Judas Better May 2026

We’ve all sold something precious for something worthless. We’ve all greeted a loved one with a kiss while our heart was far away. We’ve all tried to force God into our political agenda. Judas is the patron saint of the disappointed disciple—the one who followed Jesus for two years, then decided that the Messiah wasn't moving fast enough or acting tough enough.

But what if we’ve been reading him wrong? What if, buried beneath the thirty pieces of silver, there is a story far more tragic, and far more unsettling, than simple greed? We’ve all sold something precious for something worthless

We know his name as shorthand for treachery. To call someone a "Judas" is the ultimate insult—a kiss that kills, a friend who sells you out for pocket change. For two thousand years, Judas Iscariot has been the villain of the Passion narrative, the necessary foil to Jesus’s divine innocence. Judas is the patron saint of the disappointed

Many scholars believe Judas may have been a sicarius (a dagger-wielding Zealot) who wanted a political Messiah. He wanted Jesus to overthrow Rome. But Jesus kept talking about turning the other cheek and dying for sins. Imagine the frustration. "If I force a confrontation in the Garden of Gethsemane," Judas might have reasoned, "the Lion of Judah will finally have to roar. He’ll call down the angels. He’ll have to fight." We know his name as shorthand for treachery

Jesus Himself seems to hint at this horror. He says, "The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born" (Matthew 26:24).

That explains why he didn't spend the silver. He threw it back at the priests and went out to hang himself. It was the suicide of a broken idealist, not a successful con man. Here is the theological knife twist: Without Judas, there is no crucifixion. Without the crucifixion, no resurrection. Without the resurrection, no Christianity.