Harmonizing the Accounts (03/01/26-03/02/26)

I’m going to start in the second half of our passage, because it raises matters that we need to resolve as best we can.  In the last two verses, Luke interjects an explanation of events for his readers.  They, after all, were not there.  Presumably, what he says here was in fact common knowledge to those in the room listening to Peter.  So, he supplies a very brief accounting of Judas’ demise.  The whole record of Judas is one of the most shocking, dismaying things in Scripture, a matter we will consider more at the end of the study.  But it disturbs as perhaps no other failure amongst God’s chosen disturbs.  It raises doubts that we must confront.  I find the same applies as we look at Luke’s explanation of how Judas responded to his own failure, as compared to the account given by Matthew.  They seem so at odds, but if they are at odds, then we have Scripture that is not in fact inerrant.  And if Scripture is not inerrant, we have serious issues for faith.  So, then, how do we find agreement between these two accounts of Judas’ death?

Matthew gives us rather more to consider in regards to that event.  His account is longer.  Mind you, in a fashion typical to historical accounts in that day, he includes conversations that he could not possibly have been privy to.  I’ll include my paraphrase of the account here, not that it’s especially erudite; just to have the reference.

Mt 27:3-10 – When Judas saw that Jesus had been condemned, he felt remorse and returned the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders.  He said, “I have sinned.  I have betrayed innocent blood.”  But they said, “What of it?  Deal with it yourself!”  And he threw the silver into the sanctuary and departed, going away and hanging himself.  The priests took the silver, but determined it was unlawful to put it in the treasury, being as it was the price of blood.  So they bought the Potter’s Field as a burial place for strangers, and for this reason it is called the Field of Blood even to this day.  This fulfilled the word of Jeremiah, who wrote, “They took the thirty pieces of silver, the price of the one whose price had been set by them, and gave them for the potter’s field, as the Lord directed me.”

And over against this, we have Luke telling us that he “acquired a field with the price of his wickedness; and falling headlong, burst open and his bowels gushed out.”  There are at least two, perhaps three issues that arise at first glance.  1) Matthew has the Judas throwing the money at the feet of the priests who hired him, with them purchasing the field, whereas Luke seems to say that he bought it himself.  2)  Matthew assigns the popular name of that field to its association with money paid for Jesus’ betrayal (and indirectly, for his death), whereas Luke says it was because Judas died there.  Now, I must note that while it does seem to be implied, Luke does not in fact say he died there.  He says he purchased a field, and he says he died.  So, hold that for consideration.  Finally, 3) Matthew says he hung himself, but Luke says he fell in such a way that he ruptured severely enough that his guts came out.

Now, I see that Hastings admits to finding great difficulty in reconciling these two accounts, and I can certainly understand it.  The fact of the matter is that it lies beyond our ability to arrive at a conclusive explanation which sets the matter beyond all doubt.  There is, however, one thing that we can and should set beyond all doubt.  Scripture is inerrant, being God-breathed.  There are, to be sure, certain minor discrepancies that have crept in due to scribal error, translation issues, or what have you, such that we must restrict that inerrancy to the original manuscripts, which are not in our possession.  But with such manuscript evidence as we do have, we find more than sufficient cause to accept that the text we have today is very much as it was when written.  And most translations take pains to point out those places in which doubts remain.  We have one such in this passage, actually.  It concerns what word is original in the note regarding how many were present.  Some manuscripts have hos, others hose.  The latter simply adds ei (if), to the former, and both have the same basic meaning of ‘about.’  So, is there a discrepancy in the manuscripts?  Apparently so.  Does it have the slightest impact on the meaning of what is written?  Not in the least.

In this case, however, it is not possible to lay the differences to scribal error or things lost in translation.  So, let’s take the points of contention in their order, and seek to understand how these two accounts, the one nearly eye-witness, certainly present in the city at the time, the other drawn from those who were likewise present, can be reconciled.

Okay, so our first point of concern is who bought the field.  While Matthew identifies the chief priests as having arranged the purchase as a means of laundering their returned payment, the nature of the money spent was not changed.  By their own argument, one could go so far as to say the money’s return had not been accepted, and therefore, it remained Judas’ money that bought the field.  Luke, as we observed, says he ‘acquired a field with the price of his wickedness.’  The middle voice nature of that acquisition certainly implies that he acquired it for himself, setting himself both as actor and recipient of action.  And the word we have translated as price in the NASB is more commonly understood as wages or reward; either way, payment for services rendered.  That said, the nature of linguistic usage of that period apparently allows that one could view this claim as applying even though said wages had passed back through the hands of the chief priests along the way.  That is to say, the field was still purchased ‘with the price of his wickedness,’ if the priests did the purchasing.

Hastings deals with the second matter of what they called the place.  He observes that the Aramaic term supplied by Luke, hakeldama, is quite likely a corruption of the Aramaic term for cemetery.  Matthew has indicated that it was to such purpose that the priests purchased the field, to be a burial place for strangers.  So, it could very well be that it was first known as a cemetery.  But Matthew also tells us the place was known, presumably prior to the purchase, as the Potter’s Field.  It was a known location; known well enough to have acquired a name by which it was referenced.  It is taken to have been somewhere on the edges of the Valley of Hinnom, which runs from the lower pool of Solomon’s reservoir, passing through a hillside of sepulchers, with this field being presumed to lie at its eastern end.  This, per Fausset’s Encyclopedia.  In other places, we find this area spoken of as Gehenna, serving as a representation of hell, wherein are unquenchable fire and the worm which won’t die (Mk 9:48).  This was not, then, a pleasant place.  Now, whether it was already a burial ground when the purchase was made, I cannot say.  It could have been, with the purchase simply extending the grounds, adding to it.

