The Disciple Who Never Made It to Easter

What Judas may teach us about failure, shame and the grace we struggle to believe is still available.

Caravaggio, The Taking of Christ (c. 1602). Judas steps forward to identify Jesus with a kiss, capturing the moment of betrayal that would come to define his name. Yet the Gospel story does not end with the betrayal itself. Image: Wikimedia Commons.

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There are few names in the Bible that carry as much baggage as Judas.

We do not even need to add Iscariot anymore. Call someone a Judas, and everyone knows what you mean. His name has become shorthand for betrayal, treachery and disloyalty. Two thousand years after his death, we still instinctively know where to place him in the story.

He is the villain.

For most of my life, I never thought much beyond that. Jesus was innocent. Judas betrayed him. The pieces fitted neatly enough.

Yet the more I have read the Gospel accounts, the less tidy Judas has become.

I am not suggesting that his betrayal somehow did not matter, nor that the Gospel writers secretly want us to regard him as a misunderstood hero. They clearly don’t. Jesus speaks seriously about what Judas will do, and the consequences are terrible.

But there is something else in his story that I find increasingly difficult to ignore.

Judas failed Jesus terribly.

But so did Peter.

And only one of them made it to resurrection morning.