Betrayal: The Game in Which No One Wins

Have you ever been betrayed – or at least felt like you had been? We’ve probably experienced this at one time or another, and perhaps even been guilty of it ourselves.

 

Betrayal comes in many forms. It might be a trusted friend reneging on a promise or revealing something shared in confidence. A colleague at work ‘throwing you under the bus’ when something goes awry, rather than shouldering the blame.

 

Even greater forms of betrayal might include parents divorcing, violating their unspoken commitment to provide a stable, safe home for their children. A spouse’s infidelity, shattering the vows of faithfulness made years before. A prominent religious leader, revered by many, entangled in terrible scandal. 

 

The realm of politics seems a particular hotbed for betrayal, with allegiances both forged and destroyed by expedience and personal ambition. But this is hardly new. A classic example: Roman dictator Julius Caesar and his back-stabbing buddy, Brutus. As William Shakespeare wrote, “Et tu, Brute?” 

 

Stained glass depiction of the apostle Peter
and a Roman centurion at Trinity Church,
St. Simons Island, Ga.

No matter who or how, the pain of being betrayed can be intense – and long-lasting. Partly because acts of betrayal usually are perpetrated by someone close. We could think of many examples, but none surpass that of Jesus Christ and Judas Iscariot. 

Judas was one of Jesus’ 12 closest followers. He was highly trusted, given responsibility for the little band’s treasury. But apparently that wasn’t enough. After objecting to a woman lavishly anointing Jesus with very expensive perfume, Judas “went to the chief priests and asked, ‘What are you willing to give me if I hand Him over to you?’ So they counted out for him 30 silver coins. From then on Judas watched for an opportunity to hand Him over” (Matthew 26:6-16).

 

Can you imagine? Having been in immediate proximity with Jesus for the better part of three years, enjoying His friendship, watching Him and hearing His teachings, and yet being willing to betray Him for 30 silver coins? This heinous act led to Jesus’ crucifixion not long afterward. And overwhelmed with remorse, Judas took his own life by hanging. 

 

Thinking about Judas Iscariot, we might be quick to reason, ‘Well, I could never do something like that!’ Are you sure?

 

Because in the biblical accounts, Judas Iscariot wasn’t the only betrayer. In the garden of Gethsemane, after Jesus was arrested by Roman officials and the religious leaders, we read, "Then the disciples deserted Him and fled” (Matthew 26:56).

 

There was more betrayal to come. Two of the disciples, John and Peter, decided to follow the procession to the mock trial at a distance. Peter, standing in a courtyard near enough to observe the proceedings, three times emphatically denied knowing Jesus or being one of His followers. After the third denial that he punctuated with expletives, “Immediately a rooster crowed. Then Peter remembered the word Jesus had spoken: ‘Before the rooster crows, you will disown Me three times.’ And he went outside and wept bitterly” (Matthew 26:69-75).

 

The good news is that later, after His resurrection, Jesus restored the repentant Peter by asking him to affirm – three times – his love for Him. The apostle never again betrayed his Lord, becoming a pillar of the early Church and being martyred for his bold and devoted service.

 

Imagine the strong, impulsive, proud Peter blubbering like a baby upon confronting his own cowardly betrayal? If this stalwart follower of Christ could turn his back on Him, what makes us think we couldn’t do the same?  

Years ago, poet Luci Shaw composed a brief poem called “Judas, Peter” that poignantly describes to this sobering reality:

"because we are all
betrayers, taking
silver and eating
body and blood and asking
(guilty) is it I and hearing
him say yes
it would be simple for us all
to rush out
and hang ourselves
but if we find grace
to cry and wait
after the voice of morning
has crowed in our ears
clearly enough
to break our hearts
he will be there
to ask us each again
do you love me?"

 

As 1 Corinthians 10:12 warns us, “So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!” In one way or another, we’ve likely all betrayed the Lord, whether by what we said or did, or by what we chose not to say or do. 

 

However, as the poem reminds us, God’s grace is always greater than our betrayal – if we come to Him in repentance. This is why 1 John 1:9 assures us, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

 

Even better, while we might be tempted to betray our Savior and Lord, He has promised never to betray us. “…because God has said, ‘Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you’” (Hebrews 13:5). 

Three R’s for Wrongdoing

Back in 1960, pint-sized songstress Brenda Lee had a hit tune called, “I’m Sorry.” In the lyrics, she was “so sorry,” and asked whoever she was singing to, “please accept my apology.” I’m not sure about Ms. Lee, but experience has taught me that when people say they’re sorry, they don’t always mean what we think they mean. There are, we might say, “three R’s for wrongdoing.”

