Celestials
Chapter 18

My name is Judas Iscariot. I was born over two thousand years ago. Throughout history my name has been synonymous with betrayer. In the Bible, I am noted always as Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Jesus. But it was not always like that.

There is not much you need to know about my childhood. I was raised the same as any good Judean. Born as a set of twins, my brother died at birth. He would have been the seventh child, deemed auspicious in the Jewish culture. I was looked upon as unlucky from that day forward. Whether it was a self-fulfilling prophecy or just the truth, I know not.

By twenty I was unmarried and had no solid trade, something unheard of at the time. This is when I came across John, later he would be known as John the Baptist. He was a rather tall and broad man, with a booming but warm voice. Dressed always in clothes made from camel hair and a leather belt, he often ate locusts and wild honey. John was an enigma but brilliant. By baptizing the citizens and preaching about being good and kind, he paved the way for Jesus’ message. Many speak of him prophesying that Jesus would come. It’s a view that has been distorted over time. However, I can see how his preparation for Jesus was romanticized over the years. John was on a mission and that mission was to ready the people for what was to come.

It was with John that I met Jesus. We had heard about a young man in and around Galilee who was preaching to the hopeless, helping the sick, and turning thieves back to justice. When John saw Jesus approach, he knew immediately this was the man they spoke of. John seemed to recognize a higher purpose in this man, as we all did. It was impossible not to. He practically glowed with it.

Never in the two thousand years since then, have I met a person so at peace, so calm, and so utterly sure of their purpose in life as Jesus. Being in his presence was like being welcomed home. No matter what was happening when you were in his presence, peace descended. Some say it is because he is the son of God. I’ve always believed it’s what happens when one is so sure of themselves, their decisions, and their purpose that there is nothing left to be but at peace.

When Jesus asked John to baptize him, John laughed his booming laugh and said, “I feel it is you who should be baptizing me. However, I would be honored.” He set about praying and dunking Jesus in the river. As it was being done, the clouds parted and the sun shone down on us.

“It is as if God is saying, ‘This is my Son and I am pleased,’” John whispered in awe. His voice carried over the crowd and they all hushed, held by what they witnessed.

I always believed this is what started it. Jesus never claimed to be the Messiah or the Son of God. In every Bible or Christian text, you will read that he claimed this, prophesized about it. He never claimed that but others did. That notion grew until everyone was saying he was the Messiah and the Son of God. I don’t think Jesus even knew what God really was but he didn’t think it was a being capable of having a son, that was certain.

It was after that day that I followed Jesus. It was impossible not to. John had become a good friend and I knew he could see my need to believe in something or someone. We had often spoke of it. When he saw me after Jesus’ baptism, he smiled knowingly at me.

“Go my friend,” he told me. “Find your purpose.”

Cautiously, I approached Jesus. He was surrounded by a crowd and I patiently waited until it dwindled. Finally, he looked up and saw me. His brown eyes were warmer than anything I had encountered up to that point. His mere presence settled my nerves.

“My friend,” he said to me, “how can I help you?”

“No, I have all I need,” I told him. “I am here for you. Whatever you need, the message that you want to spread, I want to help with that.”

He smiled and the world lit up. Then he placed a hand on my shoulder and said, “For now my friend, stay with John. Spread the word of kindness and of love. It is something far too many people have forgotten. And the next time we meet, perhaps it will be time for you to come with me.”

It seems odd that one person you’ve only just met can fill you with love but it was what happened. Someone who just wanted others to make decisions based on love and kindness changed my view. That is how I started living my life. When someone needed assistance, I didn’t grumble or wonder why things always came at inopportune times. I looked at it as a way to give back to those who had given to me. I saw myself for a conduit of greater love, love of community and people.

A year later, I saw Jesus again. He was followed by a group of men, people called his disciples and a woman, Mary. He saw me from across a marketplace and immediately made his way over. He hugged me as if we were long lost brothers.

“My friend, are you ready to join our family?” He gestured to the group behind him.

I nodded. It was an honor to be part of his family, I knew that. I still can’t figure out what I did to deserve the honor of walking beside him every day. Why he chose me out of the thousands of people who would have joined him. Later on, I asked him that question. He laughed softly.

“You want to know why I chose you Judas over others to help me spread this message?” His eyes twinkled with joy and warmth. I nodded. “Out of the countless people who approach me daily, do you know how many ask to help me?”

“Many, Rabbi.” At this point, I had taken to call him teacher or friend, which always caused him to smile. Being called Messiah was a title he accepted because the people gave it to him, but it always made him a little uncomfortable.

“That may be true my friend. Many people understand our message and want to spread it. But how many do you think are doing it purely out of selflessness? How many are spreading our message because they are hoping to get to Heaven like people are claiming or because it will look good to their neighbors? I’m not judging them. We all have motives and reasons for what we do and if that is what helps people make decisions based on love and kindness, I will gladly accept those motivators.”

“I don’t understand, Rabbi,” I told him him. “What are you asking me?”

“How many people have asked to help spread this message with no motive but pure selflessness and wanting to do good?” he asked. I shook my head. “One, Judas. One. You came to me pure of motive and wanting only to have neighbors love each other.”

