What I Can Learn from Judas

Judas was a disappointed follower of Jesus. Jesus did not do what he had pinned his hopes on him doing. He wasn't a casual disciple, but a zealot for the restoration of his oppressed nation; to some he would have been a hero. He no doubt was one of Jesus' tight gang, doing crazy miracles, getting his mind blown by his proximity to Someone with massive stage presence. But I think Judas ultimately required the exchanges of power that show tangible advancement; perhaps this is why he took money from the poor box, and why in his frustration he sold Jesus for gold. It was too much for him to wait for a kingdom that seems to work ploddingly and frustratingly through inglorious moments of mercy among the least remarkable in the crowd. Not how he wanted to spend his valuable life. What cuts close to home is the narrow place between passionate hope and passionate bitterness. The more deeply I care and invest, the more vindictive I can become. Only one of the Twelve could betray with a kiss. This is all the more reason to practice examining if I am following Jesus for who he is or Jesus for who I want him to be.

Love Through the End

"Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved. And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come." Jesus in Matthew 24

There is a context for the evil we live in; there was a beginning and an end is approaching. With each horrific event, we are driven to sear our hearts in either fear or bitterness until, as Jesus prophesied, love grows cold. That is the end game of evil, in all its devices of killing, stealing and destroying. If we lose our love, no amount of gun control will be enough to save us. So, strengthen one another in love that endures all things. Mourn with those who mourn. Keep doing good. Love our enemies, and live like people watching for the ending, holding out for home.

"No power of hell, no scheme of man, can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home, Here in the power of Christ I'll stand." (Sung beautifully by Christina Grimmie, the young woman who was killed last week and who is, nonetheless, one saved by Love)

To what do I answer?

All idolatry is slavery, because to be kept by anything less than God is to be diminished. Wise and majestic elephants jingling bells for ringmasters. Lions pacing against the glass. Captive beauty is prostitution. In my aunt’s family, typical local Chinese, the daughters weren’t called by name, but by number. My dear aunt answers to “A-sup” or “Suppie” — Number Ten. While culturally common for that generation, what an illustration of diminishment. To be counted but not named. Collected.

To be named is to be distinguished, expressed as a unique value and glory. How different God’s kingdom is; the scriptures have constant promises of our names. Jesus is forever giving his people names, even affectionate nicknames like the "Sons of Thunder" (in my mind akin to "you wascally wabbits!"). After his resurrection in the garden, he says, “Mary!” and only then she recognized him. Just prior to Peter’s trial of testing, Jesus speaks with compassion and urgency, “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift each of you like wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith will not fail…” Talk about Jesus imparting personal value and belief in an individual. Our captors never do that.