Hilton Head Island, SC – March 14, 2021
The Chapel Without Walls
Luke 6:12-16; John 13:21-30
A Sermon by John M. Miller
Text – Then after the morsel, Satan entered into him. Jesus said, “What you are going to do, do quickly.” – John 13:27 (RSV)
The twelve disciples of Jesus were a decidedly peculiar bunch. He had four commercial fishermen, a tax collector, a man who is identified only as “an Israelite without guile” – Nathaniel – and he is included only in John and in none of the other Gospels - and at least one and perhaps two political radicals. We aren’t even told anything about the other disciples.
Jesus had two disciples named Simon. The so-called Prince of Apostles was Simon Peter, but the other one is called “Simon the Cananaean” in Matthew and Mark, and “Simon the zealot” in Luke. Why there should be that latter discrepancy no one knows.
Who were “the zealots?” They were a group of violent Jewish nationalists who vehemently opposed the Roman occupation. They were responsible for a major insurrection against the Romans from 68-72 CE and again from 132-135 CE. Neither revolt was successful, and both resulted in thousands of Jews being killed or driven permanently out of their homeland. They hoped they would throw off the Roman yoke, but they disastrously miscalculated.
There are many biblical scholars who claim that another of Jesus’ disciples besides Simon the zealot may also have been a zealot. He is the man always named last in the list of disciples, and always with a statement such as this, “and Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Jesus.”
How could anybody think Judas might be a zealot on the basis of the word “Iscariot?” Is it a name, and if not, what does it mean? The scholars give two suggestions for the derivation of that term. In Hebrew the word for “man” (male) is ish. There was a village not far from Bethlehem in southern Judea that was called Keriot. Thus technically Judas could have been called Yudah Ish-Keriot: Judas, Man of Keriot. In that case, Judas would have been the only southerner among the disciples, all of whom were Galileans from the north. Back then, northerners generally weren’t fond of southerners, nor were southerners particularly fond of northerners. That is somewhat true in the United States of America, whether in the year 1861 or 2021. As we have often heard in these parts, a Yankee is someone from up north, and a damn Yankee is someone from up north who moved south and stayed here. But that northern-southern skepticism may explain why none of the disciples and only Jesus was at all positive toward Judas.
But there is another possibility for the word or the nomenclature “Iscariot.” There was a short Roman sword called in Latin the sicari. Jewish zealots typically also armed themselves with a sicari, because it was easily hidden beneath their long robes. If they found a Roman soldier on a lonely road or in a dark corner, they could come up behind him, quickly draw their sword, and swiftly dispatch the hated foreigner. Thus Judas may have been Yudah Ish-Sicari.
One of the disciples of Jesus is clearly identified in Luke’s Gospel as a zealot, while in Matthew and Mark he is Simon the Cananaean. Perhaps the Cananaeans were a particular group of zealots; no one seems to be sure about that. But the supposition that Judas also may have been a zealot seems to be a feasible possibility. That seems especially plausible given the background John provides us in his account of the Last Supper.
The Fourth Gospel has by far the longest summary of Jesus’ final meal with the twelve disciples in the upper room. It runs from the beginning of Chapter 13 through the end of Chapter 17, five full chapters of narrative about that pivotal and memorable occasion. Nearly all of it consists of a monologue which Jesus himself spoke. None of the three Synoptic Gospels provides even a full chapter in describing the Last Supper. Nevertheless, in all four Gospels Jesus cryptically says that one of the twelve will betray him, but he never says who it will be by name.
In John, however, it says that one of the twelve was seated close to Jesus. Tradition says that it was the disciple named John, and tradition also says he was the man who wrote the Fourth Gospel, although nearly every contemporary New Testament scholar denies that. Anyway, the disciple quietly asked Jesus who would be the traitor. Jesus furtively told him, “It is he whom I shall give this morsel when I have dipped it.” Then he took a piece of bread or meat, dipped it in the dish, and gave it to Judas. Then Jesus told Judas, “What you are going to do, do quickly.” And with that, Judas got up and left, going to the Roman garrison, later leading the soldiers to the Garden of Gethsemane, where he knew Jesus would go following the meal in the upper room.
One of the many interesting unique features from the Fourth Gospel is that Jesus continued speaking for four chapters after that. In the Synoptics Judas apparently left the upper room with everyone else and then dropped off somewhere on the way to Gethsemane to alert the Roman soldiers. In the first three Gospels Judas was there almost to the very end, and in John Jesus dismissed him, seemingly because he didn’t want Judas to hear the important things he yet had to say. But if that was what Jesus intended, it doesn’t clearly say he intended it.
