How can you love a Judas Iscariot?

But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven; for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust (Matthew 5:44-45 NKJV).

Judge not, that you be not judged. For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you (Matthew 7:1-2 NKJV).

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another (John 13:34-35 NKJV).

The test of loving like Christ is not loving Jesus. It’s loving Judas. (Anonymous meme.)

Nobody has a good word for Judas Iscariot. Not even in the gospels. Judas is the archetypical betrayer, villain, and traitor. That’s why the anonymous meme quoted above speaks to me. It poses a challenge that puts everything I believe and hold dear to a very hard test. A number of years ago, the phrase “Love the sinner. Hate the sin” was in vogue. Regrettably, it became a sort of a catchphrase to cover one’s intolerance of others. And to be brutally honest, it is difficult to come up with much of anything good to say about Judas Iscariot. 

If I had been living as part of a conquered peoples in the harsh realities of Roman domination, would I have been much different than Peter who denied Christ three times? Or the wealthy young man who “went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions”? Or the two sisters of Lazarus standing outside a tomb that had been sealed for four days? Or the father who cried out in anguish, “Lord I believe! Help my unbelief!” Or Doubting Thomas? Or Judas Iscariot? It’s a bit like what I used to hear Vietnam veterans, and more recently Afghanistan veterans, so often say. “You had to be there.”

Judas Iscariot was there. Judas Iscariot made a choice. He regretted that choice, the worst case of Seller’s Remorse in history. We know he regretted what he had done. But what we don’t know if he repented for what he had done. Like the proverbial thief captured in possession of the loot, he wasn’t sorry for stealing, but he was really sorry he got caught. That is why history is so harsh on Judas Iscariot. Regret does not equal repentance. 

There have been times when I’ve done something to someone that I regretted doing, but never quite got around to repenting my act. I may, or may not, have made a half-hearted apology.  The only difference between Judas and I is a matter of degree. It is this idea, that regret does not equal repentance, that makes me realize that Judas Iscariot and I are “neighbors.” 

If Judas and I are neighbors, then I am required to “love” him. Love the Sinner, hate the sin, remember? But it is hard, isn’t it? It’s very hard. I’m sure you know someone who has grievously wronged you. Possibly, you have forgiven that person their wrong. But finding in your heart the ability to love them seems almost impossible. I remember someone I had wronged telling me, after I’d sincerely apologized and begged forgiveness from them, “Jerry, you know I dearly love you. But sometimes, I just don’t like you very much.” 

If the test is loving Judas, if Judas is my neighbor, then the best answer I can give is “Judas. I love you, but sometimes, I just don’t like you very much.” 

That’s the best I can do.

How about you? 

Rejoice always,

Jerry Lipscomb