One of the Twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot,
went to the chief priests and said,
"What are you willing to give me
if I hand him over to you?"
The chief priests wanted to put Jesus to death but on their own they were having trouble finding the right moment because they feared the crowds who regarded Jesus as a prophet. They instead preferred to intrude at some other time apart from the crowds, a time which was otherwise reserved for Jesus and his disciples. Judas, in his greed, knew he would be able to oblige, to sell the privilege of his intimacy with Jesus for thirty pieces of silver. He ultimately brought them to arrest Jesus under the cover of night and apart from the crowds in the garden of Gethsemane. Jesus was thus to become like a new Joseph, sold off by a brother for silver pieces. But like Joseph, Jesus might also have said, "you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good" (see Genesis 50:20).
What can we learn from the fact that even a disciple of Jesus, someone who was intimate with him, and like a brother to him, was willing to betray him? It is illustrative that even a disciple, even one who presumably started off good, was not guaranteed to persevere. It seems likely that for Judas it must have been a problem of expectations. Did he hope from the beginning for a kingdom of worldly wealth, just as the Sons of Zebedee hoped for a kingdom of worldly power, but, unlike them, fail to make the leap to a more spiritual way of thinking? Or did he at some point have a spiritual mindset, but gradually let his baser desires win out over that more spiritual hope until it was silent? Whatever the case may have been he decided at some point to get from Jesus what he could get rather than wait for what Jesus might eventually desire to give. After all, at that particular point in the story it didn't look like Jesus would be in much of a position to give anything. Our own risk is that in such dark nights when consolations are running low that we might take matters into our own hands to console ourselves. In this way we come to justify our sins as simply filling in the gaps left by the apparent lack of response by Jesus himself. This is especially so when to continue to stand with him does call us to fortitude, to act as we know we ought to act even when faced with pressure to do otherwise, such as the pressure to which all of the disciples at least momentarily succumbed.
And they all left him and fled (see Mark 14:50).
As we see the Passion of our Lord drawing near we must not merely calculate what is the greatest amount of value that we can attain for ourselves. We must instead look to continue with the Lord in the intimacy he desires to share with us, the intimacy that is perfectly displayed in the Passover when he transforms that meal into the Eucharist and gives us himself under the appearance of bread and wine. This call to intimacy tends to push on us in two directions at once. It chaffs against the worldly impulses in us. And this can drive our inner Judas to treachery if we let it. But it also draws that which is higher within us to union with Jesus himself. This is the gift that renders all darkness bearable, the hidden presence that gives luminous inner meaning to all things. We know that we do not always fully receive all the grace this gift is meant to convey. But let us prepare ourselves, and resolve ourselves now, to be open to all that the Lord wants to do in our hearts during the Triduum. If we do so we too can share the confidence of the suffering servant spoken of by Isaiah.
He is near who upholds my right;
if anyone wishes to oppose me,
let us appear together.
Who disputes my right?
Let him confront me.
See, the Lord GOD is my help;
who will prove me wrong?
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