Hannah's notes from the Last Days of Judas Iscariot program:
About Judas, not a lot is known except that he was chosen to be an Apostle, he betrayed Jesus, and then he hung his-self. Not a lot to go on.
- The Last Days of Judas Iscariot
Truly I tell you: one of you will betray me…The Son of Man is going the way appointed for him in the scriptures; but alas for that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would be better for that man if he had never been born.
The story of Judas takes up a very small part of the Gospels. Judas was an apostle. He was trusted, respected, and yet he turned on his leader. Thirty pieces of silver were placed in his hand and the course of history was changed. Jesus was kissed and arrested, tried, beaten, and put on the cross. Judas killed himself before he was able to see Jesus’ resurrection. Jesus was revered and Judas was cast as the lowest of villains.
The stories continue to be told of Judas in Hell. Judas has been reviled throughout history, along with the Jews, Caiaphas the Elder, and Pontius Pilate. Dante envisioned Judas in the lowest level of Hell, hanging out of Satan's mouth. Only the recently unearthed Gospel of Judas shows Jesus and Judas working together. The apocryphal Gospel was admonished by early Church leaders and disappeared. God did not forgive Judas, and neither did man.
In Catholic school, Stephen Adly Guirgis was told the story of Judas. The nuns told him the story of God turning away from a man. The God that he had been told was forgiving did not forgive. This new view of a vengeful, unforgiving God made Guirgis doubt. That doubt stayed with him for years. In his introduction to the published edition of Judas, he writes,
From then on … I was in no hurry to seek out God. In fact, I had no sense of who or what God was. I did believe that “God” existed—I still do—but that was about it. And knowing or believing that God existed but avoiding him probably instilled in me a lot of shame and guilt. There’s nothing wrong with that. I wasn’t avoiding “God.” I was avoiding myself.
But Guirgis could not avoid exploring his spiritual connection for long. His doubts made him question God, and that questioning inspired his writing. In plays like Jesus Hopped the A Train and Our Lady of 121st Street, Guirgis fused his knowledge of the world surrounding him with his own spiritual quest. In The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, that quest became a trial.
Guirgis’ play questions faith and is at the same time an act of faith. The characters we see on stage come out of the Bible, but their voices come off the streets. The questions they ask are to both God and man: should Judas be forgiven? Should he have a reprieve from Hell? These are the questions asked in the courtroom. But Guirgis is implying something deeper. The arguments are not being made just for Judas. It is Guirgis on trial, it is all of us. In Guirgis’ courtroom, the audience is asked to see themselves. We are the jury, we are the judge, we are the defense, and we are the prosecution. We are Judas, stuck in self-doubt and despair, and we are Jesus, with the capability to bestow love and forgiveness. The questions we are left with are not about Judas and what has passed, but about our lives now. Can we forgive? And can we be forgiven?