In recent decades, an important claim has been made about Judas. Whether or not he was a zealot, this theory states, he was trying to force Jesus’ hand powerfully to overthrow Rome in a glorious display of revolution against Rome. Judas believed Jesus could do that, and he wanted to force his hand. Or might he have been trying to hasten what he believed was the imminent end of the world? After all, Jesus had referred to that possibility several times. Or was it only thirty pieces of sordid silver that prompted Judas to turn Jesus over to the Romans? Whatever was the actual origin of Judas’ incomprehensible betrayal, Matthew says Judas was overwhelmed by remorse afterward, and he hanged himself from being so completely ashamed by what he had done.
Peculiar Treasures is the title of one of Frederick Buechner’s many books. It gives very short biographies of many of the characters in the Bible, and its subtitle is A Biblical Who’s Who. He says this about Judas: “There is a tradition in the early church…that (Judas’) suicide was based not on despair but on hope. If God was just, then Judas knew there was no question where he’d be headed once he had breathed his last. Furthermore, if God was also merciful, he knew there was no question either that in a last-ditch effort to save the souls of the damned as God’s son, Jesus would go down there too.” (Hell is where Judas presumably ended up.) There is one cryptic verse in the New Testament which suggests that Jesus did exactly that; after the crucifixion, and before the resurrection, he went to hell to rescue lost souls, but this is given nothing more than a mere mention. The verse is alluded to in the Apostles Creed, where it says of Jesus that “he descended into hell.” Some traditions which use the Apostles Creed are so skeptical of it that they omit that phrase when they say the creed. In The Chapel Without Walls we so assiduously try to include everybody and to offend nobody that we don’t even say the creed, noble souls that we are.
In moments of radical emotion, we may see things much differently than when we are in quiet contemplation of monumental events. John Adams was a brilliant, vain, mercurial, obnoxious and irreplaceable patriot without whom the Declaration of Independence almost certainly would never have been adopted. In his biography of our second president, David McCullough recalls the towering emotional experience Adams had in his first meeting with King George III after Adams was appointed the first American ambassador to Britain. McCullough quotes Adams’ recollection of what he said to the king in the historic meeting. “I shall consider my self the happiest of men if I can be instrumental in recommending my country more and more to Your Majesty’s royal benevolence and of restoring an entire esteem, confidence, and affection…between people who…have the same language, a similar religion, and kindred blood” (John Adams, p. 336).
Why would Jesus choose Judas Iscariot as a disciple, a man who was as hot-headed and thin-skinned as John Adams, whether or not Judas was actually a Jewish zealot? And why would he choose someone who was clearly identified as Simon the zealot? Did he have no awareness of how potentially dangerous those associations would be to his own purpose and cause?
Jesus chose Judas and Simon precisely because of who he knew them to be! He didn’t make a mistake; they were very conscious decisions. By these and many other similar associations, Jesus wanted to illustrate that no one would ever be outside his spiritual circle. Everyone was in; no one was out. Even though he frequently locked horns with and gave the Pharisees and Sadducees holy what-for, one of the first men with whom Jesus had a lengthy conversation in his first weeks of ministry was the Pharisee Nicodemus (John 3). At the end of the Gospel it was Nicodemus who came to anoint Jesus’ body for burial after the crucifixion. Jesus did not agree with everybody, but he welcomed everybody. He was the most supremely inclusionary religious figure in the entire Bible, indeed, in all of human history. No one can ever be outside the care and concern of Jesus of Nazareth; no one!
Jesus was more interested in establishing a broadly-based movement that included many kinds of people than he was in a tightly-knit clique of people who were unwavering loyalists to everything he said and did. When he had only three years to collect and to try to shape these people, he was sure they would eventually head off in all directions of the compass as well as the theological spectrum when he was gone. Without question, they did.
Dwight D. Eisenhower once said, “What is important is seldom urgent, and what is urgent is seldom important.” What was important for the first-century Jesus Movement to become a reality was for Jesus to enlist as many types of followers as possible in as short a time as possible. If he spent too much time deciding who would fit in well and who wouldn’t, he would never complete his divinely-appointed task. He especially wanted to include people whom other people of more persnickety persuasions would deliberately ignore, people such as the mentally ill, tax collectors, prostitutes, political radicals, and adulterers. If he deliberately and visibly spent time with such people, he would make it obvious that he was willing to spend time with anyone. He was ecumenically inclusive, even if it turned out that many of his followers were not.
Jesus was remarkably tolerant of everyone. He might give everyone what-for, but he was always willing to give people as many chances as they needed to get on board his Gospel train.
Bruce Springsteen has a song called This Train. Here is a part of its lyrics:
This train carries saints and sinners
This train carries losers and winners
This train carries whores and gamblers
This train carries lost souls
I said, this train, dreams will not be thwarted
This train, faith will be rewarded
I said, this train carries broken-hearted
This train, thieves and sweet souls departed
This train carries fools and kings thrown
This train, all aboard.
… The Jesus train is leaving. Don’t miss it. You’ll be in for an amazing ride!