Judas – did he really exist?

[This was first posted 2014, reposted every ‘UnHoly’ Week. 

 

The betrayal of the Christian Savior by one of his 12 is part of the Passion Week narrative.  The name “Judas” has become synonymous with words like traitor, back-stabber, snake in the grass, etc.  What parents would name their child ‘Judas’, anathema, second only to ‘Lucifer’?

 

Ever wonder what the acronym INRI on the upper part of the crucifix stands for?

 “Iesus Nazarenus, Rex Iudaeorum”

or “Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews.”  

 

Here’s food for thought: 

• There being no letter “J” till the middle ages,
• “Judas” would have been spelled “Iudas” (guessing),
• but let’s connect the dots:  
• Judas/Iudas, Judea/Iudaea, Jews/Iudaeorum.  

Is it mere coincidence that the betrayer of “Iesus” was named “Iudas” that sounds like “Jew-das”?  Remember that biblical names were not mere names but descriptive attributions to character, if not destiny.

 

Rabbi Schmuley Boteach whose book Kosher Jesus is on our MUST READ continues to analyze key figures in the Gospels of the New Testament.  Please read the previous posts featuring other chapters from this book. The book is downloadable in ebook format from amazon.com. Reformatted and highlighted for this post.—Admin1.]

 

 

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Chapter 11:  Did Judas Really Exist?

 

As Peter’s brand of anti-Semitism gathered force over the years, Judas Iscariot became a favorite figure for Christian thinkers and writers intent on castigating the Jews.  A perfect villain, the former apostle was willing to sell his teacher for a couple of gold coins.  To many anti-Semitic Christians, he seemed the very model of the money-grubbing perfidious Jew – and for that, they made him famous.

 

These thinkers found it easy to smear the Jews by pointing to the dichotomy of the figures of Peter and Judas.  Peter was a representative of the Church, while Judas stood in for the Jews.  Augustine of Hippo set the stage for centuries of anti-Jewish feeling by writing, “One wicked man [Judas] represents the whole body of the wicked; in the same way as Peter, the whole body of the good, yea, the body of the Church.”  Similarly, Saint Jerome (374-419 CE) used judas to associate Jews with the treacherous serpent in the Garden of Eden, denouncing Jews as “Judaic serpents of whom Judas was the model.”

 

 

In dramatic literature and art Judas embodies the anti-Jewish

polemic. Artists usually endow Judas with grossly exaggerated

Semitic features, such as a giant nose, and he is often grubby and dirty.  His love for money and readiness to sell out his most vital interests for cash serve as a model for several other anti-Semitic caricatures, most notably Shakespeare’s miserly Shylock.  As early as the fourth century, Pope Gelasius I summed up how many Christians still view Judas:  “In the Bible, the whole is often named after the part:  as Judas was called a devil and the devil’s workman, he gives his name to the whole race.”

 

It’s not hard to see where this idea originated.  In the New Testament itself, Judas is frequently shown as a conduit of Satan.  In the Book of Luke, it is casually stated, “Then Satan entered Judas, called Iscariot.” In another variation on that same idea, the Book of John notes, “As soon as Judas took the bread, Satan entered into him.”  Before the Last Supper, John informs us, “The devil had already prompted Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus.”

 

Alone among the other Gospels, the Book of John goes a step further, stitching Judas’ obsession with money into the story.  In the Gospel of John, Judas is the treasurer of Jesus’ organization and embezzles from the common funds.  According to one story, “Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus feet and wiped his feet with her hair.  And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.  But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, ‘Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the monty given to the poor?  It was worth a years’ wages.'” Naturally, Judas does not say this because he cares about the poor.  In John’s eyes, he is a thief.  As keeper of the purse, he has already been seen helping himself to its contents, and he wants to make sure he won’t miss a single coin.

