What to do with Judas? (Spy Wednesday)

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

For a good part of the church’s history, this Wednesday has been celebrated as “Spy Wednesday,” a commemoration of sorts, of Judas’ negotiated betrayal of Jesus with the chief priests.

It was a few years ago, I think, when we did dramatic “personalities of the Passion” for our Lenten Wednesday series. Drawing on some of the best minds and insightful scholars, I crafted a “Judas” for my monologue who was a zealous zealot, almost in the manner of St. Paul, whose chief motivation for handing Jesus over was because Jesus wasn’t revolutionary enough, or not the kind of Messiah or Revolutionary that he expected. In other words, I painted a very sympathetic Judas, a Judas that was palatable, a Judas we can understand, even “connect” with. But is this the real Judas, the Judas of the Scriptures? I think not. And I repent.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I appreciate the work of biblical scholars and am indebted to many for insights into the biblical text that I would never have seen on my own. But sometimes I think I extend my trust too far. And I also appreciate the art of drama, of acting, both as an art form and as a creative way of engaging the Bible and its people—even the darker ones. But sometimes when over-interpretation meets dramatic flair, sometimes important things—namely the Scriptural witness itself—gets left behind.

Did you hear those few verses from St. Matthew’s Gospel this morning? Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, "What will you give me if I betray him to you?" They paid him thirty pieces of silver. And from that moment he began to look for an opportunity to betray him (Matthew 26:14-16). That’s it. Done deal. Thirty pieces of silver.

The Gospel of John echoes this simple motivation of greed by attributing it to Judas as one of his motivations for his protest of Mary of Bethany’s act of devotion when she anoints Jesus with a generous amount of expensive perfume: He [Judas] said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it (John 12:6). Not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief.

A greedy thief. Thirty pieces of silver. Seems so base, so crude, so overly-simplistic. Surely Judas didn’t betray the Lord Christ for simply thirty pieces of silver. Surely he did not hand him over for something as crude as greed. Or did he?

A zealous Judas we can identify with and is a bit more palatable to our modern sensibilities. A disappointed Judas we can nod along with. But a simply greedy Judas? That’s too simplistic. Too much raw evil. Too much exchanging the beauty of truth for the ugly face of selfishness. But there it is: Judas betrayed Jesus for thirty pieces of silver.

And it is on this day, Spy Wednesday, that we realize we could do the same. And it’s not just Judas. For which of the other eleven did not run away? Which of the “big three” didn’t fall asleep in the Garden? Even Peter, Prince of the Apostles, denies the Lord three times. None of us is any better.

And so it is perhaps fitting what we do on this Spy Wednesday: look Judas square in the face and see our own reflection. Look Judas in the face and realize the gravity of our own sin. Look Judas in the face and realize how often we betray our Lord for chump change, for base desires, for selfish reasons.

Yes, perhaps all this Judas stuff is very fitting for Wednesday of Holy Week: for it bring us to our knees, brings us very low, so that the only place to look is up—to a Cross and the One crucified upon it, to a Table laden with bread and wine—and down, to the Son of Man who is the Son of God, kneeling to wash our feet.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.