Mt 21:1-11, 26:14-16

24 March 2002

Palm Sunday

 

“Judas Would Help Jesus”

 

            Most of you know that Banu and I like to watch movies.  Our tastes do have some areas of overlap, and among them are horror movies.  Although, I can’t really say that movies actually frighten me—that is, if something is fiction.  I imagine I’m like some of you who are more horrified at the dreadful things people do to each other that get captured on videotape.

            Still, having said that, there is one movie, a relatively recent release, that comes as close to scaring me as any film I’ve seen:  “Final Destination.”  For those unfamiliar with that one, which came out in 2000, here’s the basic storyline.  A high school French class is preparing to take a trip to France.  As they arrive at the airport, one of the students, Alex, is getting increasingly nervous.  In fact, he’s been seeing all kinds of stuff as omens of disaster.  The music of John Denver being played over the speakers in the restroom prompts him to recall that the singer died in a plane crash.

            But what really freaks him out is a dream he has upon boarding the plane and falling asleep.  In vivid detail, he sees the airplane being ripped apart and exploding in mid-air.  When he wakes up shouting that the plane is going to crash, you can imagine the reaction of the flight crew.  Understand, this was before the terrorist attacks of September 11, but even then, yelling such a thing would be enough to get you in trouble!

            What happens is that Alex and some of his classmates get kicked off the plane.  So while they’re forced to wait for a later flight, all their friends take off for France.  However, just as Alex predicted, the airplane explodes.  Things look pretty suspicious, and the FBI gets involved.

            What Alex concludes is that he and the others who missed the flight have cheated death.  But they aren’t home free.  After an encounter with a strange mortician played by Tony Todd, he realizes that death has a pattern that he interrupted.  Alex has only delayed the inevitable.  Death is still coming for them.  Their final destination still awaits!

            I’ll stop there.  What keeps you on edge throughout the movie is the very real suspense—the knowledge that they’re still going to get theirs!  And it could come at any moment, in the most ordinary of situations.  It says a lot about how fragile our lives really are!

            You may wonder what in the world this has to do with Palm Sunday.  At first glance, probably nothing.  But when we stop and look at what’s going on behind the scenes, so to speak, we see that these issues of life and death come very much into play.

            Can we really afford to overlook the tension in the air on Palm Sunday?  Sure, on the surface, it looks like Jesus is surrounded by throngs of admirers.  His entry into Jerusalem has often been compared to the return of a victorious military commander.  Hail the conquering hero!  I think a more apt comparison for our day would require viewing the adoring crowds in another way.  They remind me, at least, of the mobs that cluster around certain rock stars.  Can we ignore the fickleness of the mob that loves Jesus today and will very soon not give a…fig what happens to him?

            But hey, let’s not ruin the party!  At this point in his life, Jesus has achieved a certain…celebrity.  With the crowd gathering, some people are wondering, “Who is this?”—to which those who are in the know reply, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee” (vv. 10-11).

            Still, the scripture tells us, “When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil” (v. 10).  This would make a great movie.  There’s foreshadowing all over the place.  Remember, Jesus has been warned about even showing his face in Jerusalem.  He knows that the religious leaders are very unhappy with him.  Jesus has even been reminding his own disciples about the dangers that lie ahead—that death awaits him, even though they don’t want to believe it.  His hour is about to come.

            However, just as in “Final Destination,” Jesus seems to have cheated death.  He’s apparently done it more than once.  I’ll mention just two examples.  First, there’s the incident near the beginning of his ministry at the synagogue in Nazareth.  Following a sermon, in which he says that the prophets Elijah and Elisha were received by foreigners, the congregants are very displeased.  Luke tells us that they “were filled with rage” and intended to “hurl him off the cliff.  But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way” (Lk 4:28-30).  Somehow Jesus avoids their unfriendly clutches and being flung to his death.

            Another example of Jesus cheating death is given in John’s gospel.  He’s in the temple, arguing with some Jewish leaders about what it means to be a child of Abraham.  It’s when Jesus apparently utters blasphemy that things get really ugly.  “Very truly, I tell you,” he says, “before Abraham was, I am” (Jn 8:58).  That phrase, “I am,” is a little too close to the divine “I am who I am” that was revealed to Moses at the burning bush (Ex 3:14).  His listeners realize that Jesus is claiming the name of God for himself.  As a result, determined to enforce the penalty for blasphemy, “they picked up stones to throw at him, but Jesus hid himself and went out of the temple” (v. 59).  He again dodges death.

            Now, to ask a question raised by the movie (not to mention, by many people in general):  does death have a pattern?  And if so, does Jesus interrupt this pattern?  Does he sense this pattern?  Is that what’s in the background when he says things like, “My hour has not yet come”? (Jn 2:4).

            This sounds like a good argument for predestination.  But we also know that we have free will.  So to take it a step further, if death has a pattern, does it also require free will?  And is this where Judas enters the picture?  And if that’s true…maybe I’ll stop with the questions right there, before our heads explode!

            It seems that the gospel writers want us to sense the tension of not only Palm Sunday, but of all that we now call Holy Week.  There’s a disproportionate amount of space devoted in all four gospels to the events of that final week in Jesus’ life.  And lingering in the shadows, as it were, is the disciple known as Judas Iscariot.

