[This is an edited version of the message I presented yesterday at Andrew Price United Methodist Church at the Holy Week Services hosted by the Donelson-Hermitage Ministerial Association. I received a request to post it here, since the messages were not recorded.]
This Sunday churches everywhere will be full. We all want to celebrate the resurrection!
But this is Good Friday and tonight churches will not be so full. Good Friday is a difficult day, and we'd rather not have to remember it. But before we can sing "Christ the Lord Is Risen Today" on Sunday, we must sing "O Sacred Head" on Friday. Before we can celebrate the truth of the resurrection, we must face the truth of betrayal. So today I want to share a few thoughts on a text I've never preached before (Matthew 27:1-10 TNIV).
Early in the morning, all the chief priests and the elders of the people came to the decision to put Jesus to death. They bound him, led him away and handed him over to Pilate the governor.
When Judas, who had betrayed him, saw that Jesus was condemned, he was seized with remorse and returned the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and the elders. I have sinned," he said, "for I have betrayed innocent blood."
"What is that to us?" they replied. "That's your responsibility."
So Judas threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged himself.
The chief priests picked up the coins and said, "It is against the law to put this into the treasury, since it is blood money." So they decided to use the money to buy the potter's field as a burial place for foreigners. That is why it has been called the Field of Blood to this day. Then what was spoken by Jeremiah the prophet was fulfilled: "They took the thirty pieces of silver, the price set on him by the people of Israel, and they used them to buy the potter's field, as the Lord commanded me."
This is not a text we like to read. We know the story, but we want to run past it. There are better texts for Good Friday: "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do." "Today you will be with me in Paradise." "Mother, behold your son." "It is finished." Those are good texts to preach on Good Friday.
But what are we to do with a story like this? What are we to do with religious leaders like this—cowardly, conspiring, hypocritical? And what are we to do with Judas—3 years with Jesus, and then this? And why?
Matthew does not tell us why Judas did what he did, leaving us to endless speculation. Was it for the money? (Just the greed of the one who stole from the poor box—but is anyone that greedy?) Was it for political motives? (Hoping to force Jesus to revolution—then crumbling in despair when the plan fails.) Was it for religious reasons? (Angry rejection of Jesus' vision of the kingdom of God and how he challenged traditional beliefs.)
The only explanation the gospels seem to offer is that it had something to do with Satan entering him. But that doesn't help me feel any better. It makes me wonder what Satan could make me do.
Matthew has a different agenda in writing than to explain Judas' actions. First, this is part of his effort to demonstrate that Jesus was innocent of the charges against him, that Jesus was put to death not for his own crimes but because of the crimes of his accusers. Even Jesus' betrayer declares his innocence, and those who convicted him don't care.
Second, Matthew continues here the fulfillment theme he has emphasized since the beginning of the gospel. He shows again in this text that Jesus is the culmination of Scripture, of Israel's story, and of God's work.
Matthew seems to say he is quoting Jeremiah, but the words are not a quotation of any passage of Scripture. The words are closer to a passage in Zechariah, though he may also allude to some verses in Jeremiah (see Zechariah 11:12,13; Jeremiah 19:1–13; 32:6–9). This is typical of Matthew. He is not concerned to say that the prophets actually stated that these exact things would happen. He is more concerned to say that all sorts of things that Moses and the prophets talked about in their day are seen all over again in Jesus in a way that fulfills or completes the story of God and his people.
How Matthew is quoting or alluding to Scripture is the subject for scholarly debate. For us, it leads to more important questions: If this is the way God's people acted in the days of the prophets and in the days of Jesus, would the story be different today? Would religious leaders today act differently? Would church-goers react differently than temple-goers? Would I be like Judas?
What are we to do with Judas? And what are we to make of Judas' fate? Did he repent? Matthew speaks of Judas experiencing such deep regret that he killed himself. Was that true repentance? If he did really repent, then was he saved after all? Could "Father, forgive them" apply to Judas as well?
I think we tend to have one of two reactions to that thought. We either are offended at the very idea that Judas could be saved—he deserves hell! Or we want to believe he could have repented and been forgiven—God forgives everyone!
I wonder if both reactions are a little self-serving. In the first case, our righteous indignation confirms our self-righteous confidence. Condemning Judas makes us feel more righteous. In the other, excusing Judas makes us feel good as we excuse ourselves. If Judas can get off, so can I.
But we are in no position to judge or excuse. It is neither our place to condemn Judas nor to pardon to him.
Judas does not seem to have truly repented. Matthew does not use the usual word for repentance which refers to a change of mind and heart, a turning to God. This word refers more often to feelings of regret—but regret for what? That an innocent man has been condemned? That his plans failed? Judas doesn't react like he has truly repented. There is no mention of prayer. He doesn't turn to God, he goes to the leaders and tries to give back the money. There is no attempt to speak up for Jesus to Pilate and stop what is about to happen. But God will judge that.
And no matter what plausible explanations we come up with, they won't justify what Judas did. Whatever his motives—whether greed or patriotism or religion or some other—it cannot excuse spending 3 years with the Messiah, the Lord of creation, the incarnation of God's love, and then selling Jesus out for his own personal gain or his own agenda—however right the reasons may have seemed to him at the time.
But are we never tempted to use Jesus for our own agendas?
I think of the protesters who were in the news again this week, members of an angry little church who protest at military funerals shouting that the death of the troops in Iraq and Afghanistan is God's judgment on America for condoning sexual sin. Would Jesus shout at people grieving the death of their sons? But they do this in Jesus' name.
Or on a lighter note, I heard this week that "President Obama is not a brown-skinned, anti-war socialist who wants healthcare for everyone—you're thinking of Jesus." (I don't think that's really a fair characterization of Jesus, but I like it better than the first group.) We can all use Jesus for our agendas, can't we?
Or how about people on both sides of a football field praying in Jesus' name—one side that the field goal would go through and win the game, and the other that it would miss? (I have wondered if that confuses God…whose prayers should he answer?)
Or how about using Jesus to defend our denominational dogma and identity? I love the story about the three ministers debating whose church Jesus would attend. The Episcopalian says, "Jesus would go to our church because we have apostolic succession and can trace our church leaders all the way back to the apostles." The Pentecostal says, "He would obviously go to our church because we have the Holy Spirit." The Church of Christ minister says, "Of course he would go to a Church of Christ—why would he change after all these years!"
Or what about my friend who left his wife and daughters claiming, "Jesus wants me to be happy."
No, we'd never use Jesus for our own agendas, would we? Or turn on him if he failed us.
In this story we are faced with religious leaders who want to pass the buck and say "it's not our responsibility"—but it clearly is—and they become models of hypocrisy. We are faced with a follower of Jesus who turns his back on his Savior and becomes the model of unfaithfulness and betrayal. We are faced with the truth that the Scriptures are a consistent story of human unfaithfulness and God's steadfast love.
And we are faced with the truth that this is also our story.
Good Friday reminds us that we are not good—despite our efforts to justify ourselves. But Good Friday also reminds us that God is good and his steadfast love and mercy continue forever.
Let the tragic story of Judas call us to sing more earnestly the last line of "O Sacred Head":
"Lord, let me never, never outlive my love for Thee."