So, let us suppose it had already been in long use, which would seem reasonable given the associations made of its name.  Now, two events have transpired and they share a focal point in the very widely known trial and crucifixion of Jesus.  It would be hard to imagine anybody in the city being unaware of that event.  It had been a rather riotous affair.  Even if it was not personally witnessed, it would be discussed.  One wonders if any in all Israel could have been left unaware of the event.  If that was known, quite likely news had got out of Judas’ role.  In other words, it wasn’t just his fellow Apostles who knew what he had done.  He came with a crowd, after all.  That crowd, making its way from the city, with Judas at its head, would not have gone unnoticed, even if it was done by night.  Add news that this same man had been found dead in a field.  Tongues will wag.  Explanations will be sought, and if not found, will be manufactured from the imagination.

Add to this that, like any large organization, there would be those of loose tongue amongst the staff of the temple, who would have made known to friends or others curious about the goings on with Judas freaking out and throwing his payment back to them.  Word of those deliberations, however brief they had been, which led to the priests arranging the purchase of that field, would likewise get out.  What does Jesus say of this?  “There is nothing covered that will not be revealed, and hidden that will not be known” (Mt 10:26).  This, in discussing the persecutions that come upon a disciple of Christ.  “If they account the head of this a devil, how much more the members?” (Mt 10:25)  Things done in secret don’t remain secret, and the more there are involved, the more quickly is the secret deed exposed.  Tongues will wag.

Let’s try and tie this bundle up.  If this place was already dank enough to be a popular euphemism for hell itself, it would quite naturally tend to suggest itself to one thinking to end his life.  I might add a thread from Pastor Mathew’s sermon yesterday, regarding the demoniac of the Gerasenes (Mk 5).  This man, plagued by a host of demons, dwelt among the tombs, a place not unlike this valley of Hinnom.  Judas had witnessed this.  More to the point, we see that his actions were undertaken at a point when, “Satan entered into him” (Lk 22:3).  As pastor observed, the enemy comes to destroy, and here in the cemetery is the fruit of his destruction, the wages of sin put paid, if you will.  Whether that field had been purchased prior makes no difference.  It wasn’t due to the purchase that he was driven hence, but rather, the same lying, tormenting spirit which had driven him to betray the Lord in the first place.  You could even find a bit of irony in this being the true wages of his wickedness.  It was, in fact, what he had acquired for himself.

All of these connections would, over time if not fairly immediately, have come to be made by those in the city, watching events unfold.  Then, coming back to that point Hastings makes, it would be quite natural to take to using a bit of a play on words to shift the name from cemetery to field of blood.  Whether for the blood spilt by Judas himself, or for the far more significant pouring out of the blood of Jesus, the infamy of the act and the infamy of that place would naturally coincide in the thought life of city folk.

What remains on this issue?  I suppose the question of timing, and whether these two fields are in fact the same.  I incline to say yes, though I see suggestions that the field wherein Judas died was not the same field.  I don’t read of any strong basis for such a view, though, not that I’m reading extensively on the subject.  What of it, though, if the purchase by the priests had come later than Judas’ suicide?  While I might expect that news of Judas’ suicide would have come to their attention, it seems rather doubtful that anybody would have felt the need to identify where it had happened.  What would the priests care for that?  So they bought the plot, thought themselves done with the matter, but the townfolk made the connection.  Interesting.  You know, with all the obsession with conspiracy theories in our own day, it’s not hard to imagine somebody thinking over these things, connecting this bit with that, and arriving at the conviction that this all related.  And with that light switched on, they tell their friends, and those friends tell their friends, and pretty soon it’s just common knowledge.  It’s the Field of Blood.  How that must have rankled those priests!

Finally, we have the matter of how Judas died.  Matthew says he hanged himself.  Luke depicts him, at first glance at any rate, as tripping over a rock or some such obstacle and winding up face down on the ground, having fallen so hard he not only broke bones, but broke flesh to such extent that his guts burst from his body.  I have to say, it’s hard for me to imagine such a result from merely tripping and falling.  So, I had pulled down quotes from a couple of translations here because they caught my eye in the initial effort of reading.  The Douay-Rheims I think we can pretty readily discount.  They give the case as, “and being hanged, burst asunder in the midst.”  That is pretty clearly an attempt to harmonize the two cases by corrupting the translation.  Nothing in this passage mentions hanging at all.  That must be involved, for Matthew must remain true as well as Acts, but we cannot give it the credit of direct mention here.  It’s just not there.

Wuest takes a more visceral approach to his translation, informing us that, “having fallen flat on his face, he cracked open at the waist with a crashing noise and all his inner organs gushed out.”  There are a few points of contention I must take with this.  First, I don’t see anything to suggest a crashing noise here.  I see some suggestion of it in regard to later usage, being used of shouting as well as cracking.  Louw and Nida add the suggestion of internal pressure giving it a somewhat explosive force, which would match with the sense of things gushing out, as Thayer offers, like wine bursting a wineskin, or the effects of a sword thrust.  Yet, wine bursting a wineskin need not be thought a noisy affair.  Neither is the sword thrust or its aftermath a noisy matter in itself.  The noise, if there were any, would likely be the agonized screams of the victim.  Vine’s does suggest that this term always includes the idea of making a noise.  So, perhaps the noise is implied, though it seems a somewhat odd detail to bother with, and likewise odd that only this one translation seems to take note of it.

