Written and performed by Delia Louise Scotch (February 2010)

The Betrayer

Introduction (optional)

Paenitentia– meaning regret, remorse, repentance. This powerful Latin word only begins to describe the soul-wrenching anguish and guilt felt by The Betrayer.  I have written the following poem based on a well-known Bible story, but from the eyes of The Betrayer himself.  

Have you ever acted upon impulse or sin nature, then come to regret it?  Now imagine knowing that your action would cause the death of the one who had nurtured you and cared for you for years.  Imagine feeling hopeless, unforgiveable, like you altered the future of the world and irreversibly damned your own soul. There is no existing thing on this earth that is an even exchange for one’s soul.  Jesus himself said in Mark 8:36-37, “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” 

When time is no more, what is left? Countless people have lived and died, their lives but a vapor.  Our short time on earth is nothing in comparison to the neverending life- or death- that awaits us after we breathe our last.

Matthew 26:24 “… woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born.”

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The Betrayer

by Delia Louise Scotch

I have walked ten thousand miles

With eleven brothers

And Another.

 I have seen one hundred works

Of a God-man from another world

Who reaches out to young boys and girls

And delivers all who hear His words.

I have shared all that I own

With my brothers who forsook their homes,

Yet somehow I don’t feel fulfilled

-the sacrifice is beyond my will.

 I have seen the joy He brings

To those set free

From chains of misery.

The things

They say,

The lives they lay

At his feet-

Why do that when you can be king!

Don’t get me wrong-

I love these men.

We’ve been through much; only we understand.

I don’t deny the power in Him,

I just don’t think that I fit in.

Jesus doesn’t work for me.

 Last week I met with Pharisees

Who made a little deal with me.

They told me to come back

with my decision,

possibly

Immediately.

It wasn’t a hard choice,

A yes was whispered in a hushed voice.

They offered me money,

Which I got none of when with the Man.

And I do like money.

Yesterday I sat on the second floor

Of a middle-class home

Situated near where the market people roam.

My secret lay unknown.

I was across from the God-man

As we drank wine and broke break.

We twelve brothers and our master dipping together,

Reclining together,

And then Jesus spoke to me:

“You are the one.”

He knew.  He knew my plans.

Of course the God-man knew my plans!

I could not look the Man in the eyes

For fear He’d see my soul and so despise

What He’d find therein.

My heart twisted and felt as if a dagger had driven through.

But suddenly, I felt no pain-

I felt no gain-

I felt not the rain –

As I left the eleven strangers and their leader.

 It was as if I had no soul.

My actions were involuntary,

My mind in a hazy silence.

The evil one carried

Me through that night.

I led the Pharisees

To a garden growing of lush grasses and gnarled trees,

Rough bark and delicate leaves

Rustling in the breeze,

All a deep shade of blue-black-green…

Barely shining, a reflection of the full moonlight

Pouring from the clear sky.

I was steered toward the Man, Joseph’s Son,

And upon the signal the capture was begun.

How willingly He gave in!

Where was the power I had once seen in Him?

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I don’t know when I was delivered from the oppression,

But I know feeling and thought were restored

Immediately yielding to remorse,

And it was too much to bear.

I tried to ignore, 

But my soul would not contend.

I could not comprehend 

Life with the consistent cries of the blood money

That lies 

In a sack to the left of my window.

So I stole a rope,

and hung myself.

Plain and simple.

Now I lie in the waters of fire

Wasting away but never gone completely.

I the life-liar,

I the one with the evil desires,

I the prideful,

I not mindful

Of the holy saving power in front of my eyes.

I, Judas Iscariot, now only see the dark, feel the pain, and hear the shrieks.

You, dear living soul, make not the same mistake as I.

You have a chance, 

Oh, dear soul, hear me from hell:

I fell.

Do not come here forever to die!

Is there anything worse than forever with me

With nothing to do but endure misery?

And nothing but thoughts of each second wasted,

And oh how sweet mercy tasted?…

 What would you do if you had eternity to think about how you should have lived your life?

One chance, dear soul.

You only have one chance.

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