The sun weighed on them hot as their troop ventured back towards Bethany after an exhausting day in Jerusalem. The dust kicked up from the road as they walked back to the house of their host was unpleasant for the party’s treasurer as he lagged behind the others, estimating the funds by the weight of the moneybag he had strapped to the tie of his robe and the jingling of the coins as it swung. However, the sound of the money did not have the same calming effect on him as it so often did at other times when he would happily siphon a few off the top. The cold clinking of metal had long been a source of comfort to him, especially in the days when they were rejected, but now their lives were on the line again and the good master seemed to have lost sight of everything. The weight of the coins and their rhythmic sway was a stern reminder to him of that, because it should have been heavier.
“Judas! Why the long face?” a slap on the back from the burley fisherman tore him from his thoughts.
“Peter,” his eyes narrowed as he inspected his zealous companion. He was always making a fool out of himself, and this was no exception. He cared too much for the man in charge to see that he would lead them all into perdition. “As thrilling as it is to toss over tables and have ourselves under constant threat of arrest by the temple authorities, my mind keeps straying back to that dinner we had with Lazarus.”
“Oh, sure!” Peter smiled broadly. “That was great fun, wasn’t it? Man, I can still remember that lamb Martha cooked for us, and the smell of that perfume that Mary–”
“Wasted!” Judas stamped his foot down on the dust-covered road and planted it. Then he turned and grabbed onto Peter’s garment. Looking him full in the face, he said, “A bottle of pure nard, wasted on the master’s feet! How foolish! Do you realize how much that bottle could have sold for? How many poor and starving people we could have fed?”
“Well, I suppose–”
“This bag” – Judas grabbed the money pouch and shook it at Peter – “could have been made substantially heavier!”
“But Jesus said–”
There Peter was, going at it again. Would he never understand? Jesus had been talking to them about his death the whole trip, and the longer they spent hanging around in Jerusalem, the more likely it was to happen soon. Then what would become of them? They had left everything – their jobs, their homes, and now… for what? To be led to ruin by the likes of a man whom they once hoped would lead them on to their salvation? To be forever marked as outcasts from among their people and left alone, penniless in disgrace? When everything was said and done, well, Judas knew one thing – it wasn’t for him. Whatever Peter did was his own business.
Judas shook his head, indignant. “I know what he said, but I know, too, what is right! The entirety of this affair is being sorely mishandled, and I won’t be left holding the bag!”
Peter turned his palms out towards Judas. “Look, even if I die for this, it’s worth it to me. Judas, we had dinner with a guy who was dead. Let the Sadducees say there is no resurrection, but you and I know the truth. And where else can we go? Jesus has the words of eternal life, and I am prepared to follow him to the grave, if necessary.” He looked onward, down the path to the place where his master walked. Then he turned from Judas and went on after him.
Judas watched Peter as he hurried to make up the distance, and shook his head in disgust. The man was running headlong into total disaster, completely unaware. As much as a man like Peter may have believed that he had counted the cost of such fierce loyalty, Judas was himself much more inclined to take control of the situation and allow someone else to pay the price. Such blindness in following would have too great a cost.
Upon reaching Bethany, the band of disciples gathered together at the house of Simon the Leper, whom the Lord had healed of his disease. It was in great joy and thankfulness that Simon had invited them for a feast, which he threw on behalf of their master. There was fine food, merry company, and plenty of wine, just as they had enjoyed at the house of Lazarus some days prior. Judas was standing in the midst of the great multitude of guests when a woman walked by him carrying an alabaster jar. He could tell by the sweet scent that it was filled with fine perfume, and he was taken in by the beauty of the fragrance. His eyes followed the woman as she went to Jesus, who was seated, reclining at the table. Then, the unthinkable happened.
Judas watched wide-eyed in horror as the woman held the jar aloft and poured it over his master. From the locks of Jesus’ head, down upon his body, the perfume spilled out over him until he was covered and the room was filled with the beauty of its fragrance.
Judas was irate. How could it have happened again?
He slammed his drink down on the table. “Why this waste? This could have been sold for a great sum and given to the poor!”
Some of the other disciples murmured, lending their support to him, but Jesus would not hear it.
“Why do you trouble the woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. You will always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me. In pouring this ointment on my body, she has done it to prepare me for burial.” He paused and his eyes scanned the room. “Truly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will also be told in memory of her.”
The people hushed at his words, wondering, and whispers started up again about what might happen, but Judas only shook his head. He’d had quite enough of it. He was no longer interested in what might happen; from now on, he would be the one to make things happen. That way, he could not be taken by surprise. If Jesus was so determined to see his own death, then… he would be willing to help that along. Judas excused himself from the party and went straightway to see the chief priests, because he knew that they would help the master on his way, and it would be a quick way to recover some of his lost funds.
“What will you give me if I deliver him over to you?” he asked the men by moonlight, and they handed over to him thirty pieces of silver, – two months’ wages – which he found acceptable.
It wasn’t long after that Judas ate the Passover with Jesus, who sat him in the place of honor and said as they were eating, “One of you will betray me.”
A feeling of shock and horror plagued the apostles who were gathered there at the table, and they began to say to their master one after another, “Is it I, Lord?” each man gripped with sorrow.
But Judas only smirked when his time came, and thinking he might play along, he said, “Is it I, Rabbi?”
And Jesus said to him, “You have said so.”
Thus, Judas went out to those with whom he had conspired and gathered the men. Then he led them to the garden in the midst of darkness and night with the promise of a sign: “The one I will kiss is the man.”
And he went to Jesus, saying, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and kissed him.
“Do you betray me with a kiss?” Jesus watched him. “Do what you came to do, friend.”
Then came the men whom Judas led and seized his master to arrest him, and when morning came, the chief priests and the elders took counsel against Jesus to put him to death. Thus, they bound him and delivered him up to the governor.
But when Judas heard that Jesus was condemned to die, he could no longer bear the guilt. He rushed himself back again to the place where the chief priests and the elders were gathered.
“I have sinned by betraying innocent blood,” he confessed, overwhelmed by regret.
But they did not share in his remorse. “What is that to us?” they said. “See to it yourself.”
And Judas, despairing, threw the money down at their feet, casting it into the temple, and departed from them to hang himself… but Christ rose from the grave.
So, what was the waste? Was it truly the costly praise which was lavished upon our Lord, or was it the life of the man who could see no value in a life given over to God? It is with great joy that we who have poured out our lives unto God receive the hope of the promise of the resurrection.