The Judas Defence

“If I were Jesus Christ. I would save Judas.”
Victor Hugo

In my previous post, I referred to what I called the Judas Defence, that propensity amongst many Christian thinkers to argue Judas’ case. Why are so many compelled to make this case? What underlies this impulse? I undertake this study on Judas to further explore these questions using a Jungian approach.

In the Biblical text, Judas Iscariot is one of the twelve disciples, the carrier of the money bag. He is ultimately the betrayer of Jesus, whom he gives up for thirty pieces of silver, identifying Jesus by kissing him in the Garden of Gethsemane, enabling soldiers to arrest and ultimately crucify him. He is portrayed in the four Gospels as an archetypal villain, destroying innocence for selfish reward.

The question as to whether we should regard Judas as an historical figure I regard as a fruitless digression, being both unknowable, and ultimately irrelevant. A conscious preoccupation with historicity is the outward attempt to resolve unconscious questions. Which is to say, what masquerades as a search for historical truth conceals deeper questions concerning our sense of self, and the nature of spiritual reality.

Judas is mythologically typical; the hero is often betrayed by a shadowy mischievous someone who occupies a position within the inner circle. Take the legendary Germanic hero Sigurd, or the Norse god Thor as examples of mythological figures who were betrayed in a similar manner. Jung says that such a mythological motif “…expresses the simple fact that envy does not let mankind sleep in peace.” (CW 5:42). Along with envy, we can also identify in Judas two further motivating factors in his betrayal of Jesus, which are also recurring mythological motifs, namely, the corrupting influence of money, and demonic influence - in the Gospel of Luke and John the devil “entered into” Judas (Luke 22:3, John 13:27).

Mythologies help us to identify tendencies within the personality, or personalities at large. There is a propensity within humanity to act such mythological motifs out. As stated, the archetypal patterns of behavior we can identify in Judas are envy, love of money, and the more inscrutable, demonic possession, which if rendered in secular terms I would take to mean an arrested state in which bad impulses compromise our ordinary conscious state, or potentially our sense of agency. However, the simple fact that Judas is the betrayer is more important mythologically speaking than any given motive. That was his part to play within the unfolding biblical drama.

After all, the completion of Jesus' mission, as framed in orthodox terms, was not possible without Judas, which may well lead us to the question of how can a loving God eternally damn someone who was instrumental in Christ’s salvific mission, especially if, as the ‘devil entered into Judas’ passages suggest, his own agency was compromised. Now, although this is an interesting thought experiment, it is of course unanswerable, but I think the fact that one might ask the question at all is illuminating.

I foreshadowed my conclusion in my remarks concerning biblical historicity; such preoccupations conceal deeper questions. In Judas’ case the issue at hand is not poor Judas’ salvific state but rather humanity's, or more pertinently, our own. For whom among us is not guilty of envy, or putting money above God/love, or who has not been caught up in an “experience” of “evil”? But beyond these specific Judas sins, we can also look to our daily acts of betrayal, either past, present, or future. If the Judas Defence question hangs prominently in your conscience, perhaps you are seeking forgiveness for a betrayal not yet committed. Seeking to be released from perceived bondage.

We are all the Judas who betrayed our Lord.

In a roundabout way, I feel this widened appreciation of what transpires within the psyche does offer a sort of answer. It is not that the savior is up there, and that Judas is within, or vice versa, the archetypal patters present in mythology all reside within, within us daily there is a betrayal, a crucifixion, and a resurrection.

References:

Jung, C. G. (1953-83). The Collected Works of C. G. Jung, 20 vols. Sir Herbert Read, Michael Fordham, Gerhard Adler (Eds). William McGuire (Executive Ed). R. F. C. Hull (Trans). London: Routledge & Kegan Paul; Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press. (the short form CW is used for the Collective Works).