Judas's Carrot (Judas Iscariot)

Judas Iscariot, the timeless villain? Or exaggerated sinner, sentenced to be forever remembered by his darkest moments?

It seems that so many are quick to blame Judas for Jesus death, and they have good reason to do so, however the utter disgust that he is viewed with disturbs me. Judas was a man! We all sin! The unfortunate fact for this particular man is that his sins will forever be remembered in writing.

I think that one of the reasons that there is such universal dislike for Judas is due to the fact that nearly all can see themselves within him. And they hate it.

It's ironic, but as humans, we are often appalled by those who possess character flaws similar to our own. It is the thief who is most angry when stolen from, the liar when misled, the adulterer when cheated upon, and so forth. Perhaps there is some truth to the statement that we hate Judas, because we can relate to him. We are afraid of the simple truth-- we are just like him. That we are all capable of condemning even the Savior of this world. And we hate him. We hate him for opening our eyes to the horrible deeds that we are capable of.

Judas was a disciple. To all around him, he was a fine example, however as we now know, his heart was not always in the right place. As the disciple responsible for the money, he often succumbed to greed and withdrew some for himself. In fact, it was greed that led him to hand over Jesus as well.

Who among us has never succumbed to greed?

Let us try to embrace him, as we would a brother in need. Embrace him because we are alike. Embrace him because we are no better.

-because we're not.

Memories

I like to drive. It gives me time to think, time to reflect upon myself. When I'm driving I immerse myself in my thoughts, hardly paying attention to the journey, for my mind is far from where I drive.

Often, I have much to reflect upon on my drive home from small-groups. Tonight was no different.

My thought process began with a song- Heard the World. As I listened to it, I was flooded with memories of when I first heard this very song. While, half-naked tanning on the roof during a church trip may sound unappealing to some, to me it is a fond memory.

My thoughts then took another direction. I began to weigh the value of memories. Memories are priceless. The very sight of a picture can flood one with emotions, a smell can trigger a smile, even terrible songs can bring back fond memories.

And as I pondered, I realized what I most fear. I fear, that one day I will begin to lose my memory. I fear that things that I now hold dear will be forever lost to me. I fear that I will cease to be me.

For without memories there cannot be a self. If I lose my memories, then I will surely lose myself.

Technically, this point can be argued, but let me divulge my reasoning behind my statement.

I have made many mistakes in my short life, if I had no memory of them, what would prevent me from repeating them? There are so many that I love and hold dear, what would prevent them from becoming blank faces, forever lost to me?

I am afraid that one day I will lose my memory. I will cease to be me. Surely I will still exist, but a lifetime of memories and learning will vanish, leaving a withering shell.

Maybe I don't fear so much what will become of me, but more how much pain will be thrust upon those who love me. I would rather not even imagine the pain of being forgotten by someone whom you love. How would my children feel if they were suddenly just another face in the crowd?

And so, I pray that when I leave this earth, it will be with all of the knowledge, and all of the love that I have garnered on my short time here. Don't let me lose it.

Terry

Tonight, I had dinner with a stranger.

He has been working his whole life, mostly part-time jobs.
He's lived in every state, even Canada and Mexico.

Lately he's lost a lot of work due to the influx of Hispanics.
But he's not bitter.
Lately he's been having financial troubles.
But he's not worried.
Lately he's been forced to resort to humiliating means for money.
But he's not humiliated.

Lately he's been living under a bridge.
But he's not complaining.

His name is Terry, he's well into his 50's, possibly even 60's, and homeless.

The most amazing thing is, he lives life one day at a time without worry. He confessed to me that his favorite verses dealt with how we are like sheep, and the Lord is our shepherd, caring for us through all things.

This guy lives on $10 a day, the least we can do is be thankful for what we have in such abundance.

Contentment. It's a word that is often overused, a word that many like to use to avoid questions, a thing that is often just out of reach.

Good thing i have long arms, cause right now, nothing's out of reach.