Dear one,
Recently I was given the opportunity to ponder “Judas” from the sole perspective of Mark’s Gospel. Of course, the moment I write “Judas,” I need note nothing further, for we know who he is … or was. He’s the wolf in sheep’s garb; he’s the serpent lying camouflaged among the lilies. Judas.
This was not my first opportunity to ponder Judas and his deed, but I had never focused solely upon Mark’s retelling. In doing so, I observed that Mark three times made explicit reference to Judas: he is listed with the other disciples in Chapter 3; and in Chapter 14 he is described as going to the religious leaders (vs. 10-11), and then later as leading a crowd to arrest Jesus (vs.43-50). In these latter two moments, Mark identified Judas as “one of the Twelve,” and also as “the betrayer.”
Because of this dual-identity, I began to think in terms of the “Judas-question”: How is it possible that one of Jesus’ chosen betrayed Him? Moreover, I believe, Mark’s identifying Judas as “one of the Twelve” is a tacit admission that Judas was not the only one to betray Jesus. As Mark noted, “all of them deserted him and fled (14:50). Even lionhearted Peter capitulated.
How is it possible? This is exactly the question Shusaku Endo, famed and honored Japanese novelist of the mid-to-late twentieth century, a Christian, asked in his novel, Silence.[1] In his writings, Endo repeatedly asked, Why have we, the Japanese, resisted the Christian Gospel? In Silence he gave a partial answer: self-preservation. The novel is set in Japan in the 1600s, when the ruling shogunate sought to expunge foreign influences, particularly the Christian faith. Their method was simple and effective: annually a priest brought to every village a metal plaque, upon which was depicted the Virgin and her son. All that was required was for every member of the village to step on the plaque, one little step, and life would continue as it had. But if a person refused to step upon the plaque, thereby professing to be a Christian, then she/he would be subjected to a slow, torturous death. In Silence, Kichijiro, a convert and believer, consistently stepped upon the metal plaque, consistently knew guilt and shame, and in confession consistently sought the forgiveness of Christ.
In Mark's Gospel, if the Judas-question focuses specifically upon Judas and his motivation and/or eternal destination, then it becomes speculative. But if we recognize that all twelve deserted and thereby betrayed Jesus, if we can allow that church history as well as our own personal, faith journeys reflect betrayal—that in word and deed we have not spoken and acted in accord with Jesus’ commandment of love—then the Judas-question is not theoretical. Like Endo’s character, Kichijiro, do not many of us regularly confess and ask for forgiveness … for our betraying Him?
For Mark, Judas remained one of the Twelve, one of us. For Mark, the Judas-question moves us to the mystery of the Christian faith: forgiveness, the Creator forgiving His creation.
One of the twelve,
Stan
[1] In his movie adaptation of Silence, Martin Scorsese captured much of the horror of Endo’s question.