The Peculiarity of Betrayal
Matthew 26:47-56
Is there ever a good time for betrayal? A perfect circumstance? A proper outfit? Appropriate weather? Is there ever the right kind of condition to soften the blow of betrayal’s force? The right mix of company? An ideal time of day? The proper delivery method… a kiss maybe? Is there anyway to see the moment differently especially if one was aware of its arrival? Maybe that changes everything. If betrayal is expected. If the one betrayed sees the tainted light at the end of the tunnel before taking the path that leads to the tunnel in the first place. Or what if the betrayer sees one’s action as an unfortunate means to a desired end? Whether on a full stomach or with familiar faces I imagine that there is never a good time for betrayal. Never an easy way to brace oneself. Never a pain free method to wield its power, especially when the betrayal is between friends.
And that’s what Jesus maintains in the midst of the unfolding scene, in the center of the swords and the yelling and the accusations. On the other end of a greeting that should have signaled kinship, but instead set in motion that which led to death Jesus maintains that Judas was a friend. Not the betrayer. Not a liar. Not a trickster or a shyster. But a friend. And maybe in that one moment, in the beginning of his earthly end, Jesus shows us something that is both devastating and grace filled all at the same time. He shows us that sometimes the most painful experiences happen at the hands, whether misguided or intentional, of those who are dear to us in ways that change the relationship forever but not the person’s connection to us… not really. This is the thing that brings us to our knees. This is the thing that keeps us up at night. This is one of the first moments that force us to see the ugly of the crucifixion before one limb of wood is cut, before one cock crows, before the first disciple scatters. It’s the act that forces our face to see the hurt that dampened cloths or sponges soaked in sour wine were never meant to fix. This is the hard truth… that betrayal can come at the hand of one who should know better. At the hands of those who tasted and saw the goodness first hand. It not only comes from those whom we loved, but even those that loved us too.
And yet, Jesus also shows us what it means to experience the devastation with eyes of grace. Maybe it would be easier to disown Judas. Not just for Jesus, but for Judas too. But instead Jesus acknowledges him as friend. He will not change what the connection was because it turned bad. He will not minimize the significance of him being among the twelve because Judas had forgotten. He would not forget the wedding feast, the miracles wrought, the laughter and chill in unguarded moments. No. This betrayal would change everything. Everything except the truth of what and who they had been to each other. Disciple and Teacher. Brother. Friend.
And maybe that is something we can learn as we move forward. That even when the betrayals we suffer, or even the betrayals we commit change the way forward in ways that seem impossible to overcome, the very least we can do, even if through clinched teeth, drawn swords, and possibly scattering support, is to see the truth of what things have been and who people have been for what it was. Questions and tears and heartache and all.