“Ah, here comes Judas again. What a fool. Why is he back? We have no more business with him. Or time for his folly.”
“Wait, wait!” cried Judas, breathless as he entered the room brimming with elders and chief priests. “Jesus! He’s innocent. He’s done nothing wrong.” Judas placed his hands on his knees, catching his breath from sprinting to the temple.
“Judas, leave us. It’s done, the whole counsel has agreed. Your, um, friend, Jesus is condemned to death.”
“No please – please! I shouldn’t have betrayed him to you, I was wrong. He has committed no crime.”
Smirks and laughter trickled around the room. “Oh, you were wrong? Why would we care? That’s yours to deal with. Jesus has been bound and already delivered to Pilate.” Steely eyes glared at Judas with one final command, “Get out.”
Judas scanned the room, heat filling his chest, looking into the eyes of each elder, each chief priest, for just one to hear his plea. But the men had already moved on, conversing with excitement about Jesus and Pilate and a death sentence.
Judas reached into the small bag tied about his waist and grabbed the handful of coins. His fingers nearly burned at the touch, and he threw the coins to the ground as he turned to run from the room. The sound of metal clinking across the marble floor taunted him with despair.
“What a fool. Jesus, King of the Jews! Let’s see how Judas feels in a few hours when his ‘king’ is but a grisly display of shame hanging on that cross.”
“Yeah, some king,” another elder responded, “with some followers. Judas is a weakling. THIS is who Jesus picked for his disciple – a double-minded, groveling betrayer. Let them all wither and die.”
“What do we do with these coins?” asked another, plucking them from the floor.
“It’s blood money, we can’t use it in the temple.” Considering for a moment, “Use it to buy that potter’s field, the useless one right outside of town, we need a burial place for strangers and refugees. This king of the Jews has lived and will die in obscurity, his only legacy providing a burial spot for outcasts.”
The elders and priests went along their way, humming with anticipation of what lay ahead for the condemned man, Jesus.
30 pieces of silver. In that time, it was the lowly price paid for a a slave’s accidental death. In an upside down kingship, Jesus lived and died that of a slave, a servant.
Lord Jesus, we can’t quite comprehend it, but thank you for dying for us. Throughout your life and especially in your death, you were rejected and shamed, your life given for 30 pieces of silver, an inconsequential amount in those days. The money exchanged for your life bought a burial place for strangers – refugees – the lowest of the low. Outcasts, probably poor, probably not welcomed or taken care of, who possibly died of sickness when they had no one to care for them. Even in your physical death that’s who you provided for. Give us the grace to put our faith in you, who was raised on the third day, and seated at the right hand of God. May we remember how much we’ve been cared for and provided for by you, our true King.
He did not come to be served, but to serve, and to offer his life as a ransom for many. Mark 10:45