 

Even isolated as it is in the Gospel of John, this portrayal of Judas’ supposedly acquisitive ways had real and lasting consequences for the Jewish community.  For, as Hyam Maccoby has observed, “The association of Christian society to drive the Jews into money-lending as their sole permitted occupation, owes much to this emblematic portrayal of Judas.”

 

It is already suspicious that this story occurs in only one out of four Gospels.  And other signs of editorial meddling are immediately in evidence.  As Maccoby demonstrates, this story seems to be a simple amalgamation of two earlier stories found elsewhere.  “The first (Mark 14:3-9; Matthew 26:6-11; Luke 7:37) also takes place in Bethany.  An unnamed woman pours precious ointment on Jesus’ head, and is reproved – not by Judas Iscariot, but by ‘some of the present’ (Mark) or by the ‘disciples’ (Matthew) – for wasting ointment that could have been sold to benefit the poor… The second story (Luke 10:38-42) concerns the two sisters Martha and Mary, but it is situated in ‘a certain village,’ not Bethany, nor does it refer to precious ointment.”  It seems clear that this tale of Judas’ corruption so vital to smearing the Jews as money-grubbers, is a fabrication, and one that falls apart after the merest scrutiny.

 

Today, most Christians remember Judas as the betrayer of Jesus.  Here is John’s retelling of that event:

 

When he had finished praying, Jesus left with his disciples and crossed the Kidron Valley.  On the other side there was a garden, and he and his disciples went into it.  Now Judas, who betrayed him, knew the place, because Jesus had often met there with his disciples.  So Judas came to the garden, guiding a detachment of soldiers and some officials from the chief priests and the Pharisees.  They were carrying torches, lanterns and weapons.  Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him, went out and asked them, “Who is it you want?”  

 

“Jesus of Nazareth,” they replied, “I am he,” Jesus said. (And Judas the traitor was standing there with them.)

 

After that, we hear nothing further of Judas.  As far as John’s Gospel is concerned, Judas has proven himself evil incarnate.  Having betrayed Jesus, he loses his identity and is no longer of interest.  But there is something startling in this story if only we look closer.

 

 

Only in this fragment of John does the true story come out.  Jesus, a rebellious Jew, has been arrested by the Roman troops.  They arrested him with the assistance of Jewish collaborators.  Judas among them, intent on betraying the leader of the Jewish resistance to the Roman occupation.  What makes the story so remarkable is that anywhere else, the Book of John takes great pains to demonstrate that Jesus had no political mission whatsoever.  So why does the real story suddenly emerge here of all places?  Incomplete and careless editing has allowed a sliver of the undeniable truth to remain:  Jesus was already arrested not by henchmen of the high priests but by Roman troops, enforcers against sedition.

 

 

Judas the Symbolic Figure

 

Many scholars now believe Judas Iscariot never existed in the first place, and was written into the story solely to incriminate the Jews.  Among others, leading Christian scholar Raymond Brown matter-of-factly writes in The Death of the Messiah that many scholars believe that Judas never existed but was a symbolic figure.

 

 

The first and most compelling reason to think so is the simple fact of Judas’ name.  That the apostle whose very name literally means “Jew” is the one to turn in Jesus seems contrived in the extreme.

 

 

Also, if Judas did exist, it is shocking that Paul never mentions him throughout all of his works.  Paul revels in the death of Jesus, modeling his entire spiritual-philosophical system after the events of the crucifixion.  If a man named Judas were involved he would have certainly used such a story in his proselytizing.  Yet he does not even mention the apostle who allegedly betrayed Jesus above all others.  This glaring omission seems utterly baffling until we consider that Paul’s epistles were written before the Gospels.  It seems very plausible that the story of Judas took root only after Paul’s death.  He gives it absolutely no mention because Judas hasn’t yet been invented.

 

Giving further credence to this concept are the number of early Gospel iterations in which Judas is missing, despite being present in later Gospel versions.  These scenes, too, bear clear marks of substantial rewriting.