“Rabbi, I-“

“You are a good man, Judas, with a kind heart. One day you will realize this.”

We worked tirelessly in those years. Travelling from place to place and preaching the message. It is written that Jesus had the power of God, something akin to magic. In times, he would pass this on to us. However, that is not how it was. There was no sorcery, nothing magical or unnatural. Jesus simply inspired people.

He inspired masses to rise up and help their neighbors, to love them. There is a story where he turned a fish and a loaf of bread into enough to feed thousands of people. This is untrue, but not completely wrong. The fish and bread did not multiply by some holy decree. Jesus talked to the people, inspired them, encouraged them to love. Soon neighbors with plenty were sharing with neighbors with little. In a matter of time, there was more than enough food to feed everyone. To this day, it is still one of the most compassionate and moving sights I have ever beheld. All of the stories that talk of his divine power are like this. An exaggeration of the love and the kindness he inspired in others that transformed lives.

Despite what many people might think, Jesus was a great friend to me. We talked for hours, more so than he did with other disciples, save Mary. I cherished the relationship I had with him. He was my teacher but he was also my advisor, my friend, my confessor. He looked to me to help guide the people. Jesus trusted me as the treasurer of our little group because he knew I would never sabotage what he was doing. I loved him deeply as a trusted friend and brother.

Which is why he chose me.

As time wore on, Jesus spoke often of sacrifice for the greater good. He talked of having to suffer so the world could continue with his message. It was like he knew something radical was the only way to make his message stay in the minds of the people. Fear choked me during these talks. How would the world survive without this man? How could we further his lessons if such a benevolent creature was taken from us? It was in the midst of these thoughts that he approached me.

Jesus slept little. His mind and heart were always so full, it made sleep difficult. Many nights, in the darkness and quiet, he would share his burden with me. I would always feel a weight fall upon my shoulders after these talks and hoped that he felt lighter after them. One night, I awoke from a terrible dream where Jesus was being killed. There was unrest and not all of the people we encountered were happy with what Jesus was doing. It was not an unfounded fear. I awoke in fear and sadness to see Jesus sitting alone silhouetted in moonlight. When he noticed I was awake, he bade me join him with a nod of his head.

There was something about the five foot walk over to where he sat looking upon the town that stuck with me. I could feel the weight and importance of our discussion before we even had it. As I sat next to him, he started speaking without looking at me.

“I know you are afraid for me. You fear the decisions I make, the way I lead, and the things I say will get me killed,” he started. Jesus turned his head and his brown eyes caught mine, an intensity burning into me. “It is necessary, my friend. There is no other way.”

“Rabbi, death is not necessary to continue our cause. Without you to inspire the people, I fear our message of love and kindness will be lost,” I pleaded with him.

He smiled sadly. “Dear friend, I fear you speak from fondness of our time together and not objectively. If I am sacrificed, people will fight harder to keep our message alive. They will cry in outrage, drive forward with passion, and in turn, keep our message alive far longer than my speeches ever could.”

I put my hand on his shoulder and he patted it gently. “I understand what you are saying, Rabbi, but there has to be another way,” I implored him.

Jesus shook his head sadly. “There is no other way for me, for us friend. In your head you know that, it is your heart that has a hard time accepting that. I understand. My heart took its time coming to the same realization. It wanted to stay here with you and debate, with Mary and be held in her arms, with all of our friends. This is the way.”

I took a shuddering breath. My heart was squeezing itself tightly over the thought of losing my most beloved friend. “Rabbi…” There was nothing else I could say without begging him to reconsider.

“Now my friend, my most kind-hearted and understanding friend, I must ask you a favor.” He put a warm hand on my shoulder and grasped it tightly. “It is a favor no friend should ever ask of their brother, but I know in my heart you are the only I can trust with such a task.”

“Anything, my friend, anything.” My agreement came quickly. If it would ease the pain in his eyes, I wanted to help him.

He smiled sadly. “My heart warms that you so readily accept my plan, but it will pain you when you hear it.” He looked to me and I nodded for him to continue. My heart was squeezing tighter and though I knew it was something I would find difficult, painful even, I would do what this man asked of me. “You must betray me, Judas.”

“I don’t understand.” And I didn’t.

“The Romans are looking for me. When the time is right, I need you to lead them to me.”

“But, they will imprison you or worse!” I protested. This I could not do for him. I wouldn’t.

“You must, Judas,” he said as if hearing my thoughts. We were so close that sometimes it was like he could. “I have no reason to believe that this will render a death blow. Perhaps punishment from the Romans is all the people will need to keep our message going and I can return to you and my beloved friends.” There was a wistfulness in his voice, a small tinge of hope.

“Jesus, friend, I know not if I can turn you over to them.” My heart was breaking with the future betrayal.

“You must. You will not turn me over to them. You will lead them to me and what happens after that is out of both of our hands.” His calm explanation washed over me. Peace descended as it always did with him, but this time it was unwanted. “When the right time comes, you will betray me.”

My eyes moved to his and I could feel the fury inside of me despite the calm. “Why do you keep calling it betrayal when it is what you are asking of me?”

