Judas Tries to Explain

This wasn’t the easiest post to write, and what I’ve shared is only meant to bring some light to the story of the ultimate betrayal in human history. —Bryan

My name is Judas Iscariot, and I betrayed my Lord. It really had nothing to do with avarice or greed. The money was fine, don’t get me wrong, but that isn’t why I turned him in to the authorities. I simply did what they couldn’t. I wanted to force Jesus’ hand, so he had to drive the Romans out of our country. I was mistaken, I see that now.

Jesus loved each of us, including me. But I didn’t see it at the time.

When he knelt to wash my feet, I was deeply disturbed. When he stripped down to his underwear, I admit I had some serious doubts. Behaving like a common slave wasn’t really in my thinking. It would take extra work to shape him, and to deaden such strange behavior. But it would be worth it in the end, if only Jesus would cooperate.

In my mind I knew that Jesus only needed the right moment to become the next ruler of Israel. That was his destiny, and I was going to help him bring it to pass. I knew that God had called me–this was my purpose. I would be the kingmaker, and Jesus would certainly reward me.

Some have said that Satan was inside me.

But I hardly noticed. Instead, I was filled with excitement. Finally, the other disciples would come to my side, and together we could make it happen. Enough kneeling, no more groveling–we were going to rule Israel and end the wicked Roman occupation. I truly believed this. He was our Messiah, our deliverer.

The tricky part was to convince Jesus, to manipulate him if necessary, to take control.

He had to see the opportunity that was waiting for him. He was already immensely popular among the people. We could quite easily turn all of this enthusiasm into a full-blown insurrection. But we obviously needed him to lead us, and I could help him find his way. I knew we could do it. This was God’s will for me.

My plan was simple–after I met with the Pharisees, I’d lead them to the garden where Jesus was staying. They insisted on an armed escort, just in case there was trouble among the disciples. I suppose that was prudent, my part in all of this was simply to give Jesus a kiss on the cheek, to signify that he was the one to the soldiers.

I assumed he would resist and fight. I was very wrong.

Nothing went as planned. Jesus didn’t take charge, and he certainly didn’t overthrow the government. As a matter of fact, you could say that the opposite happened; he was silent and refused to answer most of their questions. I did hear him say, “My kingdom is not of this world.” I should have listened.

I realized way too late, that I shed innocent blood. I went back to the priests who hired me, and I insisted they take back the silver. They refused. I threw the bag at their feet and left the temple. Ugly thoughts now filled my mind, and I knew without a doubt that I was completely lost.

Punched in the Face

Learning how to forgive

Once I was punched in the face while preaching. At the time I was an evangelist with SOS Ministries in 1987. I was leading a group to Haight/Ashbury St. in San Francisco. I remember it was really busy, and it was a good team, and they were excited to take their church to the streets.

Haight/Ashbury was the place the “summer of love” kicked off, it peaked in 1968. It has a certain sense of notoriety, and even in 1983 it still had a dubious reputation as a center of the counter-culture. “A cult a day is born in San Francisco,” a pastor friend once shared with me.

Normally the neighborhood where I took a team would direct me on how to preach. Tonight especially I focused on God’s love for sinful people.

That message seemed appropriate for this place, especially on this street. God loves these people very much.

A young man came forward. He told me that he was a backslidden Christian, and his father was an Assembly of God pastor. He had run away from home. Suddenly he began to weep. The entire team seemed to lean forward and I know they were praying earnestly for him. It seemed to me that he was teetering on the brink.

His punch however came unexpectedly.

His fist hit me square in the nose. My eyes began to water. Oddly enough he took a step back and began to really cry out. My team wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but I hoped they prayed even harder. I sort of gasped and tried to shake it off. Someone must have called the police.

The Holy Spirit was very much present, both convicting and comforting each of us.

One or two minutes went by and suddenly he stopped sobbing and he became really angry. He took a step and then tried to kick me in the stomach, but I dropped the mic and caught his foot. I was ready for him this time.

About 20 minutes went by before SFPD showed up and asked if I wanted to press charges. I thought for a bit, but deep down I knew that wasn’t the will of my Father. Maybe I should of, I don’t know. But I thought about my own sin and couldn’t judge no one.

The Father was reaching him while teaching me!

God loves His prodigal children very much, He understands the guilt and shame (and frustration) they feel. The Father however is always watching and waiting. He works through life’s circumstances to lead them home. Each belongs to Him. He continues far past what we think is possible. He will never give up.

1 John 3:16

I suddenly saw a “wounded” brother, very confused and quite angry. Not with me, the team, or the music–but with God who created him, and died for him.

At that moment I just happened to be God’s love for this prodigal.

