Is the president stepping down?

No, not that president, obviously, but the president of our congregation.  I hope I gave many of you a scare on Sunday when I told you that our congregational president, Glenn Loewen, would be stepping down, and that we'd draw names out of a hat to take his place.  Of course, he isn't stepping down, but can you imagine?  And can you imagine if I'd gone one step further, and told you that Glenn Loewen had fallen headlong into a field and burst asunder. (warning:  Graphic content).  Now, imagine that Mr. Loewen had fallen headlong into a field, and we had to choose someone else to replace him.  On the spot.  Imagine that!

The guy's such a baseball pro he uses three bats!

Well, fortunately, not happening.  But that's the situation that the disciples were facing.  Yes yes, it's easy for us to, with perfect hindsight, look back and say that of course Judas would betray the son of man.  It's in his name.  But that's about as sensible as saying that Lou Gehrig should have known that he was going to die of Lou Gehrig's disease.  Simple enough for those of us who have come along since, but mind-blowing for the people who saw it happen.

We're used to the idea that Judas would be the betrayer, so used to it now, that it seems amazing that they'd let him into the group of disciples to begin with.  It should come as no surprise that the name Judas has become completely conflated with the very definition of a traitor.  It obviously wasn't back then, though.  I find it funny that people think that "Judas" in the scriptures was an anti-semitic fabrication designed to blame first-century Jews for everything, and to demonize them when:
a) all of the disciples were first-century Jews, and
b) if you'd payed attention to the reading from Sunday, you'd realize that in Acts 1:13, it mentions a "Judas, the son of James" who was perfectly faithful.  So there.

Anyway, we are used to the idea of Judas being the traitor, but we shouldn't be.  And we shouldn't be, precisely because his ideas apart from the whole betrayal of Jesus thing, weren't too foreign from our ideas.  Remember the bit where Judas is bent out of shape about how the perfume is being used?

12 Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to 

Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised 

from the dead. ² Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. 

Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining 

at the table with him. ³ Then Mary took about a pint

of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet 

and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

⁴ But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was 

later to betray him, objected, ⁵ “Why wasn’t this perfume 

sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages.”

 ⁶ He did not say this because he cared about the poor but 

because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to

 help himself to what was put into it.

⁷ “Leave her alone,” Jesus replied. “It was intended that she 

should save this perfume for the day of my burial. 

⁸ You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.”

John 12: 1-8

What is Judas saying that is so incendiary?  That expensive things that the church possesses should be sold and the proceeds given to the poor?  How reactionary!  Of course, this same conversation is being played out about a thousand times a day all over the world.  People everywhere are saying 'why doesn't the church, if it cares about the poor, sell all the buildings it has, sell the robes, sell the ornate fixtures, and give all that money to the poor?'  Why indeed.  An awful lot of people are saying that exact same thing right now, and we don't refer to them as traitors.  Ignore, for a moment, the narrator's comment about how Judas was a thief, and all of a sudden, his idea doesn't seem so strange, does it?  Instead of anointing Jesus, why not sell the perfume and give the proceeds to the poor?  

Well, it's easy for us, in hindsight, knowing everything there is to know, to say 'of course Judas would say that.  He was a thief, and a lover of money!'  Yes yes yes.  But we forget the most important thing that everyone involved in the passion forgot too.

a) Judas forgot that the disciples were all traitors, too.  And

b) the disciples forgot that the disciples were all traitors too.

Looking back on things, it's easy for us to point the finger at Judas and say 'for shame, Judas."  But the disciples just thought he was a regular guy.  And when the time came for the betrayal to happen, they were shocked, stunned, and betrayed.  They thought that nobody close to them, in that inner circle could possibly be a traitor.   And Judas thought the same thing. Thus, the suicide.  Thus the death in the field of blood, because he thought that he was the only one, and was therefore beyond forgiveness.  But what we contemplate, with the benefit of hindsight, is that the disciples were all a bunch of goofs.  They were all a collection of screwups.  They, like we, looked at Judas and tut-tutted at him.  As one does.  And Judas looked at himself, as compared with the rest of the disciples, and tut-tutted himself to death.

But part of Christianity, in addition to judging others, is the evaluation of the self. And once you've done that, then you may just realize that you're not as great as you could be.  But don't worry about that.  You're the same as everyone else.  It's easy to feel as though you're the only pretender in the pew, you're the only one who has a messed up life, and everyone else has it all together, but guess what:  If they had it all together, they wouldn't be in church.  If even the disciples, those closest to Jesus, were cowards and traitors and liars, what makes you think that those in the pew with you on Sunday morning aren't the same? You're a sinner.  And so are they.  You're all a bit of a mess. You all need Jesus.  That's why you're in church.  What drove Judas to despair, and the Christians of today to judgment over him, is that both sides forgot that they were sinners too, no better and no worse than the other.  If you're worried about someone's sin, have it be your own first.