Loving Judas [Maundy Thursday]

The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Loving Judas

As far as dinner parties go: this one was kind of a mess. Although in fairness, really any party in which one of the guests leaves early to plot the host's murder could fairly, I think, be considered something of a disaster.

It is difficult to know exactly on whom to place the blame. I mean, Judas is the obvious choice. His evil scheming not only ruined the Passover meal Jesus shared with his disciples, but also brought an end to Jesus' life. He is clearly the villain in this passion story. But it is also important to remember that it was Jesus who invited him to the party.

It is impossible to know how their relationship began, but we know Jesus chose Judas to be one of his closest followers, one of his inner circle. Which I think reminds us that no one is all bad or pure evil. Life is complex and so are people. And until things fell to pieces, Judas followed Jesus as one of his twelve disciples. He witnessed the miracles; he listened as Jesus preached sermons and shared parables.

But something broke in him. Maybe Jesus was not living up to his expectations. Maybe Jesus wasn't turning out to be the kind of King for which Judas hoped. Maybe he just wanted or needed the money. But something happened. And according to John's Gospel, by the time Jesus gathered with his twelve for what would be their Last Supper, Jesus knew how the week would end. And he knew that Judas had turned.

And in what is perhaps one of the most curious details of this story, even though he knew, Jesus invited Judas to the party anyway. Not only that, but Judas stuck around long enough to participate in these intimate moments Jesus shared with the disciples he loved so dearly.

During their supper, Jesus stood, and in what I assume was a pretty unexpected moment, starts to disrobe. Then he wraps himself in a towel. And then fills a basin with water. The disciples must be pretty curious at this point. The props would suggest foot washing but that was a task reserved for the servant at the bottom of the food chain. Jesus was not that; Jesus was their master, their Lord. That he would wash their feet was impossible.

But that is exactly what he was doing. He knelt naked before them. Vulnerable – stripped of not only his clothing but of his power and position. And one of the disciples is Judas: the one who will later leave to sell out Jesus for a satchel of silver. Going around the table, Jesus comes to Judas, and with his hands he takes Judas' feet and holds them in the water, caresses the dirty away, and takes the towel around his waist and gently wipes them dry – just as he did for the other eleven.

After washing the disciples' feet, Jesus dresses and returns to the table, to host the meal. And there, he takes the bread, and says to the twelve, “This is my body, and it is for you.” He takes the cup and says, “This is my blood.” And he feeds them with his own body and his own blood; he gave himself to them – a full, perfect, and sufficient offering.

He entrusted himself to their hands and to their mouths. Completely vulnerable – stripped of control. And one of those who took the bread was Judas: the one who conspired with those who would break Jesus' body and spill Jesus' blood. And Jesus knew that. And yet, he still fed him, still offered himself to his betrayer.

Jesus included Judas in every intimate moment of that night. He washed his feet. He offered his body and his blood as a feast to be consumed. And in the dark night of the garden, Jesus allowed Judas to greet him with a kiss.

And how dare he?! How dare Judas even show up for that dinner party? How dare he remove his sandals and allow Jesus to wash his feet? How dare he open his hands to receive and eat Jesus' precious body and drink Jesus' precious blood? And how dare he come so near and kiss his face?

That's my reaction. That's what I think: how dare he? But Jesus invited him. And Jesus took his feet in his hands. And Jesus offered him the body and blood. And Jesus allowed Judas to give him that poison kiss.

Having loved his own, he loved them to the end. And, though I can't make sense of it, Judas was one of his own.

The mandate Jesus gives his followers, the mandate he gives to us, is that we should love one another as Jesus loves us. It is the most difficult commandment Jesus asks of us. It is more difficult than giving ten percent of our money; it is more difficult than proclaiming the coming Kingdom. It is more difficult than loving our neighbors as ourselves. It is so difficult because Jesus loves us with an unconditional love from which nothing in all creation can separate us.

And if we did not think it was hard to love others, the example Jesus offers us in this Gospel is the love he showed Judas on the night Judas betrayed him.

True love goes far beyond what is easy to what is impossible. And yet this is how the world will know we are Christians, this is our most convincing witness: they will know we are Christians by our impossible love.