As we are in the midst of another season of Lent, and approaching Easter, I am reposting this poem I wrote a few years ago.
The poem is about Judas’ betrayal. This betrayal led to the guards finding Jesus, arresting him, and eventually his death.
If it wasn’t Judas, though, it would have been someone else. It could have been me. Or you. God’s plan will be carried out. But how painful to be the betrayed and the betrayer. Why did he do it? What is quite remarkable is how Jesus responds to Judas. Even though Jesus must have known what would happen, he still kept Judas near him as a disciple.
Judas betrayed Jesus for 30 pieces of silver. No amount of money is worth such a betrayal (to Jesus or to anyone).
However, if we are honest, we know we also do betray Jesus. Have we denied Jesus? We betray him. Have we neglected to love, serve, live, in Jesus’ name? We betray him.
“There is no one righteous, not even one…” (Romans 3:10). Even so, all of us who are unrighteous, all are offered the gift of reconciliation to God Himself. We are all offered the hope of restoration and redemption. That’s love, that’s hope… that’s Jesus. That’s a gift. We have hope for an abundant life while on earth. We have hope for eternal life spent with God.
As we are in the midst of Lent and draw closer to Easter, let us give thanks to God for his tremendous (words do not adequately describe what he did) sacrifice and gift: the gift of life he gave for us, so we may experience joy on earth and be with him in all eternity. It is humbling to think God’s son would die for me, and humanity; I am thankful (and thankful hardly seems adequate to describe it). Thank you, Lord, for your amazing, precious gift.
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Scar on the Cheek
The kiss on the cheek
planted swift, turns
to thorny scratch, burns
long and thin, drips
red on black dirt.
Fragile petals live a breath
away, a thin vein from death.
Roses keep distant,
far from drawn swords
ready to impale petal-skin.
Repent and attempt
to pluck stems of
delicate short-lived beauty,
for arrangements in a vase,
that fragrance may erase
the scent of love’s demise.
But watch when red drips:
seeds bloom anew,
emit ethereal perfume, transform
into wild, vibrant, hybrid,
blood-red rose. Are you a rose?
Are you a thorn?
Or one scratched by scorn
of deceiver’s kiss?
Show me your scar.
© prasanta 7/20/2011
47 While he was still speaking a crowd came up, and the man who was called Judas, one of the Twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him, 48 but Jesus asked him, “Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?” – Luke 22:47-48
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