The Opioid Epidemic: An Opportunity for Christ-like Compassion

The coming of Divine Mercy Sunday this year prompted me to contemplate Judas Iscariot and the action that severed his relationship with God. And, now that I’ve given the matter some thought, I no longer believe that Judas’ betrayal of Jesus was his most egregious sin.
In the interest of clarity, I want to state at the outset that this opinion is in no way influenced by the Gnostic interpretation that Judas was enlisted by Jesus to initiate the events that ultimately led to his sacrifice. There simply is no basis for that argument because nothing that we know about Jesus supports the idea that he would exploit another person’s loyalty by asking him to engage in conspiracy, deceit, and facilitation of murder.
No, Judas’ treachery and ultimate betrayal of Jesus were unquestionably evil and likely motivated by internal demons—i.e., greed, jealousy, and possibly even anger. Still, despite the inherent wickedness of Judas’ infidelity, he did not commit his most grave offense until he began to feel remorse for what he had done. Arrogance in the guise of anguish and regret drove Judas to take his own life; and that final act was his most serious transgression against God.
Suicide in response to one’s own wrongdoing implies that the individual believes his sin is beyond forgiveness—even forgiveness borne of Divine Mercy. Such an assumption is pridefulness at its worst because it presumes to place a limit on God’s benevolence. Moreover, by enacting this ultimate form of self-hatred Judas unjustly took upon himself the role of his soul’s judge and jury—a privilege that belongs entirely to God. Despite Luke’s assertion that Satan entered into Judas just prior to his committing his betrayal (Luke 22:3), it was here that Lucifer’s pridefulness truly overpowered him.
Judas couldn’t claim ignorance in defense of his folly because Scripture abounds with evidence of the enormity of God’s mercy. Take, for example, God’s response to Abraham’s plea for Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 18:24-33). Abraham dared to plumb the depths of Divine compassion when he asked God whether he would spare the two debaucherous cities if he could find living there fifty, thirty, or even just ten righteous souls. God assured him that he would. Thus, Judas should have trusted that the remaining speck of righteousness that drove him to contrition would have been enough to save him.
Moreover, even if the words of Old Testament couldn’t convince Judas of God’s love of humankind, his place at the Last Supper should have confirmed it. Jesus knew what Judas was planning when he gathered his apostles in the upper room. Yet, he did not ask Judas to leave before the breaking of the bread. Rather, he included Judas in his sacrifice. The “you” for whom Jesus was giving up his body and pouring out his blood included everyone who was in the room—even the man who ultimately betrayed him. When Judas committed suicide, he effectively said “no thank you” to this most precious gift.
There is no greater sin against God than the denial of his love; no greater insult than the refusal of his mercy. We cannot be like Judas and allow false humility and self-hatred to prevent us from accepting God’s grace. Instead, we must open our hearts to the love and mercy that rain down upon us from the Cross. In love, Jesus died that we might live. In accepting that love, we live so that he will never die.