C.C.C.

“What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?”

That’s how today’s Gospel opens. And there’s a horrifying honesty in the question that Judas asks the chief priests. Judas knows exactly what he’s doing.

How is that even possible? Jesus is the best thing that’s ever happened to Judas.

Judas is a petty, vain, greedy man. And he’s crushingly aware of this.

But for the first time in his life, someone looked him (God incarnate, as it happens) and said, “I want you on my team.” For the first time in his life, Judas is part of something good, something holy. For the first time in his life, Judas is unconditionally loved.

The teachings that Jesus explained to the Apostles? Judas heard it.

The healings and miracles that Jesus did? Judas saw it.

When the disciples went out two by two, to heal and perform miracles in Jesus’ name? Judas did it.

So how does someone who heard, saw, and did all of that end up asking the chief priests, “What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?”

Because it didn’t change Judas. Not because Judas was vain (although he was). Not because Judas was stealing from everyone (although he was).

It didn’t change Judas. Because Judas won’t let it.

None of it soaks in. All of it rolls right off Judas. Like water off a duck’s back.

Because every time it happens – every teaching, every healing, every miracle – every time, Judas keeps a tight grip on the Judas he’s always known, the Judas before Jesus. And goes right back to being that Judas.

If you look at the arc of the other Apostles – whether it’s clean and simple like the numinous moment of Nathaniel, a crisis like Thomas’ struggle with doubt, or a plodding two-steps-forward-one-step-back cycle like Peter – all of them grow and change the longer they’re around Jesus.

But not Judas. Judas is the only constant among the Apostles. Because Judas keeps a tight grip on the Judas he’s always known, the Judas before Jesus. And goes right back to being that Judas.

That is how it happens. That’s how you get to the question. And not just for Judas. That’s how it happens for you and me.

When we encounter Jesus in the Sacraments, in the Word, in the poor, in the sick, in the people who are part of our lives, do we keep a tight grip on the us we’ve always known, the us before Jesus? And go right back to being that us?

Or do we let go of the us we’ve always known, the us before Jesus?

And open our hearts to His unconditional love? To the good, to the holy, to the possible? To the us we were made to be?

The choice matters. Because only one of them leads to eternal life.

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