Some things you do just to see
How bad they'll make you feel
These are the opening lyrics to the Mountain Goats song “Cry for Judas.”
The song asks us to find sympathy for, to “cry,” for Judas Iscariot, one of Jesus of Nazareth's original twelve disciples and the one who famously betrayed him by revealing where Jesus was hiding so the Romans could hang him on the cross. The story of Judas’ deception reveals a profound truth, suffering, and opportunity we are all met with when we are let down by those close to us.
Judas was one of Jesus’ most trusted disciples and even though Jesus himself foresaw that Judas would reveal him to his captor, he considered Judas a friend. For thirty pieces of silver, Judas would sell out his Jesus and teacher. The Biblical text suggests that Judas may have been possessed by Satan, but whether or not it was possession that provoked Judas or greed and self-interest -- Judas did an awful thing. He provided the information that sealed his dear friend’s fate to a painful death. Some suggest that acts of betrayal, lying, greed, and violence all stem from a false self – a possession of sorts, literal or not. The Buddha would suggest that reality is actually perfect and it’s our unreality (negative actions and thoughts) that keep us sealed off from recognizing the full truth of existence.
We must recognize that while Judas committed the betrayal, he isn’t only his betrayal. The collection of our actions defines us but there is a vast array of actions in the course of a life – there’s a space for learning, self-improvement, and forgiveness.
As the title of the song suggests we must learn to “Cry for Judas” despite his trespasses. We can feel strongly and hold him accountable while recognizing that only a truly troubled person would do such a thing. Feeling sorrow for someone is not letting them off the hook; it’s seeing and acknowledging the pain that leads them to perform such a terrible act, but not freeing them of that accountability.
In the song, the narrator goes on to say
I am just a broken machine
And I do things that I don’t really mean
We have all betrayed and been betrayed before. It’s a universal experience for us all. We in one way or another are ‘broken machines,’ who do things they ‘don’t really mean.’ It’s a matter of navigating that space with grace and patience that is kind to not only the trespasser but to yourself. By peacefully navigating challenging situations we can allow ourselves to maintain our center and not torture ourselves with struggles put on us by others.
In the literature, Jesus says, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” He forgives the Jews who sentenced him to death, the Romans who put him on the cross, and everyone who wished for his death. So this begs the song’s question: Can we forgive? Forgiveness isn’t reconciling. Forgiveness is not forgetting or excusing or giving permission to continue harmful actions. When we forgive we aren’t reaccepting someone into our life; we free them and ourselves of holding onto any negative feelings towards them. We remove the second arrow and no longer continually harm ourselves with these feelings towards this person.
Who is there in your life who you’ve let down? Who’s let you down? Some of us have been let down by the same person many times. Perhaps we’ve even been that person who’s consistently let someone else down. Can we reflect on these experiences and find the center of compassion? And, in finding that for them, can we then free ourselves of their acts as well?