Things had not gone at all the way Judas thought they would. He was convinced that his teacher, Jesus, was the Messiah sent by God to set Israel free from Roman rule. Traveling for nearly three years with Jesus had given him a front-row seat to powerful teaching and astonishing miracles. Judas could hardly wait for Jesus to make His move and begin the long-awaited revolution.
Judas appeared to be a good man on the rise. Jesus had appointed him to serve as the caretaker of the group’s finances. He enjoyed having Jesus put that level of trust in him. He felt like it elevated him above the other disciples. He daydreamed often of what it would be like to be the chief financial officer in Jesus’ kingdom.
Judas liked money. He liked the heft of silver in his hand and the way it glistened in the sunlight. He liked what it could buy him. He liked the way wealthy men looked and the admiring glances they received. For Judas, money was clearly a vulnerability, and it tripped him up now and then. John was aware of Judas’ pilfering habit:
As keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it. John 12:6
It was easy for Judas to rationalize the skimming of a little money now and then. He was the one who had to care for the accounting of deposits and disbursements. It was time-consuming work, and he wasn’t being paid. He felt he had every right to take a coin or two from the bag.
To camouflage his vulnerability and the money he stole, he would sometimes feign concern for the poor.
Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, “Why wasn’t this perfume sold, and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages.” He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; John 12:3-6
Jesus’ disciples understood political tensions were rising — and Jesus was gaining popularity. It wasn’t just the Romans who were concerned about Jesus’ influence, the Jewish leaders were also working themselves into a lather over it. If Jesus didn’t make his revolutionary move soon, it may be too late. Judas thought to himself:
One must strike while the iron is hot.
Judas decided to take matters into his own hands. He assumed that betraying Jesus would force the issue, giving Him the pivot point needed to strike. It certainly didn’t hurt that the Jews were offering thirty pieces of silver to anyone who could give information leading to the arrest of Jesus. It seemed like a win-win. He got the money and led them to Jesus.
Jesus’ reaction was not at all what Judas expected. Instead of striking, Jesus was willing to be taken into custody. Peter was also ready for revolution, so he took out his sword and struck a decisive blow at the head of Malchus. His helmet deflected the sword, but it cut off his ear. Judas believed he had made the right decision. This was it — the fight was on.
Or not. Jesus told Peter to put his sword away. He even put Malchus’ ear back on before surrendering himself into custody. Word quickly got out that the Jews were planning to execute Jesus. Matthew tells the story:
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. Matthew 27:3-5
Judas tried to fix his mistake, but returning the money didn’t work. He had cut the board too short. His last act was an attempt to fix the mistake by executing himself. That didn’t work either because the board was already too short. Remember, fixing never repairs an offense.
The first funeral I ever officiated was for a seventeen-year-old boy who took his own life after it was discovered he had been sexually abusing his stepsister. The letter he left behind described the ways his death would fix the problem. He was dead wrong.
His death didn’t fix anything. It made everything worse for his parents and his stepsister. I walked through all of it with his family, and I can assure you with absolute certainty that his suicide left nothing but devastation behind — even to this day. That’s what gravity does — it takes life. The only thing that could have fixed his failure was grace. That’s what grace does. It forgives and heals and transforms and redeems. Grace gives life; gravity takes it away. I wish so badly he had chosen grace.
My friend, suicide is black-hole-level gravity. Its singularity is death. It never fixes anything. It never improves anything. If you think it will, you are believing a lie.
Are you considering death as a viable option as you consider how to deal with a major failure or disappointment? Do you think it will fix something? I assure you, it won’t. Death destroys everything it can pull into its blackness, including those left behind. You don’t want that for the people who love you.
My dear friend, God’s grace is pulling hard on you right now. It is stronger than the gravity of condemnation and death. You are contemplating a terrible decision, but grace is placing life and hope in front of you. You have a choice to make. Choose grace. Let grace bring about a miracle of healing and redemption. No matter what you’ve done, God still loves you, and He has a purpose for your life. Let go of the past and let God lead you into a hopeful future. He has more for you, so much more.
