The Other Story

And Satan entered into Judas who was called Iscariot, belonging to the number of the twelve. Luke 22:3 NASB

Satan entered – Most of us think that Judas conspired with Satan in the betrayal of Yeshua. Somehow the Devil made him do it. Of course, we ignore the human side of the story because it has been converted into an instance of spiritual warfare. But Judas obviously didn’t start this way. Something happened that allowed him to choose this path; something that wasn’t operating when he was chosen as a follower. For most of us, Judas is the quintessential bad guy. This verse “proves” it. But I wonder if we aren’t a lot more like Judas than Paul (or maybe Paul is really like Judas too). So I want to share something with you. A story. A bit of fiction about the human side of Judas. See if you don’t find something familiar here.

This is an excerpt from a new book, coming very soon:

For the last few months the tension had been almost unbearable. Every time the group needed to make even the smallest purchase, he agonized that one of the others would question where the money had gone. So he kept to himself. He wasn’t inclined to be outspoken anyway. For as long as he could remember, small sins had plagued him until they grew to be living inkblots, publicly staining his character. More than once he had run from those who found him out. But he always knew how to survive. That was it. He was a survivor. He didn’t need anyone. He could take care of himself. Maybe it was his upbringing. Maybe it was the need to always be on guard. He had learned early that no one really cared, really understood. No one could really be trusted with his soul. Yet, somehow, he thought that this time it would be different. The leader seemed so confident, so unruffled by those around him, as though he were looking into a different dimension when he saw the same barren hillsides they traveled together.

That alone would have been enough attraction. But when this man actually invited him to join his special company, the call was irresistible. Finally, here was someone who didn’t care about the mistakes of the past. Finally, he met someone who seemed to put unbreakable trust back into his life.

“But the past is never erased, is it?” thought Judas to himself. Even when Jesus seemed to be the perfect answer to all of those internal struggles Judas had carried for years, it turned out to be just another pipe dream.

Judas stood by the door to the second-floor stairway as his mind paced itself through the last three years. He remembered how hopeful he had been when that call came to him. A new start. A chance to begin again. And not alone, but with a recognized leader who had already gathered some respect for his miraculous works. What joy he had felt those first few months. What power he had seen. How wonderful it was to feel the envy of those poor hundreds who tried to get close to Jesus but couldn’t. He was one of the chosen.

Then the trouble started. He had only himself to blame at first. A few coins held aside just for his personal use. It was really a petty amount and, after all, look at the indignity they had to suffer at the hands of those hypocritical spiritual charlatans. So he took just a pittance for himself, just for a little something to ease his troubled mind. He was just trying to survive.

No one really knew. He had done it countless times before he joined this rag-tailed band of no-accounts. Actually, now that he really thought about it, any one of them might have done the same had they been given the opportunity. Just watching out for old Number One. What was the harm in that?

Of course, he had to admit that he might have overstepped the bounds occasionally. If he had just been a little more discreet. A little more cautious. But then they were the ones who put him in charge of the funds, weren’t they? And if they were that stupid, then they deserved whatever they got.

That incident with the perfume, though, that was a real blunder. It still rankled him as he thought about that whore being given such honor. Here he had trundled along behind this spineless merchant of doom for three years, watching him excite the crowds to near frenzy with his magical powers only to see him run off to hide in the desert. How many times had he endured the personal humiliation of Yeshua’s refusal to step up to the challenge? Why didn’t he use that power he had to drive out the scum of Rome and set up a real kingdom, one with power and glory? How many times had he pleaded with Yahweh to get this leader in line? Then they could all be wealthy, secure, important.

But, no, that wasn’t good enough for this Messiah! Instead he spent his time with the losers. He even had that hated Matthew as part of the group. What an insult! Too bad it would end now, before Matthew could be humiliated for his past allegiance. At least the personal affront of association with that low-life bastard would soon be finished. It was just dumb luck that Matthew never kept track of the funds. He certainly knew how. But he was under the leader’s spell just like the rest of them – still thinking that the dream would come true.

“Not me,” Judas muttered out loud. His own voice surprised him. “This really is getting to me,” he thought. Soon enough it would be finished and he could get on with his life. Three years wasted on this crusade. Not soon enough to get out. Not one day soon enough.

Judas bristled. His thoughts returned to the whore. It was possible that Yeshua really liked the woman. She certainly was attractive and probably great in bed. But anyone who intends to lead a nation can’t be dragging common street whores around with him. Yeshua should have waited just a little longer. Once they had the upper hand, he could have had any woman he wanted.

It was so humiliating. Under those circumstances, complaining about the waste of money was justified. “If only that damn tax collector hadn’t been so quick to give me the eye,” he muttered. That had nearly done it, right there. It took every cunning fiber in his being to get them off the subject of expenses once he blurted out his complaint. But he prevailed. He bluffed them all. To this very day, no one really knew.

