Wednesday, April 20, 2011

From Friend to Betrayer

April 20, 2011
Wednesday of Holy Week

By Colleen O’Sullivan
One of the Twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, “What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?” They paid him thirty pieces of silver, and from that time on he looked for an opportunity to hand him over. When it was evening, he reclined at table with the Twelve. And while they were eating, he said, “Amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me.” Deeply distressed at this, they began to say to him one after another, “Surely it is not I, Lord?” He said in reply, “He who has dipped his hand into the dish with me is the one who will betray me. The Son of Man indeed goes, as it is written of him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed. It would be better for that man if he had never been born.” Then Judas, his betrayer, said in reply, “Surely it is not I, Rabbi?” He answered, “You have said so.” (Matthew 26:14-16, 20-25)

Piety
O Lord, when we contemplate the betrayal of Judas, we are led to gaze upon the darkness in our own souls. We call ourselves believers and disciples, but how quickly we, too, leave your side, turn our backs on you or deny you. Forgive us, we pray, and strengthen us for the journey.

Study
About eight or nine years ago, I was in Florida during Holy Week. The church I went to with my friends had an arrangement off to the side that made an indelible impression on me. There was a rough cross made from thick tree limbs coming up out of an array of palms. Intertwined throughout the palms and around the cross were the thirty pieces of silver. They were strung on wire so fine that from a distance they appeared to be suspended in mid-air. The triumph of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, the bitterness of betrayal and the agony and death on the Cross all tied together just as they are during Holy Week.

Today, Wednesday of Holy Week, we focus on Judas’ betrayal of Jesus. If I could talk with Judas, I would have a lot of questions. Why did you do it? I don’t know how much thirty pieces of silver were worth in the first century, but did you do it for the money? Did you need the money or were you just greedy? If you despised Jesus that much, why did you travel with him and the other disciples for three years? You could have just gone home if you didn’t want to be with them. Did they treat you differently because you were the only non-Galilean in the bunch? Were you just tired of being the outsider? At the Last Supper, how could you dip your hand into the same dish with Jesus, a sign of friendship, and protest that surely you were not the betrayer he was talking about? Nowhere in the Gospels does it ever say that Jesus was unkind or uncaring toward his ragtag bunch of disciples. Why did you do it?

The problem with all these questions is that they’re the same kind of questions the Lord asks you and me every time we deny or betray him. Why did you do it? Haven’t I loved you enough? You say you are my friends and disciples, yet you turn your backs on me. Why? What more could I do for you than love you, die for you, give myself to you every day in the Eucharist? Why do you turn your backs on me, deny me or betray me?

Action
It’s significant that when Jesus says, “Amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me,” every one of the disciples wonders if he’s talking about them. We know ourselves so well. We may not be selling Jesus for silver coins, but we betray him every time we sin. Take a few minutes today to ask his forgiveness for the many times we have denied him or turned our backs on him.