At supper with his friends, Jesus was troubled in spirit, and declared, “Very truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me.” (John 13.21)

I wonder when he realized his horrible mistake. I think about how his gut churned and the waves of nausea moving through him as he began to come to grips with the horrible death that would greet his “friend” before the day was over.

Things began so hopefully. This Jesus said all the right things. He had that “it” factor. The crowds flocked to him, hanging on his every word. If anyone could lead the revolution, Judas thought, it was him. If anyone could be the downfall of these Romans and their slimy, profiteering puppets it would be Jesus. “Finally,” he thought, “someone who could make my dreams come true.”

I wonder when things began to unravel. What began his descent into dissatisfaction? When did Judas begin to decide that Jesus was not “it?” Perhaps it was when Jesus preached that “sermon” about the poor being blessed. Or the part of the same sermon when he called peacemakers blessed. What kind of trash thinking is that, Judas fumed.

No. Judas was a man ready for action, violent action if needed. There were days when Judas itched for something to happen. He would have happily unleashed his anger against the Romans. Especially if he were the one who sparked and unleashed the anger of others to spill out in violence. He had always expected and welcomed the chance to exact his revenge on the Romans, their Jewish enablers – especially those pharisees. There were days he thought it would happen. But every time Jesus simply “turned the other cheek.”

Disappointment followed disappointment. Frustrations built. Then Jesus began talking nonsense about how the beloved Temple would be destroyed and he would rebuild it in three days. Then he said something about how his followers should wash each others feet.

Washing feet won’t win a revolution much less start one.

Judas could not remember when the quiet conversations began.

Eventually a deal was struck – with the same people that Judas would have liked to have struck with his own hands.

At table with Jesus and the others, Judas was distant. While the others laughed and shared joy, he was pensive and edgy. He kept touching the money bag at his waist and looking at the door. He heard someone say something about betrayal but he was too distracted to catch much more. Then Jesus gave him a morsel of bread dipped in wine – and he could sit still no longer.

The rest of the night was a blur. He met with his co-conspirators. He watched as a group of armed men gathered. Then he led them under the cover of darkness to where Jesus would always go for his evening prayer time.

There was shouting and shoving. Angry words filled the night. Even a sword was drawn. But in the middle of it all was a very calm Jesus. He settled everyone down. And he went without a fight with the armed men.

Soon Judas had a second bag of silver. But he was even more troubled than before. He watched the guards mistreat and abuse Jesus. He recollected all the times he had seen that done to other Jews. He saw Jesus undergo an unjust trial – another familiar sight. More mistreatment. A sentence of death by crucifixion. More of the same cruelty, Judas thought. More of the same.

Wasn’t this what Judas wanted to be stopped? Wasn’t this why Judas saw Jesus as a savior of the people, someone who could put a stop to Roman abuses and violence? And now, he was thirty pieces of silver richer and part of the very system he hated. In one transaction he sold out Jesus and his own values, his own soul.

There was no stopping the Roman death machine. And there was no changing the reality that he was now what he come to hate. He was no better than the Romans and their supporters.

As he watched Jesus’ torment he realized that it was he who wielded the whip, who beat and spit upon Jesus, who hammered the nails.

He was the guilty one, not Jesus. He belonged on the cross, not Jesus. He deserved death, not Jesus.

His gut churned. Waves of nausea began moving through his body. Realizing his mistakes all along the way a thought came into focus – he had thwarted not only Jesus’ plans but God’s plans. It was God whom he betrayed when he betrayed Jesus. The thought was too much. It broke him. Grief washed over him. Unconsolable. As he threw away the silver his eye saw something.

Wrapping his fingers firmly around the rope, he walked out the door into the dark night.