The first R is regret. Confronted with their wrongs, without a defense for their actions, some people react with regret. This is like the child that stares at the floor and mutters, “Sorry.” Lack of sincerity is pretty obvious. The same goes for adults. They may utilize better body language, but in essence they’re saying, “Sorry I got caught. I should have done a better job of covering my tracks.” Not a lot of genuine sorrow in this “sorry” response.

Cain, Adam and Eve’s first son, took this approach after killing his brother, Abel, in a fit of sibling jealousy. God asked, “Where is your brother, Abel?” Cain shrugged his shoulders and replied, ”I don’t know. Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Genesis 4:1-9). Young people today would put it this way: “Oh, man! Busted!” Cain might have been thinking, “You can’t get away with anything around here!”

The second R is remorse. Not necessarily regretting the actions, but hating the consequences. Still not inclined to admit the seriousness of our wrongdoing, we can feel remorse because we know we’re going to the penalty box. Cain used this kind of response, too. Cursed by God to become a lifelong fugitive, without fruitful results from his labors, the first homicide perpetrator groaned, “My punishment is more than I can bear. Today (God) you are driving me from the land, and I will be hidden from your presence; I will be a restless wanderer on the earth…” (Genesis 4:13-14).

Nowhere in this account do we see Cain acknowledging the gravity of his crime, or feeling the least bit mournful about taking the life of his sibling. Cain’s only concern was the severe punishment he would have to endure.

Maybe the best biblical example of remorse was Judas, who betrayed Jesus. Matters had escalated beyond what he'd anticipated. The Scriptures tell us, “When Judas, who had betrayed him, saw that Jesus was condemned, he was seized with remorse and returned the thirty silver coins to the chief priests and elders. ‘I have sinned,’ he said, ‘for I have betrayed innocent blood'” (Matthew 27:3-4).

Even then, however, Judas’ “I’m sorry” was self-centered. Realizing returning the money wouldn’t stop the chain of events, the next verses states, he “threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged himself.” Overcome with remorse and unable to cope with the guilt, Judas took his own life to stop the pain.

The final R is repentance. Not only recognizing a wrong that’s been committed, but also being genuinely sorrowful for it. The root of the word, “repent,” means, as one dictionary defines it, “to turn from sin and dedicate oneself to the amendment of one's life.”

Repentance is the “I’m sorry” God accepts. The apostle Paul expressed it this way: “Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death. See what this godly sorrow has produced in you: what earnestness, what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what alarm, what longing, what concern, what readiness to see justice done” (2 Corinthians 7:10-11).

This form of “I’m sorry” doesn’t apply just to those who have been living apart from the Lord and need to establish a new relationship with Him – although it’s a necessary first step. Repentance applies to all of us who profess to be Christ followers, regardless of how long that has been.

The apostle John, in recording visions he had received from God, addressed this point with the church at Ephesus. Affirming the believers there, he observed, “I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance….. You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary.” However, this was classic “good news, bad news.” Because then John wrote, “You have forsaken the love you had at first. Consider how far you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place” (Revelation 2:1-5).

The Ephesians had been doing good, working hard, and persevering in faith. Then came the big “BUT.” They had “lost their first love,” as another translation puts it. Their zeal and dedication had wavered, and they had apparently fallen into spiritual compromise.

We’d be wise to consider this admonition ourselves, because walking consistently and faithfully with the Lord isn’t easy. Even if we did well yesterday, that doesn’t mean we’ll do well today – or tomorrow. As we’re warned in 1 Corinthians 10:12, “So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!”

Maybe if we endeavor never to lose our first love, the brokenness of repentance might not be needed nearly as often.

Not Undeserved, But Ill-Deserved

Among the singular distinctions that set apart the Christian faith from any other belief system is the concept of grace. In all other religious philosophies, in one way or another, it’s a matter of earning or proving worthy of something, whether it’s blessing, eternal life, or well-being in some other form. It might be viewed as an outworking of karma, good works or legalism, but basically it’s a matter of getting what you deserve – and trying how to figure out how to be good enough.

Biblical grace, however, is in many ways the antithesis. It’s unmerited; actually receiving what we don’t deserve. As Ephesians 2:8-9 states, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – not by works, so that no one can boast.” But recently I heard a statement that provided one of those “aha” moments we occasionally experience, helping me to grasp the concept of grace in an even more wondrous way.

I’ve always understood grace as “undeserved favor from God,” but a speaker at a breakfast I attended observed that God’s grace is not so much undeserved as it is “ill-deserved.”

Look at it this way: Imagine walking along a city street one night, headed to a favorite restaurant for dinner when a panhandler approaches you, asking for a handout. This individual has done nothing to deserve your charity, but even though it’s not your standard practice, you decide to give him two one-dollar bills that you retrieve from the front of your wallet. He hasn’t done anything to merit your generosity – it’s undeserved, offered by you out of compassion and kindness.

