The Choices That Come From The Small Places In Us

As we arrive at the last official day of the Lenten season before we enter what is called the Triduum (which starts the evening of Holy Thursday and continues through Holy Saturday evening and means “three days” in Latin), we have two more readings that contrast for us the many layers of human experience going on during this week.

In the first reading from Isaiah 50 we have some of the words that I ever-aspire to as a minister and a counselor, “The Lord GOD has given me a well-trained tongue, That I might know how to speak to the weary a word that will rouse them. Morning after morning God opens my ear that I may hear; And I have not rebelled, have not turned back.”

What I love about this passage is two-fold. First, wouldn’t it be amazing if we all had well-trained tongues that knew how to “rouse the weary.” In a world filled with such vitriol and hateful language, it would be wonderful, indeed, if we could practice offering words of affirmation, comfort and uplift (in person or online) – words that rouse the weary and not make people weary.

The second part of the passage I am drawn to is the idea that “morning after morning God opens my ear that I may hear” – and we actually listen! Every single day God is speaking to us somehow – through people, through situations, through the natural world – if only we would develop the ears to hear what is being spoken.

A well-trained tongue. Open ears. Not turning away from what we hear. Sadly, that’s not the only reality.

The gospel shifts us to Jesus’ last night with his disciples from Matthew 26 and the focus is on Judas. We read of how he went to the chief priests and asked, “What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?” The chief priests offer him “thirty pieces of silver” and Judas agrees.

Then when Jesus is at table with his friends during a Passover meal he says, “Amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me.” Deeply distressed at this, the disciples began to say to him one after another, “Surely it is not I, Lord?” He and Judas have a brief exchange and it becomes clear that Judas is the one who will betray him.

Because the figure of Judas has been so maligned over the centuries, I think that we have missed an important invitation to see ourselves in him. I mean what kid wants to play Judas in the church play? And yet the reality is that we’re probably more like him than we care to admit.

Historically, we’re not sure why Judas betrayed Jesus. Judas did not leave a manifesto or a journal of any kind.

[Note: There is this book that was discovered of rather strange writings which has come to be known as The Gospel of Judas. This “gospel” features Judas as the favored disciple whom Jesus taught all kinds of esoteric teachings that he didn’t teach any of the other disciples. It’s part of the Gnostic tradition of writings that offer us some spiritual insights but also raise a lot of problematic questions (and thus is not widely regarded as being historically accurate and a significant part of the tradition).]

The betrayal could certainly have been about money, and Judas could have easily put “profit above people” in his calculations. We see people doing this all the time in our world and we’re in a time where this is routinely happening in our government. Many of us may be engaged in this as well – intentionally or not – because our economy is generally driven by the “bottom line” where we want cheap prices as long as we do not have to witness the human and environmental cost of those prices. 

But Judas could also have been disappointed in Jesus. 

As I reflected a few years back, one theory about Judas is that he was a kind of militant who was actually disappointed that Jesus was not doing MORE to overthrow the political and religious leaders.  He recognized Jesus’ power and could not understand why Jesus didn’t use it.  Some speculate that his betrayal was actually a set up in order to get Jesus to act in the garden – provoking a crisis where Jesus would use his power.  But, instead, Jesus chose a nonviolent path, and Judas did not see it coming that Jesus would rather die than start a war.

Another theory is that Judas was from a different region than the other disciples and grew tired of what he might have perceived as preferential treatment of those close to Jesus.   People like Peter may have gotten all of the attention, and Judas felt left out of the equation.  Jealousy and resentment can lead us to do some pretty rash things sometimes.

And theologian Barbara Brown Taylor posits an explanation in one of her sermons that has a painful tenderness to it.  She says that

 Maybe [Judas] just fell out of love with Jesus. That happens sometimes. One day you think someone is wonderful and the next day he says or does something that makes you think twice. He reminds you of the difference between the two of you and you start hating him for that – for the difference – enough to begin thinking of some way to hurt him back.

Profit over people. Deep disappointment that someone was not as we thought they’d be. Feeling betrayed and resentful. Falling out of love with someone and not caring if you hurt them somehow.

Any and all of these help me to see myself in Judas, and I also have come to see myself in Judas’ regret at a later time. Who among us has not taken some form of shortsighted action and later wished that we had been more thoughtful, more kind, more attentive and more generous and open-hearted.

The Jesuits have a prayer practice of prayerfully  putting ourselves into the scriptures in the different characters – letting them reveal something new to us. Putting ourselves in the place of Judas might humanize him for us as well as let him become more of a spiritual guide and teacher for us – not as an irredeemable character but as someone who lost touch with the divine voice that we hear in our first reading. 

For today, maybe we just hold the pain that has resulted in our world from all of the choices that have come from places in us that were small, misguided, petty or shortsighted – pain that we have caused, pain that we have felt. May we more earnestly strive to open our ears and hearts so that morning after morning we hear and take in God’s voice and put it into action on behalf of the beloved community