If the Prodigal Son gets a robe and a ring, and Peter gets the keys to the kingdom, what happens to the man who hung himself in a field of blood? Did Jesus, descending into Hades during the three days, walk past the corpse of Judas and whisper, "Friend, do what you came for... and follow me still"?
In the Gospel narrative, Judas is the engine of salvation. He is the spark that lights the fuse of Easter morning.
Many scholars believe Judas may have been a sicarius (a dagger-wielding Zealot) who wanted a political Messiah. He wanted Jesus to overthrow Rome. But Jesus kept talking about turning the other cheek and dying for sins. Imagine the frustration. "If I force a confrontation in the Garden of Gethsemane," Judas might have reasoned, "the Lion of Judah will finally have to roar. He’ll call down the angels. He’ll have to fight."
Dante, in his Inferno , places Judas in the lowest circle of Hell, frozen in Satan’s mouth, chewed for eternity. But I wonder if Mercy reaches lower than Hell.
But what if we’ve been reading him wrong? What if, buried beneath the thirty pieces of silver, there is a story far more tragic, and far more unsettling, than simple greed?
This places us in an uncomfortable paradox. Did Judas have a choice? Theologians argue this endlessly. If Jesus had to die for the sins of the world, then someone had to betray him. Judas was playing the role written for him since Genesis. But if he was just an actor reading a script, can we condemn him for eternity?
If the Prodigal Son gets a robe and a ring, and Peter gets the keys to the kingdom, what happens to the man who hung himself in a field of blood? Did Jesus, descending into Hades during the three days, walk past the corpse of Judas and whisper, "Friend, do what you came for... and follow me still"?
In the Gospel narrative, Judas is the engine of salvation. He is the spark that lights the fuse of Easter morning.
Many scholars believe Judas may have been a sicarius (a dagger-wielding Zealot) who wanted a political Messiah. He wanted Jesus to overthrow Rome. But Jesus kept talking about turning the other cheek and dying for sins. Imagine the frustration. "If I force a confrontation in the Garden of Gethsemane," Judas might have reasoned, "the Lion of Judah will finally have to roar. He’ll call down the angels. He’ll have to fight."
Dante, in his Inferno , places Judas in the lowest circle of Hell, frozen in Satan’s mouth, chewed for eternity. But I wonder if Mercy reaches lower than Hell.
But what if we’ve been reading him wrong? What if, buried beneath the thirty pieces of silver, there is a story far more tragic, and far more unsettling, than simple greed?
This places us in an uncomfortable paradox. Did Judas have a choice? Theologians argue this endlessly. If Jesus had to die for the sins of the world, then someone had to betray him. Judas was playing the role written for him since Genesis. But if he was just an actor reading a script, can we condemn him for eternity?