Now, we have the matter of falling flat.  This comes of two words in the Greek, prenes genomenos.  The first has the sense of falling prone, face-first.  But we have the challenge that this is the only use of the term in the New Testament.  There are two references to extra canonical texts, which off the sense of a rather violent assumption of that position.  But Loew and Nida offer an alternate perspective that it could speak of a body swollen and distended, though they do observe that there is not a large witness to such usage.  What I find striking, though, is the added term genemenos, becoming.  Becoming prone, again a middle voice action here, could, I suppose indicate Judas once more acting upon himself.  But it also offers, at least to my ears, a secondary involvement, more nearly an allowing of this to be done to himself.  That may be stretching matters too thin though.

I still have difficulty with the idea that he fell so hard as to have burst at the seams.  You see victims of a fall in the mountains or what have you, and don’t hear of any such result.  Even those who have fallen on rocks or fallen trees or what have you, though they will no doubt break bones, rupture internal organs, and so on, do not seem to burst open like a wineskin.  Shoot, those whose parachutes have failed to open, or like event appear to die relatively intact.  But what if this one had, as Matthew says, hung himself in such a place as this?  Who would come by to cut him down?  Who would come period?  The body, left hanging would eventually putrefy.  Corruption happens, and in a place in which so much refuse and so many dead were tossed, such creatures as aid the process of decomposition would be common.  Add the heat of land in the sun, and it’s not hard to imagine a bit of swelling, a softening of tissues such that when the body fell from its hastily made noose it fell headlong and indeed burst open as described.

Sorry.  It’s a bit of a gory subject, isn’t it?  But my purpose here is not to enter into the territory of horror novels.  Rather I seek only to demonstrate that the sparse narrative we have from these two witnesses leaves plentiful room to harmonize the results.  As I noted in prior, preparatory considerations, it would be impossible to state categorically that this is what happened.  We simply have insufficient evidence to arrive at so concrete a conclusion.  But, that it is possible can also not be rejected absolutely.  Again, if I start from the concrete necessity that Scripture is inerrant, then I can be satisfied insomuch as there is a plausible correspondence of these two accounts.  Knowing both are necessarily true, it remains only to understand how, not if; and I am comfortable that there is a plausible how.  Honestly, though, if it is not satisfactory, then I must advise one to pray for the wisdom to discern how these two accounts do fit together.  For I am quite assured that they do.

Necessity and Purpose (03/03/26-03/04/26)

Having spent time considering the parenthetical latter portion of the passage, I want to now turn my focus back upon what Peter has to say, and it is noteworthy in that regard to observe how he begins his speech.  “The Scripture had to be fulfilled.”  Jesus had said as much in teaching them, though they had not perceived the full import of that lesson at the time.  His death by such treacherous means, His mistreatment at the hands of the authorities, Jew and Gentile alike, and His resurrection:  All of these were necessitated by the prophetic word of Scripture.  The role Judas played was just as necessary.  It had to be so.  Why?  Quite simply, God had said it.

He spoke in the Person of the Holy Spirit through the voice and the pen of those to whom the Spirit was sent to give the message.  The prophets, those who were truly such, spoke as God gave utterance.  I’m sure they had plenty to say in their own right, but in that, they were no more than men.  But when one came to them to inquire of the Lord, they spoke as God gave utterance, or they had nothing to say.  Even Balaam, hardly a true prophet, was compelled to prophesy truly when it mattered most.  Let me just remind us, on that mention, that being used to deliver a message from God does not make one godly.  But that, perhaps, slips forward towards the third part of this study, with its focus on application.  Word it differently, then.  The prophecy does not come to advertise the messenger, but to deliver the message.  Our part in ministry is not about making a name for ourselves, but about serving Him.  It needs to be a matter of constant checking among us when we serve, to confirm that we are in fact serving Him and not ego.

So, in this case, the Holy Spirit spoke through David.  David was not a prophet; not as we understand the office to have been.  We do not find record of a commissioning to that post.  What we find is a commissioning as king, and even in that, the path from shepherd to king was riddled with trials and temptations to take matters into his own hands.  But as a shepherd, alone against the wilderness as he defended his father’s sheep, he knew somewhat of seeking God.  He knew somewhat of finding Him.  He sang his songs to fill the lonely moments, and in those songs, as he poured his heart out to God, he experienced God pouring in.  That habit, it seems, continued as he took up the task of ruling the nation.  He had his failings, and Scripture does not hide the fact.  But when he failed, and his failure became evident to him, he repented, he sought God.  And he experienced God pouring in.  What is that, but the Holy Spirit speaking?  When, then, his songs pour out, they carry the word of the Lord from his soul to his pen, and as such, many of his psalms do in fact take on this prophetic quality.  He is writing beyond what he knows.  He is giving expression to what God has spoken to him in that place of communion, and is guided in doing so, for the Spirit would have all God’s people benefit from the result.

Yet, to be clear, David wrote as his heart gave utterance.  He wrote because he wanted to do so, even if the writing was made necessary in that it was God’s message he was writing down.  Did he know it at the time?  I suspect he did, much like we find Paul keenly aware of the import of his writing.

