My behavior was so repugnant, so ensconced in betrayal, that my name would be infamous throughout the remainder of history. Judas had been a relatively popular name, something like Peter or Stephen. But that would all change after I committed treason against the most polarizing character of all time. From that point on the name Judas, like Lucipher before me, would almost never again be the given name of choice by any parents of any race.
But for once would somebody please hear me out? My role in the betrayal of Jesus was foreordained. I was only following orders. I was a puppet amongst mere mortals, a pawn in the hands of predestination. I was chosen before the foundations of the earth, a victim of entrapment. *. *. *.
Unlike my fellow disciples I never believed that Jesus was God incarnate. Therefore I never called Him Lord. ( The only disciple of this distinction ). His teachings however were quite remarkable and it was perfectly natural for me to call Him 'Rabbi'. But I was never fooled by the evidence that pointed at Him as being more than a glorified teacher. And in fact I myself had most certainly been betrayed. Jesus had given every indication that He was here to usher us into an all new era ; The Messiah that we'd long awaited. But then He began talking about His imminent death, and I began doubting His purpose. It was I that had been duped, having spent the last couple of years at His service.Besides, He never really had time for me. Each and every time that the Disciples were introduced or our names were recorded, mine was always last, an insult that was not lost on me. To be sure, I was a little taken back when Jesus made it clear to me that He knew I was about to betray Him. He must have had contacts on the other side. But when he announced in front of the disciples that there was a ' devil ' amongst us, I knew it was to me that He referred, and I quickly left the room. After all, the other eleven were all Galileans, and I was a Jew. This fact in itself, caused it's own set of problems. My people wanted Jesus arrested and tried. I was only being accommodating, as a fellow Jew, to my Judean heritage. A reluctant patriot. After Jesus and the disciples went to Gethsemane, a location that Jesus frequently used to pray, I went to the Religious leaders and was given a group of men to join me in arresting Jesus. When I explained that He wouldn't be alone, that He would have his disciples with him, they gathered up clubs and stones, in the event that a scuffle broke out. I assured them that at the right time, I would identify Jesus by kissing His cheek. *. *. *. When we arrived at Gethsemane, the garden was all but deserted. I began to walk toward the center of the garden, knowing that Jesus would be here somewhere. There was a bustle in the trees ahead of me, and then Jesus appeared as though out of no where. "Whom do you seek?". "Jesus of Nazareth". "I Am He" said the Lord. When he said it the crowd fell backwards to the ground, and I fell with them. Anxiety was a burden now, and I began to be afraid. I needed to get this whole sordid affair, over with. I approached Jesus and kissed Him quickly upon the cheek. And even as the crowd moved in to take Him, I began to feel remorse. And then He looked at me and I knew that the tear that stained His cheek was for me. Not because I'd hurt Him, but because He was devastated by the absence of His Spirit in my life. He knew I was lost.*. *. *.
They took him away, and as they left, I quickly ducked out of the Garden and chose another path back to the Sanhedrin. I took the 30 pieces of silver, the blood money, the bounty they had placed on the Lord, and threw it back at those who had given it to me. But no one stooped to pick it up. Those pious egomaniacs, them that adorned themselves in robes and reeked of incense and myrrh, they wanted nothing to do with the silver that had betrayed Gods only Son. Later they would have it collected and use it to purchase a field, a potters field, where the nameless and homeless and destitute could be buried.*. *. *. I knew that what I'd done was unforgivable. In my frenzy to betray Jesus for a fist full of silver, I was enlightened by an undeniable truth. Back at Gethsemane, when Jesus answered "I am He", and the crowd, including me, fell backward to the ground, I knew He was much more than a mere mortal. And it was still mind boggling, like a clever ruse, when Peter drew his sword and severed the soldiers ear. The blood squirted everywhere, as the ear lay in the dust at the Masters feet. But then He picked it up, and held it to the side of the soldiers head. And when He withdrew His hand, the blood was gone and the ear was intact, like it had never been harmed. What matter of Man was this? And more importantly, why had I ever doubted Him.But doubted him I had. And now the damage was done and my legacy as a pariah, was written in stone.*. *. *. My demise at my own hand has become an Historical paradox, a Scriptural enigma. There is little doubt that being convicted of sin and treachery, led me to that Potters field, the one that was purchased with the 30 pieces of silver. But let there be no mistake. I betrayed innocent blood. More than that, I failed histories most significant entity, the Son of God, with whom I shared time and miracles and witnessed God in human form. And the same one that led me astray, is the author of all that troubles this world, and more specifically, our very hearts. It's not for me or, dare I say it for you, to determine if my repentance was in time or of genuine persuasion. But I tell you this : When I went to that field, the field now called the Field Of Blood. When I wrapped that rope around my neck and fell prostrate, there to hang, till my body bloated and burst onto the rocks and earth. To where the Vultures came and quickly consumed my mottled flesh. It was to that place that I sought forgiveness I wasnt owed, and redemption I wasn't due.