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The Confession of Judas - a Reblog

In my preparations for a recent sermon on  the anointing of Jesus by Mary at Bethany referred to yesterday, I remembered this piece, which in much older than yesterday's monnologue. I originally posted it in 2008, but I actually wrote it in 1999, as part of a production entitled "Testaments" staged in the grounds of Queens University, Belfast in 1999 - more than a quarter of a century ago - Terrifying!
But it is even older than that, and not entirely my own work, being a reworking of a soliloquy by Judas in different versions of medieval mystery/Passion plays, with phrases and entire lines lifted from Tony Harrison's famous adaptation of the York, Wakefield, Chester and Coventry Mysteries staged by the National Theatre in the early 1980s.
In it Judas comes across as a bit of a panto villain, but the self-justification and self-pity, with little sense of empathy is something that resonates with me when I look at some public figures at present.
It begins with a very un-PC phrase which would probably elicit a "content" warning if it were broadcast or staged today, but there were no such things in 1999, or 1980, never mind the middle ages!
Today's image is "Judas’s Betrayal" by Giotto di Bondone (1305) in the Arena Chapel, Padua, Italy, which I postedca few days ago on social media as part of my #LentArt challenge l.

I Judas, was unjustly injured by Jesus, the Jew,
And now am I perjured all of history through.
I tumbled to temptation, that much, sirs is true -
I diddled the disciples of their dole.

From the twelve’s total my own tenth I took.
Twas easy to do for I balanced the book.
Jesus never gave me a momentary look,
But now look at him... Damn his soul!

But in Bethany betimes my bale did begin,
When a woman named Mary just wandered right in,
Bringing beauteous box with best unction within.
I wondered what she was wanting to do...

Bowing by his bed, and breaking open the box,
She then larded the lot on your lordship’s long locks!
For a man such as me twas the worst of all shocks,
And I got into a bit of a stew...

"What I waste!" I did wail, "that woman hath wrought!
Sire certainly censure her, What could she have thought?
What blessing to t’burdened that balm might have bought!
Its pretty price provide plenty for t’poor!"

Please, please, for one more moment I pray you still stay,
And listen, your lordships what our Lord did then say:
"O Judas the poor shall be present alway,
But I will soon go away."

The poor’s plight pricked me not, to play no pretence.
What pricked me and pined me was the loss of my pence.
300 silver pence t’would have fetched at a fence.
And a tenth of that would have been mine.

But now tis made up,
And I go to sup,
On the money I got from the chief of the Jews -
30 fine siller pence I did take as my dues.
And one thing alone I must do...

Selah

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