It is coincidental, yet no coincidence, really, that I happen to be making my slow progress through Martin Luther’s “The Bondage of the Will” as I come upon this passage.  It’s something I’ve wanted to read again for some time, and I was able to borrow a copy, as it seems I lent mine out to somebody years ago and lost track of it.  But I was in the midst of reading Francis Schaeffer, and so, beginning Luther’s book waited.  And other considerations come up which, from my earthly perspective, delay me.  But from God’s perspective, things are aligning.  The right input at the right time.  It’s an experience of that same necessity about which I am writing this morning, the same necessity that Peter is speaking about.  It’s not necessary in that I have no choice in the matter.  No.  I very much chose, set my desire upon, rereading this book.  I very much chose to complete other reading before beginning.  I assuredly choose when to pick it up of an evening, and where to stop my reading.  It’s rather the same with these studies.  I have my flow, which I have set for myself.  I have an order in which I do what I do.  But the schedule, though in my hands, is set by God.  It comes back to that very first passage I highlighted in my Bible (a habit I still practice only rarely.  Something in me just dislikes marking up a book.)  “The mind of man plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps” (Pr 16:9).  Man’s will is involved.  Man chooses as he chooses.  But the LORD’s direction renders the result necessary.  It could not be that he would choose otherwise.

I don’t wish to press this so hard that I wind up in the pagan perception of fates that even the gods cannot defy.  Yet, I find it a great comfort when all seems out of control, to recognize the necessity of God’s purposes.  And I find it wonderful, invigorating, when, as so often happens, I find God orchestrating these various activities of mine to bring things together at just the right time.  Truly, we serve an amazing God, and His ability to weave together all the disparate threads of our lives ought to humble us as nothing else could.  He knows.  He foretells because He ordains, and what He ordains must surely come to pass.  “Scripture had to be fulfilled.”

It is necessary.  That’s the power of Peter’s word.  It is as though constrained by law.  It is constrained by law, the Law of God’s decree.  And nowhere, as Thayer points out, is this more the case than when it involves the matter of God’s purpose of salvation.  Now, here we are looking at Judas Iscariot, one whose name had become a thing reviled to his fellow Apostles.  They cannot speak of him, it seems, without pointing to his betrayal of Jesus, or listing out other crimes to be laid to his account.  He is truly accursed, in the strongest biblical sense of the word, and the events Luke describes for his readers make that clear.  Yet, his actions, for all that he did them willingly of his own volition (at least to the degree that we can speak of any man having true volition), were necessitated by the plan and purpose of God, that very plan which would in fact procure salvation for the many.

Okay.  I speak of him acting of his own volition, and yet, we have that notice that the devil entered into him as he left the Last Supper, at Jesus command, I might note, to go make his arrangements with the temple authorities.  Talk about compelled action!  The devil himself is riding this poor man, and I would maintain continued to ride him into that cemetery where he hung himself.  God Himself is telling him to go do what he has decided to do.  Yet, it would seem his mind was made up before this.  We don’t know the whys and wherefores.  We don’t know if there was some point in time when he had in fact known a love for Jesus, and thought to follow Him.  There was a draw, we must presume, for he followed when called.  This was not some zombie held under control by Jesus.  He followed of his own choice.  Yet, like many of us, he had mixed motives, it would seem.  I suspect that if one dug deep enough he would find that all of us without exception come with mixed motives.  The thing that makes the difference is how those motives resolve.  Which get stronger, and which fade away?  And behind that lies the question of why?  What caused those less noble motives to fade in this one, to become ascendant in that one?  And then, once more, we are back at, “It is necessary.”  For all our choosing, God didn’t just predict our choices; He didn’t simply look down the corridors of time to see how things would play out, come back to the start and set His plans accordingly.  No!  “Whom He foreknew, He predestined” (Ro 8:29).  His call does not go forth in vain, but accomplishes His purpose.  His purpose was the foreknowledge.  His word was the predestining act.  It must be.

So, as Peter looks at this one who betrayed his beloved Lord and Savior, he is able to see beyond the betrayal.  It does not absolve Judas of his choices and actions.  But it does point to the reality of God’s overarching control of events.  God had spoken of this turn of events long ages ago, back when David was still king.  Were there more immediate points of reference for David?  To be sure.  But if all this was had been personal griping, or personal request, there would be no particular cause for it to have been preserved.  It was preserved for our benefit.  It was preserve for this very moment, when shock and grief could have swamped these first believers and left them distraught.  This was no accident.  It had to turn out as it did.  The purpose of salvation required it.  God’s foretelling of the thing was not a tale of possible futures.  It was declarative.  Here’s what must come to pass.  And now it had.  If there remained questions as to why, here was an answer.  But the better question, the more needful question, was, “what do we do now?”

Here, then, was comfort for the questions in the hearts of Peter’s listeners.  Judas was not some random, unpredicted, unpredictable event.  It wasn’t some error in planning on Jesus’ part.  No!  God was directing events, even in that betrayal.  God’s purposes were being served, even in that betrayal.  God’s purposes were being served, even as the devil celebrated what he thought was his triumph in having managed to achieve the death of Messiah.  Oh!  But death could not hold Him!  Satan’s perceived victory was in fact his defeat.  We must learn from this not to judge by appearances, whether in becoming morose at the gathering darkness, or in blithely assuming the best in those who come purporting to speak for and serve God.  We must seek the Spirit’s vision, seek by the word of God to perceive rightly, and to take hope in the continued, providential involvement of God both in our personal trials and developments, and in the larger arcs of history unfolding about us.

