Sherry and I often get into a discussion about Judas, especially during Lent. Judas gets the bad rap. He's the bad seed. We ask the question amongst ourselves - "If not Judas, who?"
During the Maundy Thursday service, the sermon included this little tidbit that I'd never heard or considered before. In John's gospel, Jesus washes the feet of his disciples. All of them. Even Judas'. Read John 13:1-30 and see for yourself.
Then yesterday, during the Good Friday contemplative service, this poem by Ruth Etchells was read:
In Hell there grew a Judas Tree
Where Judas hanged and died
Because he could not bear to see
His master crucified.
Our Lord descended into Hell
And found his Judas there
For ever hanging on the tree
Grown from his own despair.
So Jesus cut his Judas down
And took him in his arms
“It was for this I came” he said
“And not to do you harm."
My Father gave me twelve good men
And all of them I kept
Though one betrayed and one denied
Some fled and others slept –
In three days’ time I must return
To make the others glad
But first I had to come to Hell
And share the death you had
My tree will grow in place of yours
Its roots lie here as well
There is no final victory
Without this soul from Hell”
So when we all condemned him
As of every traitor worst
Remember that of all his men
Our Lord forgave him first.
I was crying by the time the lector finished reading the poem. God, hung in shame and humiliation on a tree like a common criminal, removes Judas from his own tree in an act of supreme love.
Jesus, knowing that Judas will betray him, washes his feet anyway. The idea that Jesus releases Judas in hell and forgives him, even in death, is almost too much to comprehend.
Next year, when Sherry and I have our conversation about Judas, we won't ask "if not Judas, who?" Instead, we'll contemplate the incomprehensible love of a Savior who washes the feet of his soon-to-be betrayer and then rescues him from the grave of his own making.
It sounds like we may have more in common with Judas than we're comfortable with.
