poor judas

Today is Easter in the Orthodox Church of Cyprus.  Though I didn’t attend the Easter service this year, it is one of my favorites.  The Orthodox acknowledge Christ’s resurrection at exactly midnight.  In the village services I’ve attended in the past, the lights in the church were turned out and there was a hush over the congregation a few minutes before midnight. There was a real anticipation and expectancy.  At midnight the priest announced that Christ is risen and a candle was lit.  The flame passed from person to person (each holding a candle) slowly flooding the church with light. It’s a beautiful worship experience.

Following the service there is a tradition of burning an effigy of Judas on a large bonfire.  The practice (done in a number of Catholic and Orthodox countries) has come under international criticism as being anti-semetic as in the past it was occasionally accompanied by acts of aggression against Jewish communities. In 2005 the practice was discouraged in an article by the spokesperson for the Greek Orthodox Church which stated, ‘this is a tradition alien to the Church that foments religious hatred and fanaticism against the Jews.’

I’ve not experienced that sentiment in Cyprus, though I do think the tradition reflects poor theology.  Jesus died for Judas as he did for everyone else.  There’s no need for us to punish Judas because Jesus already suffered the punishment for him.

What is it that makes us want to find a Judas to blame for our actions? What makes us want to punish him? To present ourselves as more righteous?  There’s some of this in all of us.  In his book The Gospel According to Judas, Ray Anderson (my theology professor at Fuller) writes,

The devil is always someone else, no matter how fearful we are of our own demonic impulses.  The sweetest gossip among pastors and church members is always the story that hints at another person’s sexual improprieties.  The momentary relief that comes when the focus is turned to the scandal in the other’s life betrays our own need of a Judas…  Because we carry within ourselves the terrible possibility of betrayal in every relationship where there is love and trust, we have little mercy toward those who act out this betrayal.  The sin most difficult to forgive in others is the one we live with and struggle against in our own hearts.  This is especially the case when we have succeeded in denying those deep impulses of betrayal and are no longer in touch with the dark side of ourselves. What feels like righteous judgment in urging condemnation of others who have been caught in betrayal, may in fact be a blind and desperate need to reinforce the denial of our own propensity toward the same problem.

Christ died and rose again for the Judas in all of us.  All of us make choices that fill us with shame and alienate us in our hearts from the communities we wish to belong to.  We can hide or deny our sin (as Ananias and Sapphira did), we can punish ourselves (as Judas did), we can exclude others (as the Pharisees did), or we can confess our sin and receive forgiveness (as Peter did).

O Christos anesti! Alithos anesti!