I sometimes think that we find more palatable the hypothesis, for which I've never seen even suggestive evidence, that Judas betrayed Jesus because he wanted to force his hand, to speed up his Messianic timetable, instead of the stated reason, thirty pieces of silver, because we're frightened that this man, our prototype, betrayed the son of God for something as petty as money.
I once read that someone, Milton maybe, had suggested that Adam ate the fruit in the Garden to save Eve from destruction, to bear their punishment together. Because how frightening is it that Adam, the progenitor of the entire human race, ate the fruit because it looked tasty? That simple pleasure drove him to commit a heinous act.
If Judas wasn't a revolutionary, a freedom fighter, and thus a tragic figure, in the Aristotelean sense, but instead a petty thief, as John insists, who believed in Jesus, but loved life's little pleasures, if all he was thinking about when he kissed the master's cheek was wine and olives, maybe some good meat, then we, all of us, must look again to our noble motives in each sinful act. Am I lustful because I simply love women or because I like pleasure? Am I dishonest because I don't want people to feel bad or because I know honesty put Jesus on a cross? Am I lazy because of depression or because I found an excuse?
I began this while reading a piece by Morton T. Kelsey called "The Cross and the Cellar," which begins thus: "Each of us has underneath our ordinary personality, which we show to the public, a cellar in which we hide the refuse and rubbish which we would rather not see ourselves or let others see. And below that is a deeper hold in which there are dragons and demons, a truly hellish place, full of violence and hatred and viciousness."
I am firmly of the opinion, which I think I gained from reading Lewis, whether he would agree with me or not, that the deepest depravity of the human heart is not found in death camps, but in the petty pleasures that cause us to cheat on our spouses or even just torture them with unnecessary and ill-founded critiques. The little cruelties, with which we can make our collective lives a veritable hell, when we consider that the motive is not hate, or even irrational fear, but the pleasure we gain from them, are among the more frightening things we can see in our hearts or those of others. I feel that we've become unduly frightened by the sociopath, the person who coldly watches the emotional lives of others without empathy. Forgive me if I misuse the term. But I remember a far more frightening sight, looking into the eyes of your torturers and seeing only enjoyment, only laughter looking back at you.
In fact, well on our side of the wall we put between ourselves and the "monsters" we think of as being responsible for the state of the world, terrorists, bankers, politicians, etc., we find ourselves, venal, vain, and greedy and responsible, with all the rest, for the state the world is in.
And it is in our perceived virtues that our vices hide. As a young man, I believed myself to be of great faith, because I never doubt the existence of God. And one day, as I basked in this self-assurance, the Almighty assured me that my faith was a farce, that it was because of my lack of faith that I had been granted such a clear path to belief, because he had pity on me. Pride masquerades as faith, and judgmentalism as purity and laziness or cowardice as patience.
Lewis once pointed out that the Good News rested on a Bad News that used to be taken for granted, which we must be careful to accept in order to avoid the pitfall of pride and feel the value of what's on offer in the gospel.