So much is going on of late, and it does tend to overwhelm.  The speed of change is ever accelerating.  Seemingly good things keep proving evil.  Seemingly inevitable things are suddenly upended, the impossible shown to have been possible all along.  Truly, it seems we are in an age of villains and heroes.  But it’s not always clear which is which, and even our greatest heroes remain, as ever, flawed by sin and sin’s effects.  Be careful!  Measure not by the newscast nor the blog post nor by personal preference.  Measure by the measure of Scripture, our only sure guide.  Measure by the purposes of God, and find cause to rejoice even in the darkest day.  Remember, all is proceeding exactly as He has planned.  And His plans, when it comes to His people, are for good and not for evil.  He is able to ensure that every last thing works for the good of those who love Him, those He has called on no further basis than His purpose of loving them.

There is another aspect of purposeful deliberateness in the case of Judas.  As Peter observes, “He was counted among us, of our number, and he received his part in this ministry.”  This is something to recognize.  He had his part in the ministry, as allotted to him by divine allotment.  He was appointed to ministry, every bit as much as Peter or Paul.  He was as called and chosen as John or Matthew.  You have to think that there were those in the room who still wondered how it could be that Jesus would have allowed this, let alone chosen to have it be so.  I think back on that dinner He had with Simon the Pharisee, when the woman of the streets came and washed His feet with her hair.  Those attending couldn’t believe that He would permit such a thing, were He a prophet.  He would know who she was and forbid it.  Some, no doubt, among those gathered must likewise have wondered how Jesus, now fully recognized to be the Son of God Incarnate, could have failed to realize what Judas was like, what he would do.  But Peter has answered the question, and his answer reflects what Jesus Himself had said of the matter.  Peter says, “Scripture had to be fulfilled.”  Jesus says, “I know the ones I have chosen.  But the Scripture must be fulfilled, which says, ‘He who eats my bread has lifted his heel against me’” (Jn 13:18).  And again, “Did I Myself not choose you, the twelve, and yet one of you is a devil?” (Jn 6:70).

Notice well.  “I chose you.”  “I have chosen.”  Jesus is fully in charge of and in control of events.  And when He chose, He already knew.  He had known, temporally speaking, from before the beginning.  He had known each one of the Twelve, what they were like, where He would meet them, how He would call them, what role they would serve in ministry, how they would die when their time came to die.  He knows every bit as much about each one of us.  That ought to be a source of great comfort as well as occasionally a source of great concern.  For He knows our failings as well as our better parts.  He knows because He ordained it so.  We can distinguish, if you like, and observe that the Father ordained it so.  But for this purpose, it makes no difference.  “I and the Father are One.”  What Father ordains, Son has signed onto, and Spirit as well.  In this work of Creation and Redemption, Father, Son, and Spirit have been in covenanted agreement from the outset, in full accord and of one mind.  Of course, being One God, it could hardly be otherwise, could it?

These are, to my mind, words of great comfort.  When things are all topsy turvy, when life is throwing things our way that we would as soon where thrown elsewhere, it is well to be clear that these are not accidental occurrences.  They are not random events.  As my beloved wife was observing to some purpose last night, perhaps to remind her own spirit of the fact, “There are no coincidences with God.”  That, of course, struck a chord with me, perhaps designedly so, given my own experience when God called.  There’s no such thing as coincidence, only the appearance of being coincidental from our perspective.  From God’s perspective, all is proceeding according to plan.  All is to a purpose.

Some hear such a statement in regard to God’s providential ordering of reality, and find themselves offended at the thought.  But, but, that leaves us no more than puppets in a play.  And then, sin speaks up and says, and if this is the case, how can He find fault with me for my actions?  If I sin, it is because He made me do so.  But that same view must also arrive at the question, how can He forgive me?  If I repent, it is because He made me do so.  But the necessity of events alters nothing about our willing choice of response.  It does not leave us but puppets.  It simply recognizes that He who made us knows us; knows us, frankly, better than we know ourselves.  True, we could not choose otherwise than we do.  But equally true, we would not if we could.  We are who we are.  And so, regardless of God’s providence, we remain responsible for our choices.  As Jesus observes in regard to Judas in the course of His high priestly prayer, “While I was with them, I kept them in Your name, the name You have given Me.  I guarded them, and not one perished except the son of perdition, so that Scripture would be fulfilled” (Jn 17:12).  All was to the purpose to which Scripture had been pointing for centuries.  All was part of God’s plan.

Now, somebody yesterday attempted the observation that we really don’t know how things turned out ultimately for Judas.  I would have to say otherwise, on the simple basis of that declaration just considered.  First, we have the term perished, apollumi, which speaks not of death but of full and final destruction.  If Jesus had merely indicated that He kept them all alive for three years, that would hardly be much of an accomplishment.  But this is a divine prayer, and spans more than the few decades that equate to an earthly lifespan.  No, He has kept, preserved, ephulaxa.  Then, to seal the matter, we have Judas identified as the son of perdition, apoleias.  To be son of is to be identified with.  Perdition, being derived from apollumi, has that same aspect of eternal ruin.  Go back nearer the start of things, as Jesus speaks with Nicodemus.  “He who believes in the Son is not judged.  He who does not believe has been judged already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God” (Jn 3:18).  The decision is final.  Understand that in both these cases, to speak of the name is not speaking of that name assigned Him by Joseph and Mary, even if it was divinely appointed that they gave Him the name Jesus, or Joshua, if you prefer.  No, this goes to the name God the Father gave Him, which God the Father has as His own name, which is to say Lord.  Judas could not have done as he did if indeed he accounted Jesus as Lord.  That he did so is fullest rejection of that name and title.

