Betrayed by a kiss. Saviour of the world.

Judas, giver of history’s best-known kiss, has always had a bad rap.

While Judas was a very capable individual – he was picked to be the treasurer of Christ’s preaching and healing and wandering and laughing troupe for a reason – we know that he was more interested in skimming the coffers and in other questionable behaviour before he undertook that most unbecoming act of betraying Christ late one night by kissing him on the cheek.

All for 30 pieces of silver that Judas ended up throwing away anyway, money that was left to roll all over the floor at the feet of the religious leaders who he cooked up the deal with.

This, prior to Judas throwing his own life away by hanging himself before, as the story goes, his body fell on some rocks so hard that his innards came spilling out.

While the scriptural account doesn’t explicitly state it, the long-held speculation of historians is that Judas felt, quite simply, let down by the Messiah. Judas had a different image of what Jesus should be like. There would be no revolution, Judas finally realized. Not how he would have liked it, anyway.

No, there would be no crowning of the Messiah as king and there would be no ministerial post for himself in the new messianic government, no BMW and fine-dining, and no glory, no, not in that sense.

Had Judas stuck around another day or so, he would have witnessed for himself how ugly it would all get: the Messiah – or this man who claimed to be the Messiah, this man who had healed the sick and raised the dead and had a freakish power over the natural world, this apparent God-Man – would, in fact, hang naked on a cross as the object of jokes and scorn and utter humiliation.

But in this large disappointment, Judas isn’t so much different than anyone else who expects more from their messiahs. And who of us wouldn’t like their god to be more like, say, Zeus, with thunderbolt in hand, or, at least with gold in a kingly crown on a royal brow? We like to see power. And justice. And plenty of things. Before breakfast if possible.

But this? This, what happened on a Friday some 2,000 years ago? No thank you.

Then, to think, somewhere along the way, they came up with the name Good Friday for it. At the time, there wasn’t a shred of good in any of it.

You have to wonder, though, what the rest of Judas’ story might have been if he had been a little less full of himself and his own expectations and a little more filled with patience and an openness to a God who, after-all, likes to do things his own way.

Because then Sunday came. And with it, a different sort of revolution. A revolution that we still remember this weekend, all this time later, because more than anything, it was one that revolutionized human hearts.

Because God loved the world. This is how Judas’ colleague John put it. God loved the world so much, he even gave his Son. His precious Son. To take away the sins of Judas. And to take away the sins of those of us who are just like Judas.

And in its place, in some strange way, replace our failures with life that we otherwise don’t even believe is possible.

This Friday morning, here in our Africa home, my children and their mother and I read about all this. Like millions of others around the world also have meditated on, this Friday. This Good Friday.

And we are profoundly grateful.

2017-07-19T01:24:50+00:00 April 18th, 2014|Categories: Daily Dad|Tags: , , , , , |6 Comments

6 Comments

  1. Diane Jones April 18, 2014 at 9:26 pm

    Thanks, Thom.
    Can’t wait for the Sequel – Sunday?
    Easter Blessings on the Froese 5,
    Diane

  2. Rick April 19, 2014 at 9:56 pm

    The Christian gospel is that I am SO flawed, that Jesus had to die for me;
    Yet I am SO loved and VALUED, that Jesus was GLAD to die for me.

    This should lead to deep humility & deep confidence at the same time.
    It undermines both swaggering and sniveling.
    I cannot feel superior to anyone, and yet . . .
    I have nothing to prove to anyone.

    I do not think more of myself, nor less of myself.
    Instead, I think of myself . . . LESS. Tim Keller

    And without the joy and thankfullness, without the deep confidence . . . Judas felt suicidally ‘less’ ?

  3. Thomas Froese April 20, 2014 at 2:07 pm

    Thank you Rick for sharing these well placed words.

  4. Thomas Froese April 20, 2014 at 2:08 pm

    Thank you, Diane. May you also be blessed this Easter.

  5. Frederick Nietzsche April 20, 2014 at 5:27 pm

    I’ve always loved a good fairy tale. What I said about god being dead is inaccurate. How can something that never existed die? According to the Gospel of Judas when Jesus kissed him and said “you will betray me” it was not a prediction but an order.
    Otherwise how could Jesus, one of a plethora of self proclaimed “messiahs” roaming the area in the 1st century CE have set himself up to be arrested.
    Just saying. I think there is room for all our opinions.

  6. Thomas Froese April 22, 2014 at 8:13 am

    Yes, Mr. Nietzsche. Interesting name. Of course, you are right, we are all entitled to an opinion. Whether they hold any veracity, in this case historic veracity, is another matter. If you are open to the veracity (or lack of) of the Gospel of Judas (something tells me you’re not, but prove me wrong), you will find this book interesting. This journalist, a former Chicago crime writer, Lee Strobel, a former skeptic, just as much if not more skeptical than you are, did take the time earlier in his life to do some honest and soul-searching investigation into these sorts of matters, including the gnostic gospels. Go ahead and read this. With an open mind. If you think you can. http://www.amazon.ca/Case-For-Christ-Lee-Strobel/dp/0310209307

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