     John Stott

Under Attack

One of the clearest explanations of a believer’s salvation is a well of clear sweet water. A well is a combination of effort and grace. A well must be dug, but it’s nothing without water. It’s work but it’s grace. You can dig 1000 feet, but without hitting water it’s all in vain. 

The walk of a disciple depends on the Holy Spirit. When we’re filled with Him, our life becomes supernatural. Without the presence, we stagger through the arid desert, and that means desperation. We get terribly thirsty when we can no longer draw from the “wells of salvation.” 

And of course, there is a twist when our enemy attacks. 

Our wells must be protected. We dare not get complacent. The Word takes us back to when the sworn enemy, the Philistines came against Isaac, but not with spears or chariots. They had a tactic, and it seemed to work surprisingly well. 

In Genesis 26, we can read how it all goes down. 

“So, the Philistines filled up all of Isaac’s wells with dirt. These were the wells that had been dug by the servants of his father, Abraham.” 

Gen. 26:15 

Isaac’s wells are filled with dirt. They’re unusable, and the water was no longer available to water his flocks. Now water is everything. Without water, Isaac was forced to move to another location. His flocks needed a well. 

A little background: 

God had blessed Isaac in the middle of a severe famine. Genesis 26 explains the wealth of Isaac. What he planted he reaped 100-fold. His flocks multiplied, and all because of the Lord’s favor. (Gen. 26:12-14) 

The account tells us that the Philistines were envious and jealous. They coveted his wealth. They hated Isaac, and that was filling up the wells of water with dirt. (Some suggest that these wells would be purposefully contaminated with rotting animals.) 

The water-rights were constantly being challenged out of jealousy. At least four wells were filled up by the Philistines. Their efforts were disturbing but quite effective. 

I’ve been thinking about my own “well.”

I know the enemy hates me; I’m certain of that. He wants to destroy me. My well of salvation is Satan’s target. I guess he works on shutting it down, and even works on contaminating my well. 

The last two weeks I’ve started to doubt my salvation. Being 65 now I think about death and standing before the throne and being judged by the Lord. I hear the whispers of the accuser and I get frightened.  

But I somehow keep standing. 

I then think of God’s promises. And that’s when I break out my shovel and keep my salvation open. I regularly need to do this. I have encouragers who speak into my life, (if I listen). 

God’s supernatural power is given, and I discern the enemy. I must keep my salvation open and full of water.  I need a good shovel.

The living water of God will never run dry. It fully satisfies my thirsty soul. 

John 7:38 

His Oil, Your Head

Back by Popular Demand

I have to admit, I always wondered what this verse in Psalm 23 meant. I thought “He anoints my head with oil” was a nice poetic phrase for God blessing David. But as I delved deeper into the context and explored different interpretations, a beautiful and profound meaning unfolded before my eyes.

First of all the act of anointing with oil holds significant cultural and spiritual symbolism in biblical times. It was a practice to anoint guests as a sign of honor and welcome, especially in lavish feasts and celebrations.

Anointing with oil also had medicinal purposes, as it could soothe and heal various ailments. (Now that’s interesting, I thought.)

In the context of Psalm 23, the phrase “He anoints my head with oil” takes on a deeper metaphorical meaning. It signifies God’s abundant blessings, His provision, and His care for His people. Just as a host anoints the head of a guest as an act of honor and hospitality, God lovingly anoints us with blessings and favor.

Moreover, the act of anointing with oil has spiritual connotations. In ancient religious rituals, anointing with oil was a sign of consecration, setting apart someone or something for a holy purpose.

This verse also portrays a practical picture of medicinal shepherding.

In biblical times, shepherds used oil to treat and protect the sheep’s wounds and keep insects away from their heads. By anointing our heads with oil, God brings healing and comfort to our brokenness, soothing our hurts and protecting us from the turmoil of life.

Sheep often can do harmful things to themselves as they try to find relief from flies and ticks.

Their ears and eyes can be targets for tormenting insects as well.

Sheep have been known to bash their heads against rock walls to dislodge flies from their ears, noses, and eyes. A good shepherd watches closely over his flock. He watches over them carefully.

A good shepherd knows that poured out oil forms a barrier of protection against these things that would try to destroy the sheep.

Have you ever asked God to anoint your head with oil?

Psalm 23 as a whole beautifully paints a picture of God as our loving and caring Shepherd, guiding us, providing for us, and protecting us. The imagery of anointing with oil further illuminates the depth of His love and the extent of His care. It reminds us that we are chosen and cherished by God, and that His blessings are abundant and unending.

But ask yourself these questions. Do you have times of mental torment? Do the worrisome thoughts invade your mind over and over? Do you beat your head against a wall trying to stop them?

The Holy Spirit can come with His endless supply of oil!

“You prepare a table before me
    in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
    my cup overflows.”

Psalm 23:5, ESV

Oh how He loves you!