But coming back to our present passage, as I have said, these are words to comfort a much unsettled group of believers.  What they had experienced these last months, what they had witnessed; these weren’t random events.  These weren’t circumstances throwing things off course.  They were absolutely purposeful, and for each action, each moment, there was a reason.  There was a reason which far exceeded whatever reasons various actors had for their actions.  Nothing had taken God unawares.  All was proceeding according to plan.  I seem to keep coming back to that refrain.  It is to a purpose.  We, in our finite perspective, too readily lose sight of God’s infinite and perfect wisdom.  We feel the need to inform Him of things as if maybe He had missed them.  We allow ourselves to think of God as those priests of Baal seemed to think of their boss.  Elijah, you will recall, mocked them rather mercilessly.  “Call out louder, for he is a god.  Perhaps he is busy, or gone to relieve himself.  Maybe he’s on vacation, or maybe sleeping” (1Ki 18:27).  Don’t let yourself slide into thinking God is like this.  He is not!  “He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep” (Ps 121:4).  Indeed, it’s more personal.  “He who keeps you will not slumber or sleep” (Ps 121:3).

We can, I suppose, look at Judas and wonder what caused him to do as he did.  Did he act according to his own intentions, or did he act solely because “a devil entered into him”?  Another question that arose yesterday, and with the assertion that this was left ambiguous.  But it is not.  Judas had already been pursuing his course before that moment.  This was just the final act in a play he had long since begun performing.  Then, as we have been discussing, we must go farther, and recognize, as Peter will makes clear on another occasion, the ultimate cause goes straight back to God’s purpose.  The answer to who caused these things to happen, Judas, the devil, or God, the answer is, “Yes.”  God ordained, and it must be so, yet by this, He does not render Himself accusable of sin, nor an enactor of evil.  The devil acted as he chose to act, but also acted solely as God permitted action to be taken.  He sets the bounds of even his enemy’s deeds.  Judas also acted as he chose to act.  He was not coerced, not by that demon, not by God.  He chose to do, and he did.  The demon entering into him as Jesus commanded him to get on with what he was going to do was not forcing his action, only accompanying him, and perhaps driving him towards that field in the aftermath.  It was not that the demon suddenly shifted Judas’ thinking.  It was that Judas was fully and finally abandoned to his choices, the restraining or correcting hand of God withheld.  This, and no more. 

Now, let me expand on that comfort just a bit.  What is laid out for us in the conclusion of the Gospels and the opening scene of Acts is proof positive that God’s purposes survived Judas’ treachery.  More, God’s purposes had Judas’ treachery baked in from the beginning.  Comes the church.  God’s purpose included the establishing of this church, the church which Christ built, against which the very gates of Hades cannot stand (Mt 16:18).  There have been periods when it seemed the wheels were coming off.  We go back into that period when Rome was in full persecution mode, and see so many believers running away, denying their faith to preserve life, and we wonder.  Where is this steadfast church?  We find them coming back when things calmed down, and the church unclear how to respond, and we wonder again.  We see the movements of ascetics and monastics and the excesses of the papal order in the middle ages, and we wonder yet again.  How could God allow His church to become like this?  Where is that solid rock?  But it was there, and God saw to it that it emerged from all those obscuring trappings.

Come forward to our day, when it seems that the majority of churches have gone wandering off after pop psychology, social tides, saying anything to gain a following.  Well, first, this is nothing new.  The Apostles were dealing with all of that from the outset, as competing worldviews and religious ideas sought to infiltrate and redirect the work of the Church.  But God preserves.  God is not caught unawares.  His purposes survived the treachery of Judas, and long ages of the devil’s attempts to derail things.  His Church will survive these present corruptions and emerge the stronger for it.  Understand that in all these things, both past and present, the result is down not to the involvement of better men, but because God has determined it shall be so.  We can mourn the passing of various strong voices in the Church.  I know I feel the loss of R.C. Sproul’s departure.  But God remains.  The world around us changes, but God continues to be the same God He has always been and always shall be.  The Church, for all its mistakes, and for all that various divisions arise, and factions split off which call themselves churches but are in fact synagogues of Satan, stands.  And God’s word stands.  The gates of hell shall not overpower it, nor the forces of hell overrun it.

God is in control.  Fully.  Eternally.  He sets the boundaries of action.  He sets the scope of action.  And He determines the outcomes of action.  And as concerns you and me, accounted amongst those whom He has called by name, the promise stands unaltered.  “God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose” (Ro 8:28).  That’s us.  Stand firm and remain confident in the hope that is within you by His doing.

Implication and Application (03/05/26)

There are three points I want to bring out from this passage, and these three connect one with another.  First, in being reminded of Judas, there is this which we must recognize:  Serving in ministry proves nothing as regards salvation.  Good works should be evident in the believer, but they are not themselves proof of true salvation.  You may know, as I have known, of somebody who has served long in ministry, perhaps serving alongside yourself.  You have shared the work, and the joy of the work completed.  But something happened, and that one fell into the arms of sin and would not repent.  He or she just threw away everything they had in Christ and walked out.  How could this be?  It seems so impossible.

