Luke 22:1-6 especially verse 3.
Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot who was of the number of the twelve.
Poor Judas--weak and broken vessel--most cracked in an assemblage of broken crockery. Even among those closest to the savior, Satan seemed to have his own way. Peter and Judas that we know of, James and John in the Garden, and who knows what we have not heard in the Gospel stories. But Judas worst off of all. Dante has him with Cassius and Brutus occupying the three mouths of Satan, Judas eternally head-in.
And I am so like him. My price is so low. Would I betray Christ for thirty silver pieces? A ridiculous question both in mood and tense. The answer is I have betrayed Him for far less that that. When I speak harshly to someone because my own pride is wounded, is that worth 30 silver pieces? When I ignore the plight of the poor, when I eat more than I need to live, when I lie and cheat to gain my own paltry ends, when I commit any of the hundred or thousand greater or lesser infractions of the day--am I not also rejecting the love of One who wishes more than anything for me to see what Love is? No, I am less that Judas, less than the traitor who surrendered the Lord. Driven by greed, disapppointment, confusion, and who knows what other motives--he at least once loved and listened to the Lord. And the despair of his terrible death suggests that at least he truly regretted the terrible thing he had done. More often than not, I do not regret. It takes enormous work and thought to bring me to a single moment of contrition. God has to work overtime on my hardened heart to move it a single beat closer to His own.
betrayer of the Lord--
and yet I am less than the dirt
beneath his feet!
Would I ever have chosen to serve
the peripatetic Lord?
This perambulating savior?
If you, poor Judas, are in a place to do so,
please pray for me that I avoid
future instances of our terrible crime.