On betrayal: What if it had bounced off?

…the devil having already hurled into the heart of Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, with a force so that it stayed there, to betray Him…. (Luke 22:3)

It stopped me mid-sentence when I read that the devil had hurled something so hard into someone’s heart that it stayed there. It lodged inside and spread like cancer. It was a targeted assault. That’s some scary-ass spiritual stuff.

Many of us have heard of the betrayal of the Christ by Judas Iscariot. Judas was the treasurer for Jesus’ group of disciples, probably good with money, records say deceitful, and importantly, he was someone’s son. A beloved son? A neglected one? Did the apple not fall far from the tree? We don’t know. But we do know that every child comes into this world innocent and full of promise - and with a target on their chest.

What I have been wondering about since is this: What if it had bounced off? What if the devil hurled that diseased thought with all his fury, intending it to penetrate, but it just didn’t? What if it hit and slid to the ground like a dead grenade? Is that even possible? Can a force so dark and powerful be thwarted, even if we are specifically targeted?

I think so! My next thought was about the “full armor of God” we are advised to put on. I have read and known about this since childhood… in the abstract. But wow, did this hurling business change it for me. Paul, after his spiritual awakening, wrote about the armor of God, and included the “breastplate of righteousness ” (Ephesians 6). Doesn’t that just sound so 'religiousy': the Breastplate of Righteousness? But what if Judas had armed himself with righteousness? I don’t think that devastating thought would have sunk in. The devil could have hurled it, and maybe it would have knocked Judas on his very at-risk backside, but the “breastplate of righteousness” would have protected him… and Jesus. We don’t act in a vacuum. Ever (even when we wish we did).

But righteousness? Do I really want it? I am a free-spirit dear reader. If you asked anyone close to me if I am a good rule-follower, they would break into raucous laughter. And I am willful. They might not laugh about that one, but knowing glances would be exchanged. Isn’t righteousness old-fashioned? Restrictive? Religious? I live in grace! I live in freedom! Or do I? Without righteousness, I am a turtle on its back. I am unprepared. I am without even skin. Vulnerable, and not in the strong way, just in the target-on-my-chest way.

But isn’t this extreme? Wasn’t Judas some sort of unique, meant-to-betray-the-Christ kind of guy? Weren’t all the cast of characters in scripture special… other… not like us? I don’t think so. As near as I can tell, they were just ordinary people going about their day-to-day lives. They came to the same kinds of crossroads we do throughout the course of our lives; some major bends in the road, some so minor you would miss them if you weren’t looking. Judas could have been me, and I don’t ever want to be that heartsick. I know from experience the sorrow that comes from having harmed someone. Not just hurt them, harmed them. Satan took Judas’ attention, then his intentions, then his actions, then his peace of mind, then his life. No thank you.

So back to righteousness? What is it, and how do we access it if we want it? Check back for a deeper dive on that one. Food for thought: as a piece of armor, the breastplate protects the vital organs.

Happy New Year: Shields up!