Why did Judas betray Jesus?

This might be one of the most difficult questions in the Bible.

After following Jesus for three years, witnessing Jesus perform amazing miracles, heal the sick, give sight to the blind, cast out demons, and even raise the dead... you have to wonder, what in the world was Judas thinking?

 

I mean, if you and I saw Jesus do all those things and spent every day with him for three years, learning at his feet, we'd never betray him, would we?

 

The account of Judas' betrayal unfolds across the Gospels, each offering unique insights. Matthew's gospel provides a stark depiction:

 

"Then one of the twelve, whose name was Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, 'What will you give me if I deliver him over to you?' And they paid him thirty pieces of silver. And from that moment he sought an opportunity to betray him" (Mt 26:14-16). 

 

The Greek verb παραδίδωμι (paradidōmi) used for "betray" carries the nuanced meaning of "handing over" or "delivering up." Intriguingly, this same verb appears elsewhere in the New Testament to describe God's action of delivering up His Son for our salvation (Rom 8:32). This linguistic parallel invites us to ponder the paradoxical nature of Judas' act – a betrayal that, while undeniably sinful, becomes interwoven into God's redemptive plan.

 

At first glance, Judas' motivation appears purely financial. Yet, the sum offered – thirty pieces of silver – was relatively modest, equivalent to about four months' wages for a laborer. This specific amount echoes the prophecy in Zechariah: "So they weighed out as my wages thirty pieces of silver" (Zech 11:12). The precise fulfillment of this prophecy points to a divine orchestration that transcends human machinations.

 

John's gospel peels back another layer of Judas' character:

 

"But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (he who was about to betray him), said, 'Why was this ointment not sold for three hundred denarii and given to the poor?' He said this, not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief, and having charge of the moneybag he used to help himself to what was put into it" (Jn 12:4-6).

 

The Greek word for "thief" is κλέπτης (kleptēs),the word we get "kelptomaniac" from. Someone who habitually steals. Judas' sin isn't just a one time deal, as if he was pressed to make a mortgage payment or something and needed to cut a shady bargain. It was a part of a repeated pattern of dishonesty and self-interest.

 

Even so, it's one thing to have a stealing problem (it's actually a real addiction for some people) it's another thing entirely to betray someone who'd shown in innumerable ways that he was the Christ, the Messiah, even God in the flesh.

 

Some theologians propose that Judas' betrayal stemmed from a fundamental misunderstanding of Christ's mission. Perhaps Judas, like many others, expected a political messiah who would overthrow Roman rule. When Jesus spoke of His impending death instead of establishing an earthly kingdom, did Judas feel disillusioned? Did he attempt to force Jesus' hand, compelling Him to assert His power? This is what's implied in The Chosen, and not without reason. But it's speculative, and doesn't really give us a solid answer.

 

Even if it were true, even if Judas had a real problem with greed/thievery, and had a messed up view of who the Messiah was supposed to be, the hard question would remain:

.

How could someone who walked so closely with Jesus for three years ultimately turn against Him? 

 

Lurking behind that question is another one... one we might wrongly assume:

 

Does proximity to holiness automatically transform the heart? 

 

We have to answer that in the negative.

 

Still, a lot of us live our Christian lives as if that's precisely what we expect. As if we can sort of "hang around" the Church, and a bunch of Christians, and their holiness/righteousness will sort of rub off on us. You're welcome to try that, but if it didn't work for Judas who was literally with Jesus Himself constantly for three years, I doubt an hour or two a week hanging around imperfect Christians will do much to change you.

 

You can't become a disciple by proxy. No one else can have faith for you, follow Jesus on your behalf, or learn the Bible so you don't have to read it. While other believers can pray for you, that alone leaves you missing out on the most important part of prayer. You see, prayer isn't about the results (what someone else might be praying for about you) as it is about how it transforms the person who is praying. 

 

I think there's a lesson here for all of us. Just because we're showing up, even hanging around where Jesus is, and doing a lot of the things a Christian is supposed to do, doesn't mean we're "getting" it. Faith is ultimately less about all the stuff you do, or what you surround yourself with, as it is about trust and surrender. 

 

I think we can say with certainty that Judas never truly surrendered Himself to Jesus. 

 

Luke's account introduces another dimension to this already complex narrative:

 

"Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was of the number of the twelve. He went away and conferred with the chief priests and officers how he might betray him to them" (Lk 22:3-4).

 

This unsettling detail raises profound questions about the nature of evil and human responsibility. Was Judas merely a pawn in a cosmic chess game, or did his own choices make him susceptible to satanic influence? To complicate matters more, in John's Gospel we hear how Jesus predicted that one of the twelve would betray him. After they all get concerned, and ask who it is, Jesus tells them that it's the one to whom he gives the morsel of bread after he dips it. Then, we read, "Then after he had taken the morsel, Satan entered into him." (Jn 13:27).

 

This is a fascinating passage for several reasons. On the surface, it almost looks like Jesus is sending Satan into Judas. However, we hear earlier (just a few verses) when Jesus was washing the disciples' feet that one of them was already unclean. The narrator (John) adds that Jesus said this because he knew Judas would betray him.

 

But then again, Jesus didn't just "zap" Judas with a bolt of energy that forced Satan into him. Jesus said exactly what was going to happen to the one to whom he gave the morsel of bread. Jesus, knowing Judas' plans, hands it to him...