            The passage I read from Matthew 26, in which Judas makes his proposal to the chief priests, comes a couple of days after Palm Sunday.  But we’re not yet at Maundy Thursday—we’re not yet at the Last Supper, when Jesus will share one last moment of intimate friendship with the Twelve.

            One of the great mysteries, one of the great puzzles that has troubled Christians throughout the centuries is the question:  why does Judas do it?  Why does he betray Jesus?  It’s a problem that haunts us, because it deals with possibly the ugliest aspect of human nature—the temptation to break faith, to so to speak, stab someone (indeed, a friend) in the back.

            The simplest explanation is that Judas is just evil; he’s just bad to the bone.  Some have even noticed how he gradually becomes demonized as the gospels are written.[1]  The earliest gospels, Mark and Matthew, place his meeting with the chief priests after an apparent falling out with Jesus.  If you recall, a woman anoints the feet of Jesus with expensive perfume, and some of the disciples object.  That prompts him to reprimand them, which would then prompt Judas to make his decision.  The later gospels, Luke and John, don’t leave him this excuse.  Luke explains his behavior by saying, “Satan entered into Judas” (22:3); John says that “the devil had already put it into the heart of Judas” (13:2).

            I won’t deny that Judas, and sometimes people in general, display Satanic behavior.  But we humans are complex creatures.  Our motives can rarely be narrowed down to just one or two factors.  I think the same is true of Judas.

            Perhaps taking their cues from Mark and Matthew, many have said that Judas is motivated by more than mere greed.  In his mind, he’s doing the right thing.  Judas doesn’t like the direction Jesus is taking them.  In the past, Jesus has had chances to give the people what they’ve wanted, what they’ve longed for—a king who will deliver them from the hated Romans.  And on the day of his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, he has a golden opportunity to get things going.  But he blows it!  Palm Sunday comes and goes…and Jesus fails to seize the moment!

            I tend to agree with those who believe that Judas is disillusioned.  His desire to rid his country of foreign rule leads him to desperate action.  Maybe he can force Jesus into action when his teacher’s enemies move in on him.  Maybe Judas will be able to get Jesus to assert his proper authority.  As we know by his grief after the fate of Jesus is sealed, Judas doesn’t want Jesus to be killed.  Judas would help Jesus.  Some have even seen Judas as a tragic hero.  In the movie “Final Destination,” Alex feels that he’s been thrust into a situation he didn’t want, where life and death intersect.  Could it be that Judas feels the same way?

            Often the imagination of a poet helps to visualize various possibilities.  The Lebanese writer Kahlil Gibran put these words in the mouth of Judas:[2]

 

            When first [Jesus] called us to Him He promised us a kingdom mighty and vast, and in our faith we sought His favor that we might have honorable stations in His court.

            We beheld ourselves princes dealing with these Romans as they have dealt with us.  And Jesus said much about His kingdom, and I thought He had chosen me a captain of His chariots, and a chief man of His warriors.  And I followed His footsteps willingly.

            But I found it was not a kingdom that Jesus sought, nor was it from the Romans He would have had us free.  His kingdom was but the kingdom of the heart.  I heard Him talk of love and charity and forgiveness, and the wayside women listened gladly, but my heart grew bitter and I was hardened.

            My promised king of Judea seemed suddenly to have turned flute-player, to soothe the mind of wanderers and vagabonds.

 

            There’s one vision of Judas.  I wonder; do we see Judas in ourselves?  That could be Judas the betrayer, Judas the impatient, Judas the misunderstood, Judas the deceived.  Can we sense in the turmoil—in the tension—of Palm Sunday the feelings of Judas, who sees his dreams dissolving before his eyes?  Can we sense in him a man who believes he understands the pattern of death and life and compels Jesus to walk that path, for his own good?  Is Judas caught up in something even he doesn’t understand, some cosmic game of chess?

            Craig Barnes, pastor of National Presbyterian Church in Washington, DC, has reflected on our feelings toward Judas.[3]  He asks, are we “afraid there is some Judas chromosome within all of us? … The sin that is most difficult to forgive in others is always the one we struggle against in our own lives,” says Barnes.  I’ve heard that stated many times, though I’m not sure how much I agree with it.  In any event, he goes on:  “This is particularly true if we have lied to ourselves about our trustworthiness so often that we no longer think we have a dark side.  None is as merciless to others as the one who has no mercy on [one’s] own capacity for evil.”

            Who can say what set of circumstances would create Judas?  Jesus said, “The Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that one by whom the Son of Man is betrayed!” (Mt 26:24).  When I was young, my mom shared some words of wisdom with me:  “But for the grace of God, there go I.”  My point is—both life and death consist of a pattern and a choice.

            Whether it’s Judas conspiring with the chief priests, or Peter denying that he even knows Jesus, no disciple is above betrayal.  That goes for the disciples here today.  Unlike Judas, Peter returned to Jesus and was restored.  May God grant us the grace, when we betray our Lord (as we do more often than we think), to return and be restored.  May we welcome all those out there who need to do the same.


 


[1] www.mathpages.com/home/kmath224/kmath224.htm

[2] Kahlil Gibran, Jesus:  The Son of Man (New York:  Alfred A. Knopf, 1991), 174-175.

[3] Craig Barnes, “The Judas chromosome,” Christian Century 119:5 (27 Feb-6 Mar 2002):  21.

 

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