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The second station - Judas betrays Jesus

The Stations of The Cross - Second Station

Mark 14: 43-46

When we came upon him in the
Olive grove, I kissed my Lord,
And his tears tasted sweet.
They should have tasted of salt,
But instead, they tasted sweet.

They will lie when they speak my name.
yet it was I, the accursed who grasped
his hand and forced it into the flame.
I, who saw the paradox, by which the
worst Is the corruption of the best so
he and I as guilty men shared the blame.

Along with her Messiah, I saw that Israel
must pass through the fire. As Rome
became both the judgement and the
punishment for sin; with no salvation,
except in suffering: the cup of humiliation
drunk to the bitter dregs to save the nation,
with my hopes, my ideals invested in him

They say a prophet begins well, finding
a following, seeing it grow. But pride
is in a man if not inspired, when all that
was once good becomes mired in deceit
or worse, the sin of conceit; and it was
the ride on the donkey, and the ululating
crowds, and then what I saw as pride.

If only he had been true to his promise,
I could have kept him straight, via the path
of subjection and through the narrow gate.
Then came the sop of favour and with it the
dreadful doubt; was I to be the means of his
death and did my rejection only serve my hate?

They will say what a good man was in Jesus,
A prophet - not the Son of God. Yet it was I,
who, by betraying the Prophet instead revealed
the God. And I walked not by faith but by proof,
as, too late, I realised the truth About sin; only
the untainted priest could ever be truly innocent.

Who can save me from the horror of myself?
I, who helped to murder the Christ! If I climb
to Heaven, He is there. If I descend to Hell,
He is there. I Could crawl to the cross to beg
forgiveness but his innocence would sear like
a flame, I cannot be saved; I will take the blame.
I must own my disgrace – I shall go to my place.

Images from Wikimedia Commons: Jörn Droemann.

© D G Moody 2023

Poetry by D G Moody