The wind whipped around Judas’ tunic. He pulled it closer to gather in his body warmth. He hated to wait. All his life he had hated waiting. Being part of the masses. Being treated like the common garbage that most people were. “That’s what it really came down to,” he thought. He just couldn’t take the disgrace of being unrecognized. Those early days held so much promise. Now that he looked back on them, even he had been duped.

Anger shot through him now as he recalled those incidents when James and John and Simon were given special consideration. How could Yeshua have been so blind? Of all the possibilities, why would he choose two half-wit brothers who were nothing but Mama’s boys and that oaf of a fisherman? That guy was so stupid he didn’t even know when to shut his own mouth.

Judas remembered his humiliation when those three returned from the mountain top. They couldn’t stop talking about this vision thing they had seen. Why on earth would Yeshua overlook the chance of putting someone in the inner circle who really knew how to use power?   Someone like him. At least he had the satisfaction of seeing that buffoon Simon put in his place with the conversation about Elijah. Judas had enjoyed that. Especially since his answer to the question was wrong.

Buying a few favors with what’s-her-name had helped him forget too. There was something very satisfying about secretly knowing that he was using the same money that Simon had been given to get a little for himself.

Now that he reflected on the disappointments that had led him to this night, he realized that none of the petty incidents with the other followers had really pushed him over the edge. Of course, it was nice to know that he was about to put them all in their places. But none of them were the real cause. They were all such sheep. Lead, follow or get out of the way. That was his motto. And those other eleven certainly needed to get out of the way.

No, now that he thought about it, the real culprit was Yeshua. If anyone were to blame for this night, it was Yeshua himself. How many times had Yeshua made promises that he did not keep? “I will give you living water so that you will never thirst.” “My yoke is easy and my burden light.” “I have come that you might live life abundantly.” Now, after three years of waiting, where was the living water that an army could use to cross the desert without thirst? Where was the victory to make burdens light? Where was the life of wealth and pleasure and abundance?

Nowhere! Nothing! Not a single promise kept! It sounded great. It looked great when the crowds stirred with anticipation. But in the end, Yeshua got hung up on martyrdom.

By the time they came to Jerusalem, Judas had made up his mind. He had to get out. His possible exposure was getting more and more risky. He actually ran into one of his suppliers just that week. Fortunately, the others thought that he was simply discussing arrangements for food when he stopped to talk to the man. In the city, anything could happen.

Besides, the whole scheme was collapsing around him. It certainly wasn’t his fault that their one-time leader was going schizoid on them. First Yeshua marched into the temple and beat the hell out of those money changers. Judas reached into his inside pocket and felt the glow of a few of the coins he had “rescued” from the temple floor. Yeshua had the whole city buzzing with great expectations. Then he began to talk about his death wish. What nonsense! How was he supposed to inspire confidence in the masses when he went around talking about death all the time? That really confirmed Judas’ suspicions. The man just couldn’t cut it. Time to take the money and run.

That’s when Judas realized how he might turn this personal disgrace into a little profit. This should never have had to happen if Yeshua had only consulted him about making it to the top. Judas knew the ways of the world. A little here, a little there, and pretty soon people were under your control. Sheep. That’s what Yeshua had called them and he was right. But they were sheep to be used, not to be given gifts that belonged to the more deserving. Yeshua had lost it when he confused benevolence with benefit.

It was great to be kind to the sheep, but there was a limit to compassion and charity. Heaven knows that all those sheep were ready to do whatever he asked. They would have gladly sacrificed themselves if he had only given them a vision of a new regime. Judas knew it. He felt it as he had felt nothing else in his life. “Yeshua should have done it my way,” he thought. But instead of the strategy of powerful comrades, Yeshua spoke of being servants. How ridiculous! No one ever got anything by being a slave. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer. That was the real way of the world.

Judas flicked his eyes to the right when he heard the scrape of sandals on the stone. There he was, coming along the alleyway. Judas stepped from the door just as the man passed. As he came up behind the messenger, he whispered, “’Evening, friend.” The man jumped as if he had seen a spirit.

“You startled me,” he replied.

“You can never be too cautious, you know. No one watches your back for you.”

Without another word, they strode off into the dark. Soon they came to the courtyard of the high priest. Judas stepped over the sill and ducked inside.

[END]

Did you find someone else in this little story?

“For evil could not exist without the Holy; it fed on the holiness of a mitzvah tinged with self-centeredness.”[1]

Topical Index: Judas, Satan, Luke 22:3

[1] Abraham Heschel, A Passion for Truth, p. 43.