 

But it's when Judas took it that Satan enters him. Judas ultimately chose his fate, even though Jesus knew in advance what was going to happen.

 

First, let me say that I think there's a connection here between what Paul decries as eating/drinking of the body and blood of Christ in the Eucharist in an "unworthy" manner, as drinking unto damnation. That's another issue, really, but I wanted to mention it because I think it illuminates what's going on here.

 

When Jesus offered Judas the morsel he was giving him the opportunity to repent. Jesus had just revealed exactly what Judas was planning to do. It's sort of like how earlier in John, Jesus confronts the woman at the well and tells her everything she'd ever done! The woman at the well, then, repents and becomes an evangelist, telling everyone in Samaria about Jesus.

 

Judas is given the same opportunity here. He could say, "Lord, I repent! I had planned to betray you, but please, don't hand me that morsel. Do not give this to me as a judgment, not to damnation, but have mercy on me, save me!"

 

Jesus would have gladly embraced him.

 

It's when Judas refuses Jesus' invitation to repent, when he refuses Jesus Himself, that Satan enters him.  

But even then, Judas had another chance to repent. He came really close to doing exactly that.

We read about it in Matthew, and it might be one of the saddest passages in the entire Bible:

 

Then when Judas, his betrayer, saw that Jesus was condemned, he changed his mind and brought back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and the elders,  saying, “I have sinned by betraying innocent blood.” They said, “What is that to us? See to it yourself.”  And throwing down the pieces of silver into the temple, he departed, and he went and hanged himself. (27:3-5).

 

The word for "changed his mind" here is very close to the word to repent. The word used here is "μεταμέλομαι" which literally means "changed his wishes," or his desires. To "repent" is typically "μετανοέω" which is literally a "change of mind." This repentance isn't just like making a cognitive choice, either. It's not like an "oops" I'm going to think differently. It's about totally reorienting oneself. The kind of repentance that Judas did, that focuses on the "change of a wish" is a word that focuses more on his regret, on wallowing in what he'd done, rather than actually changing direction.

 

The real tragedy happens, though, when he actually tries to return the money to confess, to repent. He says, "I have sinned by betraying innocent blood." The proper response for the religious authorities would be to absolve him, to pronounce God's forgiveness. That's what we're called to do as believers. Instead, they leave him in his sins. "What is that to us?"

 

Judas went to the wrong place to repent. At that moment, he could have joined the Marys and John at the cross and begged Jesus for forgiveness. Jesus would have granted it. He forgave everyone else who was responsible for crucifying him. But Judas went to the wrong place to find absolution. He went to the religious authorities rather than to the foot of the cross.

 

Without forgiveness, he was distraught and committed suicide.

 

The truth is, we all betray Jesus when we knowingly embrace sin, when we take that morsel even though Jesus warned us about what we were about to do. We let the devil into us by choice when we choose to go our own way, rather than follow Him. But even then, it's not too late to repent. What Jesus requires, though, isn't just giving back the money. It's not about casting aside whatever you've gained by your sin (though that's a part of it!). It's not about about feeling really bad about it, though that's a part of it too.

 

It's about changing direction, and returning to the foot of the cross. That's where we find absolution. That's where we find forgiveness.

 

Judas Iscariot is known for his sin, for betraying Jesus, but think how he'd have been remembered throughout history if he'd come to Jesus rather than the religious authorities? The tragedy of the Judas story isn't just that he betrayed Jesus. The truth is, the authorities were probably going to find Jesus and crucify him regardless. Judas' betrayal just expedited what was inevitable. The real tragedy of Judas' story is that when he had the opportunity to be restored, to seek forgiveness, he went to the wrong place...

 

You see, there's no sin too great for Jesus to forgive. Again, he forgave his crucifiers! The tragedy is when after we've been given every opportunity to return to Christ, when we knew exactly where to go, but looked elsewhere to deal with our guilt or shame (perhaps to the wrong religious authority, or appealing to justifications, or using a substance/habit/addiction to distract you from your guilt), we were just like Judas.

 

Don't cash in that blood money for a field and a noose. Don't "stick" with a repentance that only knows remorse and shame. Repent all the way, change direction, and bring your shame, guilt, and regret, to Jesus at the cross.

 

He will forgive you.

 

As we ponder these questions, we're reminded of our own capacity for betrayal. How often have we, like Judas, allowed greed, disappointment, or misunderstanding to distance us from Christ? Yet, the gospel assures us that even our deepest betrayals can be redeemed by God's unfathomable grace.

 

Consider Peter, who denied Jesus three times yet was restored and became a pillar of the early church. His story stands in stark contrast to Judas', reminding us that the path of repentance always remains open. Where Judas despaired, Peter hoped. Where Judas isolated himself, looked in the wrong place for grace, Peter returned to the community of believers.

 

The tale of two betrayals – Judas and Peter – illustrates the power of response. Both failed, but their reactions to failure determined their destinies. This narrative urges us to cultivate a heart of repentance, always ready to turn back to Christ no matter how far we've strayed.

 

We might not ever totally understand why Judas betrayed Jesus. Honestly, sin isn't rational. Most of the time when we sin we can't totally answer "why" we did it, either.

 

Still, exploring this question leads us to consider what matters more. Explaining the "why" of your sin is far less important than knowing who to turn to when you fall. Learn from Peter, not Judas. Return to the cross, don't buy a field. It's literally the difference between life and death.

 

In Jesus name,

Judah