The recent publication of the "Gospel of Judas" has aroused new interest in the role of the disciple in the betrayal of Christ during the dramatic developments of the first Holy Week, and in his part in the events that led to the Crucifixion of Christ on that first Good Friday. The release of the newly-translated Gnostic manuscript has been a marketing success for the publishers and is already creating a minor Judas industry: there is the book with an annotated translation of the text, a book on how the text came to light, a magazine cover article for National Geographic, a television documentary, an exhibition and a specially dedicated website. Who knows? There may yet be a movie in it all.
The publicity and hard sell surrounding the "Gospel of Judas" come at the same time as Dan Brown's novel, The Da Vinci Code, continues to perform strongly in the best-seller lists - in advance of the release of the movie based on the novel and as a consequence of renewed interest generated by the London court case in which Brown successfully defended himself against accusations of plagiarism. It is worth asking why, as the western world appears to be drifting towards increasing secularism and greater scepticism about faith and religion, small cults sprout up around marginal interpretations of the Gospel, outside mainstream Christian thinking?
Doubtless, the "Gospel of Judas" will remain a commercial and publishing phenomenon for some time. But despite its origins among a marginal Gnostic cult in third century Egypt - outside the mainstream of orthodox Christianity - this short manuscript challenges us about some of the prejudices we have inherited over the generations.
How often has Judas been cast as the stereotypical Jew, the man of Judah, so that his betrayal of Christ became an excuse for vile forms of anti-Semitism and racism that have haunted Christianity for centuries? When we use the word Judas to denigrate and demonise those we see as betraying our fundamental and core values, we forget it is easier to accept Judas, who looked after the money, rather than Jesus, who cared for the poor, as a role model for our society. The Christ who was betrayed by Judas and who hangs on the Cross today remains the same Christ who tells us to feed the hungry, to give drink to the thirsty, to clothe the naked, to set the prisoners free. But on this Good Friday, in this wealthy society, with our words and our actions, have we betrayed the hungry in the Developing World, those suffering from drought in East Africa, the 320,000 people in Ireland living below the poverty line, or the aged-out minors who are deported in the middle of the night?
How often are Christian values betrayed not by Judas but by those who are the custodians of the values our society professes to live by? It is said that during a visit to Birmingham, Mahatma Gandhi was once asked what he thought of Christian civilisation. The great Indian sage replied: "I think it would be a very good idea".