelligence failure. The payment to Judas is almost incidental; a part of the story that may or may not be historically accurate, but certainly taints Judas' reputation even further.
Yet, what else could have been the outcome of Jesus' trip to Jerusalem but his death? If it was not Judas, it would have been another trumped-up charge, with the deed occurring another time or place. More to the point, as the whole reason for the incarnation was the death and resurrection of Jesus, why place blame? Why seek a villain? Why place Judas in the deepest pit of hell, as Dante did? Was he not doing his part in God's plan all along? I believe compassion, rather than condemnation, is in order for this prototypical bad guy.
I have a book entitled The Gospel According to Judas, a thought sparked in the author's mind by a bit of graffiti on a mirror in San Francisco, "Judas, come home, all is forgiven". The book explores the radical nature of grace and the possibility of forgiveness even in the most dire and God-forsaken circumstances. What would a confrontation between the recent suicide Judas and the risen Jesus look like? Would the forgiveness offered by Jesus even be welcome? More to the author's point, how are we fundamentally different from Judas, as we are quite often much more despicable in our betrayals.
As we enter that most harrowing of times before Easter, we must keep in mind that, if we are to understand God properly, the radical nature of grace offered in Jesus' name calls us to see in Judas ourselves, and pray that the mercy offered him is the mercy offered us. If it is not, then our failure of faith, our failure of nerve, our willingness to condemn condemns us.