His hand moved to my shoulder again. “It is what it will look like to outsiders. I can’t give myself willingly and I can’t trust it to fate. I have to trust my closest friend to do it. But at first, it will look like you betrayed me. Later, after my punishment is set, people will realize what you did for them, how you helped us.”

“I-“

“Please, Judas. You are the only one I can trust with this.” His eyes implored me.

I nodded my acceptance, the relief in his eyes palpable. After a moment, I asked him, “How will I know when the time is right?”

He smiled sadly. “You will know.”

Jesus knew, he always knew. Over the next several weeks, he spoke three times of someone betraying him. With Jesus’ knowledge, I approached the chief priests. We met in a back room in the Temple, a most surreal experience for me. They seemed bloodthirsty and not at all like the priests I had grown accustomed to in the public arena.

I asked them, “What will you give me if I betray Jesus to you?”

I could tell it was not what they were expecting to hear from me. They were anticipating that I wanted to stop the hunt for Jesus, instead I was offering him to them. Without a word, they exchanged glances. One of them counted out thirty silver coins, put them in a cloth bag, and handed them to me. They only assent of my decision they needed was a nod, for which I was grateful. My heart was heavy and my mind full of anger. They so easily believed that I would betray my friend, my teacher for some paltry coins! I wandered around town knowing I could not go back to my friends in the state I was in.

It wasn’t till the last night, what has now been called the Last Supper, that I knew the time was right. Jesus spoke of one of us betraying him. All of the other disciples were aghast and asked him if they were to be the one to betray him. It was then I understood why he chose me. He knew I would never, under any circumstance go against his wishes. Jesus was uncertain the rest of them could follow through.

Finally, I asked, “Surely, Rabbi, you don’t mean me?”

His eyes reflected a heaviness I had not seen before but his voice was firm. “So you say.” He did not deny me and he did not alert the others that it would happen. I knew it was time. I nodded my head.

Someone mentioned we were in need of something, full of grief was I that I still cannot remember what it was. I took some money out of our coffers. The others suspected that I was going to buy what we were in need of.

“When you return,” Jesus spoke up, “we will likely be praying in Gethsemane.”

I nodded again. He had handed me his place of arrest. Slinking along in the shadows of the night, I reached the chief priests and told them where Jesus was. They assembled a large crowd with weapons, a sight which made me nervous. They followed me at first but as I realized where they were going they passed me. I ran furiously to keep up.

What happened after that were the hardest days of my life. The story of Jesus carrying the cross and his crucifixion are legendary. What has been said and acted out over the years is just a small bit of what happened. They treated him like garbage, like you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. He was no longer a person but a pawn, the lowest dog to be punished in their game. I stayed in disguise so I could watch over him. The shame at what I had done ate at me. I could not look them in the face knowing I had orchestrated Jesus’ torture. My soul felt every pierce to his body. I spent those days whispering quiet words of comfort and encouragement, knowing he couldn’t hear them but hoping he could feel them.

I tried to give back the money the priests had given me. Never had I wanted to take their tainted money but I certainly didn’t want a reminder of what I had did. When they refused, I threw it on the temple floor and left.

He died. There is perhaps, not a more famous death. It was almost a relief as he was no longer suffering on the cross or at their hands. His body hung mangled and I was empty. Mary would have said to let the guilt go, as it was what he asked. Neither of us knew it would lead to his torment. I couldn’t let it go. When Jesus died, I died with him. My guilt was my only friend and the only way I could honor it was to leave the world a better place – one without me in it. I hung myself in a tree that Jesus and I had often talked under. No one missed me.

Some Angelus and Everto over the years have tried to say it was what he wanted. They try to make me see that I was not to blame. I should have known what they would do, how they hated Jesus. I should have tried harder to talk him out of it. There are days when I see what people believe and those who follow his words truly and faithfully give me comfort. I also see how his words are twisted to make a personal cause seem more worthwhile. I will never know if his death helped spread the words of love and kindness especially since Jesus disappeared after we spoke.

Jesus and I died close to each other. Our hearings that determined whether we were angelus or everto were around the same time. Piton de la Fournaise on the island of Reunion is in the Indian Ocean. It’s a very active volcano and also where our hearings are held. That is where we met. Lava was coursing around us and my eyes connected with my most treasured friend.

“Rabbi, you will never know the depth of my sorrow and shame,” I spoke rapidly to him. Those who guide new souls were desperate to keep us apart.

He smiled sadly and shook his head at me. “You will never understand the depth of my love for you and the time I spent as your friend.”

“I can never take back what I did,” I told him. “But I will spend my time in the afterlife trying.”

If possible his face got even sadder and he put a familiar hand on my shoulder. “Do what you must. But that will not repair your heart.”

Jesus was taken to a chamber in the volcano after that to wait for his hearing. It was then he disappeared. Many think I had something to do with that. As black as my heart is even I do not possess that kind of power or influence.

“Do what you must. But that will not repair your heart.” It was the last thing he said to me. Though I have tried to make up for what I did as I roamed earth these last two thousand years, he was right. I could never repair my heart and make what I did better.

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