 

Peter’s uncanonized gospel refers to the presence of twelve apostles even after Jesus’ death.  “Now it was the last day of the unleavened bread, and many are going forth, returning to their homes, as the feast has ended.  But we, the twelve disciples of the Lord, wept and were grieved; and each one, being grieved for that which has come to pass, departed to his home.”  Hyam Maccaby has pointed out that whoever wrote the Gospel of Peter must have been unaware that Judas supposedly had already left Jesus’ inner circle, according to accounts in the accepted Gospels.  This discrepancy also supports the idea that the entire character of judas was a fabrication.

 

Yet among the most convincing indications that Judas was fictional is his biblical precursor.  Most Christian readers will be unaware of the Hebrew Bible story of Ahitophel, King David’s treacherous adviser.  Yet the similarities between Ahitophel and Judas are glaringly conspicuous.  These shared elements point to a deliberate attempt to make Jesus look like David, the first messianic king, and to cast the Jews as traitors responsible for the murder of Jesus.

 

Both Ahitophel and Judas are traitors, leading armies to the man they are betraying.  The Second Book of Samuel describes the scene.  Ahitophel says to Absalom, David’s son, who has rebelled and usurped the throne and seeks his father’s life:

“I would choose twelve thousand men and set out tonight in pursuit of David.  I would attack him while he is weary and weak.  I would strike him with terror, and then all the people with him will flee.  I would strike down only the king and bring all the people back to you.  The death of the man you seek will mean the return of all; all the people will be unharmed.”

 

If we compare this passage to the story of Judas as related in the Gospel of Mark, parallels swiftly become apparent:

 “Just as he was speaking, Judas, one of the Twelve appeared.  With him was a crowd armed with swords and clubs, sent from the chief priests, the teachers of the law, and the elders.  Now the betrayer had arranged a signal with them: ‘The one I kiss is the man, arrest him and lead him away under guard.’  Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, ‘Rabbi!’ and kissed him.” 

Ahitophel and Judas, betrayers of Jewish kings for personal interest, seem cut from the same cloth.

 

Judas and Ahitophel are also drawn together by the fact that both commit suidcide.  The Hebrew Bible describes the scene:

 “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 the elders . .. So Judas threw the money into the temple and left.  Then he went away and hanged himself.”

 

To sum up, Ahitophel and Judas are both treacherous disciples who lead armies to capture their former masters and commit suicide by hanging themselves.

 

Indeed, the story of Judas kissing Jesus in an act of betrayal seems reminiscent of an earlier biblical story as well.  As Maccoby writes:

 

It has been suggested that the story was influenced by the Hebrew Bible story of Joab and Amasa, the two rival generals of King David.  Joab falls into disfavor with the king, and was replaced as commander-in-chief by Amasa.  But when he was charged with leading reinforcement troops to help Amasa.  Joab treacherously contrived to assassinate him.

‘And Joab said to Amasa, ‘Is it well with thee, my brother?’ And Joab took Amasa by the beard with his right hand to kiss him.”

 

 

The image of betrayal by a kiss is undoubtedly there in both stories, and it is clearly a story-motif common in the East.  It is expressed also in the Hebrew Bible in the form of a proverb:  

“The blows of a friend are well-meant, but the kisses of an enemy are perfidious.” (Proverbs 27:6).

 

With each detail it seems ever more clear that, between his textual forebears and his transparently concocted name, Judas is none other than a literary creation.

 

But the greatest piece of evidence for the nonexistence of Judas is the fact that the New Testament later gives a completely different story of how Judas died.  The story quoted above, describing Judas’ hanging, is directly contradicted by the Book of Acts, in which Judas dies due to a horrible divine punishment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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P.S.  Here’s another book that will either challenge or confirm Rabbi Schmuley Boteach’s thesis, authored by New Testament Professor-turned-atheist Bart D. Ehrman, whose book Forged has been featured among our MUST READ list.  Once we get our copy, we will feature excerpted chapters.