However, suppose this beggar, rather than politely asking for some money, came toward you cursing and screaming, spitting in your face, and throwing mud on the nice clothes you’ve just purchased for the special evening out with your spouse or date. This person has given you nothing but insults and abuse, and yet you pull out your wallet and graciously offer the two dollars despite such uncalled-for, unacceptable behavior. That gift would not be undeserved. It would be ill-deserved, because if anything his actions merited a stern reaction or a quick call for a law enforcement officer.

In reality, regardless of whether we’re now ardent followers of Jesus Christ, nominal believers, or outspoken, vehement atheists, we’ve all essentially done that to Him in varying degrees and with different levels of “enthusiasm.”

It’s not a case of attempting to become “worthy,” or of “cleaning up our act.” The Bible makes that abundantly clear: “There is no one righteous, not even one; there is no one who understands, no one who seeks God. All have turned away, they have together become worthless; there is no one who does good, not even one” (Romans 3:10-12). And just in case we suspect something might have gotten lost or misinterpreted in the translation, another verse makes a similar declaration: “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).

While we might be tempted to apply those indictments to others, people whose behavior runs contrary to our values, God is essentially saying to each of us, “Hey, don’t look around. That includes you!” I’ve read through the Bible a number of times, and have yet to identify even a single exception to this rule.

We can read about Judas Iscariot horrifically betraying Jesus, or how the apostle Peter boldly denied Him three times on the eve of His crucifixion. But if we’re honest, we’ve each done so much more in our own unique ways. None of us is a stranger to such denial and betrayal.

And yet, the Lord stands before us with the incomprehensible offer of grace – not just undeserved, but completely ill-deserved. We’re like the brazen, 100-pound weakling kicking sand in the face of the hefty bodybuilder on the beach. We don’t deserve favor of any kind; in fact, what we’re rightly entitled to is wrath and harsh judgment.

As Romans 6:23 tells us, “For the wages of sin (what we deserve) is death, but the gift of God (what is ill-deserved) is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (parentheses mine). Maybe this is why the words and simple, yet profound message of “Amazing Grace” resonate so deeply for many of us. 

Wanting What We Want – and Mad When We Don’t Get It

This Phillip Martin illustration shows conflict at its
worst - two people determined to get what they want.

My friend Brad, an attorney, specializes in mediation and conflict resolution. Factors that contribute to conflict are complex and diverse, but in many cases he has found a singular, common cause – people don’t get what they want.

Think about it: Marriages descend into turmoil because one or both spouses insist on getting their own way and become furious when they don’t. Close friends part because expectations aren’t met. They risk destroying loving and long-term relationships because they don’t get what they want.

Churches split because quarreling factions arise, one side set on a certain course and another side insisting on a different way. Professional athletes angrily accuse owners or management of “disrespecting” them because their demands aren’t met. In both scenarios the complaint is much the same: “We’re not getting what we want.”

When we think “conflict,” many of us turn our thoughts almost immediately to Washington, D.C., where Democrats and Republicans choose to take positions of arrogance and stubbornness over compromise and mutual understanding. Leaders of both parties engage in bitter conflict – to the detriment of the American people – all because of the belief they’re not getting what they want.

Of course this is nothing new. Throughout the history of mankind, conflicts of all magnitudes have spawned battles and wars because people didn’t get what they wanted. Look at any major war and you’ll find an element of this to some degree.

Fame and fortune offer no antidotes for conflict. Celebrated comic duos like Abbott and Costello, Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin, Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, all experienced intense conflicts, even if not as highly publicized as such clashes are in today’s media. The same has been the case through the years with many of the great musical groups, including the Beatles, and Simon and Garfunkel. So-called “perfect Hollywood couples” announce separations due to “irreconcilable differences.” Translation: “We’re not getting what we want.”

We even find this reality represented over and over in the Bible, which doesn’t sugarcoat such strife. “I want what I want” conflicts started with Cain and Abel. They continued with Abraham and his nephew, Lot; Joseph and his jealous brothers; Samson and Delilah; David and Saul; Barnabas and Paul. And let’s not forget the classic example: Judas Iscariot.

James 4:1-2 tells us, “What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you? You want something but don’t get it. You kill and covet, but you cannot have what you want. You quarrel and fight. You do not have, because you do not ask God.”

So what’s the solution? Like conflicts themselves, resolving them usually isn’t easy or simple. But the passage above points out an important principle. When we don’t get what we want, we should appeal to God for it rather than trying to get it through our own feeble and faulty efforts.

And if He says no, if our prayers aren’t answered – at least not in the way we want – we should be willing to accept that He knows us better than we know ourselves, and that His plans are better than ours.

After all, as 1 Timothy 6:6 states, “godliness with contentment is great gain.” This might seem unrealistic in our “it’s all about me” culture, which seems to dismiss contentment as foolish, impractical, even weak. But it’s God’s way; and His way is always better.