Having witnessed this, certain passages hit with new force, don’t they?  We were reading in Hebrews 10 last week and you reach that passage which looks at a similar case.  “If we go on sinning deliberately after receiving knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins, only the certain and terrifying expectation of judgment, of being consumed by the fury of God’s fiery wrath” (Heb 10:26-27).  And they knew this as well as you or I do.  For one fully convinced of the assurance of salvation it hits particularly hard.  After all, we thought we knew this person.  We were so certain of their election.  Their love for Christ was so evident, their devotion to Him clear.  And now this.  How?  From our finite standpoint, it seems only two explanations are on offer.  Either our own ability to assess is so damaged that we couldn’t perceive the falsity of it all along or salvation is not, in fact, assured.  The first we will tend to reject on the simple basis that we incline to trust our own instincts and perceptions.  How could our senses and our analysis of our senses’ inputs be so wrong?  Honestly, who would give themselves so to the work of the Kingdom if they did not in fact believe in, belong in, rejoice in the Kingdom?  Why would somebody even do that?  What’s the point?  There’s no pay in it.  There’s little enough of honor and recognition.  What motive could this person have had, if it were not in fact the desire to serve God faithfully?  It simply does not compute.

But if it’s not the case that our perceptions of this person were wrong, that leaves a much more dreadful option; that salvation is never assured, always at risk.  And certainly, one can find plentiful places in Scripture that urge fidelity in terms that could be perceived as indicating this very thing.  I well recall pointing to several, not least this same passage in Hebrews to make that point.  God has long since convinced me otherwise, but when a brother with whom you have served together for years suddenly makes total shipwreck of his life, it gives pause.  It cannot but do so.

Is there aught we can learn from the case of Judas which might give us a glimpse of some alternate explanation which would resolve the case?  Well, we could go back to the parable of the wheat and the tares, as Jesus lays out this picture of the farmer whose enemy has sown tares among his wheat.  The two are all but indistinguishable as they grow, and by the time you can perceive the difference, as the fruit begins to ripen, the damage that would be done to the wheat by attempting removal of the tares renders it imprudent to weed them out.  This, of course, is a parable concerning the nature of the kingdom as it appears on earth at present, which is to say, a parable concerning the life of the church.  And it does somewhat explain the case, doesn’t it?  This brother or sister, as we counted them, may have been a plant.  Of course, that in turn calls into question our attentiveness to the Spirit’s leading in having assigned such a one a role in the work.  But observe verse 17 in our passage once again.  “He was accounted as one of us.  He received his portion in this ministry.”  And that receiving, that allotment was to be understood as coming by divine determination.  So, even if we choose to view this as an enemy infiltration by which we were duped for a season, it will not serve to stop at that understanding.  Yes, the enemy sowed.  But that sowing remains a matter done by divine allotment.  God remains in control, which is to say, He had His reasons for allowing the situation to be as it was.

There is also this follow-on point to understand.  God will not suffer hidden things to remain hidden, especially as concerns His church.  The deception may persist for a time, and that time may grow long from our perspective, but in due course, the tares will become evident, and they will be dealt with.  It may not be until the time of final harvest for all we know, but they will be dealt with, and, as it is God dealing with it, they will be dealt with in such fashion as will not in fact harm the true believers (Mt 13:25-40).  Perhaps that is why it was permitted to go on as long as it did, in order that the true believers could mature enough to withstand the revealing.  Perhaps the true believers simply needed to learn that they cannot take things at face value; that works do not in fact serve to infallibly prove real faith. 

Perhaps it has been permitted in order to bring us to a place of introspection and assessment.  What remains hidden by me?  I suspect strongly that any one of us would have to confess to having our hidden sins if push came to shove.  We may have managed to convince ourselves this is not the case with us, but come the Day, don’t be surprised if you come to learn that much like this brother or sister we’ve been considering, the view you had of yourself was in fact self-deception.  “For through the grace given to me I say to every one of you not to think more highly of himself than he ought to think; but to think so as to have sound judgment, as God has allotted to each a measure of faith” (Ro 12:3).  Sometimes, we simply must have the courage to earnestly pray as David prayed.  “Search me, O God, and know my heart.  Try me and know my anxious thoughts.  See if there is any hurtful thing in me, and lead me in the everlasting way” (Ps 139:23-24).  The heart is deceptively wicked.  We cannot read it reliably even in ourselves.  We need God to see, to show us, to change us.

Pray, then, that God, in revealing our hidden inner self, will do so in such fashion as will find us at His feet, humbling ourselves, and seeking His help to address the matter and make things right.  But know that there are those who will not, for whom the revealing will in fact make clear that, “they were never of us” (1Jn 2:19).  In either case, praise God, that He has not permitted the corruption to remain and fester, but has addressed it in such fashion as best serves the wellbeing of the Church.

Now, to the second matter, and as I observed, it connects with the first.  All of this must, I think, give us pause.  And in pausing, the thought will arise, if he could do these things, if he could throw it all away, what of me?  This again comes back to the question of assurance.  Perhaps you looked upon this lost brother as a peer; perhaps even as one more mature in faith than yourself.  And look what happened!  Now what?  How can I have confidence in my own position in Christ?  If all of this turned out to have been false in him, how can I ever be sure it’s not false in me as well?  What’s to keep me from falling?  After all, I know how readily I can stumble into sin, become temporarily overwhelmed by temptations.  I know, for my own part, how readily I can allow frustration to build to anger, and that in itself is sinful, however much I may choose to downplay it, or explain it away because I was tired, it was a hard day, or whatever excuses I might make.  Yes, days are hard, harder of late than usual.  Yes, I get tired.  For whatever reason, God has seen fit to bring me to a place of waking up early to have these times with Him, but that puts certain strains on the end of the day, doesn’t it?  My point is, though, that none of this excuses the anger.  None of this helps to deal with the effects of that anger, not on others, not on myself.

Does this inability to address the matter point to a falsity in my own faith?  Am I on some precipice, tottering on the edge and about to tumble over?  I cannot believe it is so, no.  I am entirely convinced of the word of Scripture, of those passages I quote so often in these times of study.  In particular, those twin affirmations from John 10 keep me confident.  “My sheep hear My voice and follow Me.  I know them, and give them eternal life.  They shall never perish, and no one shall snatch them out of My hand.”  And then, “My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all.  No one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand.  I and the Father are One” (Jn 10:27-30).  The power does not exist that could separate one whom the Father has called by name from Him.  Our worst sins and failings do not suffice to cause such a separation to come to pass.  To quote the old song, “He will hold me fast.”  But still, there is plentiful cause to pause, to assess, to take corrective action, beginning with prayerful repentance and the seeking of God’s aid in turning things around.  And then, the hard work of pursuing change.  No.  Not in fact hard work, for it is He who works in us to achieve His good purpose (Php 2:13).  We must work, but we work from the place of rest as we rest in Him, trust in Him, and do our best to walk with Him.

So, then, if we find ourselves shaken as concerns our confidence in the work of God ongoing in us, let us take the time to consider the full counsel of His word.  Let us seek to know from Him what it is that our shaken confidence is revealing, what matters lie hidden in us that need to be revealed so that they can be dealt with.  Let us lay ourselves open to what God would choose to do to address the matter, and trust in Him to bring us through, changed for the better, grown wiser and more mature in our faith.  His discipline may not be pleasant to undergo.  Discipline never is.  But as we let it train us to humble, faithful obedience, there is reason for joy in it, for its training produces in us the peaceful fruit of righteousness (Heb 12:11).  Don’t give up as though your failures have made this a lost cause.  Learn.  Grow.  See what God has done in you to date, and have confidence that He’s not done with you yet.  No one, not even yourself in your failures, is able to snatch you out of the Father’s hands.  Understand that there is purpose in what has been permitted to happen in you, and that purpose is guided by a good God, and is itself good.  The sins into which you have fallen are not in and of themselves good, but God knows how to work them for good.  His grace is greater.

Consider Peter, who is talking here.  He didn’t have to wonder, “What about me?”  He’d seen what about him.  He’d been there.  He’d denied Jesus, even with the foreknowledge Jesus had supplied him.  He’d been so sure of himself.  Not me, Lord!  I’d even die for you!  And yet, not once, but three times, when the danger was far less than death, he had claimed to have no part in Christ, even as he watched Jesus facing trial.  Nope.  He just came in here to get warm.  Nothing to do with that guy.  And he had known the conscience wracked with guilt, the sense that he had just thrown away everything he thought he’d gained in the last few years.  Yet, unlike Judas, he remained somehow.  When news came of the empty tomb, he was instant in rushing out to see.  Still, it seems that even having encountered Jesus alive from the dead, doubts remained.  He couldn’t quite forgive himself for what he had done, perhaps couldn’t accept that Jesus had truly forgiven this most egregious failure in one of his closest disciples.  It took that encounter on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, under the repeating question, “Do you love Me?”  Each one, when answered by Peter, responded to with a call to take up his place in serving God’s people.  Yes, Peter, you truly are forgiven.  Yes, you truly are needed in this ministry.  Let your experience serve to comfort the others.

This, I believe, is exactly what is happening in the scene before us.  The observation that Judas’ actions, as terrible as they were, had come to pass, as had his place in the ministry, by divine purpose, makes sense of the whole mess.  It had to happen.  Scripture must be fulfilled.  The plan of salvation required this deed, awful as it was, to bring about the death of Messiah, as truly awful as that was, in order that the grand purpose of salvation, which had been in the works from the day Adam was created, let alone when he fell – indeed, from farther back than that – could be achieved.  It could not be otherwise.  God had said it.

There is the message, the third takeaway.  We look at events around us and allow them to dismay us.  We begin to question, perhaps, whether the Church is still serving a purpose.  We question whether we are in fact just wasting our time, doing no more than to wrap our social engagements in fancy paper so that it will feel more significant to us.  Maybe all those other voices out there, claiming religion is a waste, a fraud, a useless vestige of former days, are right.  But no!  They are not.  God remains on the throne.  All that transpires, transpires in accordance with His grand purposes.  Yes, evil men do evil things.  Yes, demonic powers pursue their demonic ends.  But Truth remains.  God is working all this awful mess together for good to those who love Him, those called by Him for His purpose (Ro 8:28 one more time).

Your failures, your hard places, your victories; these come about in order that you may, by your experience, serve your brothers.  When they face similar difficulties, you can come alongside as one whose been there.  When they are weak, you may be the instrument by which God chooses to show Himself strong.  Be willing.  Be available.  Be vulnerable.  Let your weakness be seen in order that the way in which God answered your weakness can be seen, and your brother strengthened thereby.  “Let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds” (Heb 10:24).  Let us consider how our experiences may serve the Lord by way of edifying, building up, our brother.  And may God have the glory for every bit of it.