Judas couldn't understand Jesus' complete aloofness from money, and yet he was thankful for it; it meant Jesus never checked up to see how their financial condition was—only asked Judas to buy this or that from time to time, and even if some person tried to press a tithe into the Lord's hand to help them in their travels He always told them to take it to Judas, and didn't seem to want to even touch the coins. Judas' conscience could still rankle now and then, but he had managed long ago to justify himself completely in his financial schemes. He imagined Jesus would finally put him in charge of the whole treasury of the great new kingdom of which He spoke.

Judas' imagination went wild at the spectacular sight of him, Judas, being the one in total charge of the whole economy. Talk about rich! He thought of some of the ancient brazen vessels in the temple treasury, and even some shields and swords said to belong to David's time that had been recovered from the rubble when Zerubbabel and Ezra had begun to reconstruct the temple following the captivity in Babylon. Why, there were treasures to be contemplated that made his palms grow clammy and his eyes glaze over with a fevered heat. He was interested in archaeology too. He wanted very badly to investigate the rumors he had heard as a boy in the south of Judah about King Solomon's mines down near the Red Sea and along the soaring heights of Africa that spiced the stories of traders who came from distant lands where strange and exotic birds and animals lived.

Of late, Judas had allowed himself to dream beyond the lesser position of overseer of the treasury; his rambling imagination had probed into the weirdest possible areas. He had come to actually hate Jesus, hate His procrastination, His habit of demurring to attacks, and His lack of perception of how to use the power of the mob.

Why, He could have taken over the government a long time ago, if He had just used the gift of speaking He had, His strange powers of miracle-working, and allowed the herd to catapult Him into the very room of Herod himself—and even beyond Herod—to proclaim Himself absolute monarch, sending representatives to Rome and arranging complete recognition of the new government by pointing out the obvious disadvantages of another long, tedious campaign against Palestine—the vast expenditures in money, material and manpower—when the wealth of Palestine could continue to flow to Rome, by treaties of mutual respect and mutual protection.

Judas imagined he would convince the emperor by a quick military coup and add to the emperor's conquered territories. Caesar could hardly be angered by news of a successful military adventure wherein his imperial coffers were suddenly the richer by millions.

He would weigh the alternatives between choosing to view the takeover of Palestine as a threat to his empire in the East or the alternative of recognizing her, under Judas, as a partner, bound together by trading agreements, mutual defense pacts and Judas' commitment to Rome's further expansion.

Why, he could promise the Roman garrisons an increase in pay, better quarters and great rewards if they would assist in training the masses of rabble he would forge into an army. What if news of the revolution were tempered by the arrival of ten thousand slaves? Caesar could use the men in his galleys (even Judas could shudder a little at the thought, but, then, what difference would it really make?), and the women as household slaves for thousands of his nobles and favorites.

His mind plunged on and on.

He would send an expert in copper and mining to Rome, would have him explain how successful expeditions into Africa, and into the fabled land of "Put" from which Solomon had brought apes, ivory and peacocks, could increase the flow of valuable metals for arms, metals for all purposes. There were the new experiments in making hollow tubes of metal for conducting water from place to place to who knew what.

"Aes cyprium" would be plentiful, if he could locate the fabled King Solomon's mines. Most people were calling the metal "cyprium" for short, or, in the language of the common folk, "cuprum." Little could Judas know that, centuries later, the greenish, reddish metal used in the cheapest coins and, when alloyed with tin for spears and swords, would be perverted to "copper."

Would Peter go along? Would Andrew, or James, or John? Judas wondered; he doubted it. The only way would be if Peter were sufficiently disgusted over the Lord's continual refusal to fight, His continual backing down in the face of threats. Judas knew Peter's moods, knew how Peter sulked when his natural impetuousity, combined with his considerable physique and muscular development, led him to take direct action. He had seen the dozens of times that Peter's horny hand had strayed to the hilt of his Roman short sword he carried, seen him work himself into a sweat, hacking a brush for starting a fire with unnecessary vigor, as if he wished the brush were Roman heads instead of firewood.

Judas had spoken often enough to Thaddeus, and to Simon, the swarthy disciple from Canaan, and to Alphaeus' son, James. Even Bartholomew had allowed himself to give voice to some apprehension over the future and had expressed fear that Jesus might give up just before the final step in the coup were complete.

Judas' emotions would run wild at times like this, when he would abandon himself to impossible dreams, and yet . . . was it so impossible? Jesus seemed reluctant to seize just the right opportunities. Certainly that huge mob of five thousand people in the Galilean heights had been at a fever pitch for action. Why, they were going to take Jesus forcibly and put Him on their shoulders for a triumphal march into the capital.

Judas knew Jesus wasn't making anywhere near enough mileage out of the fabulous miracle-working power He had. Time and again the Lord would tell the members of the mob (Judas never thought of the masses of people as anything other than a herd, a flock or a mob; his contempt for the common people was a part of him) not to mention the miracles to anyone when a more clever person would have contrived to perform the miracles right in front of the most influential people possible, right in the eyesight of the leaders, backed up by sufficient of the herd to ensure he wouldn't dare deny it.

In the beginning Judas had a love-hate relationship with Jesus. He loved, admired and even feared Him. He didn't recognize that he also envied Him and would have been profoundly shocked if someone had accused him of it. It was just that his scheming mind could quickly analyze possibilities for immense profits when it seemed Jesus was oblivious to such opportunities. They could easily have placed leaders in charge of a few here and a few there, Judas thought; could have designated captains of tens, fifties, hundreds and thousands. It was the ancient pattern, probably the pattern of David's army, and was certainly the governmental system Moses used. The herd would fall into it naturally, for it had been taught them since their youth. They could have had upwards of two hundred thousand men ready to march by now, and instead Jesus had managed to frighten away even a significant number of their original one hundred and twenty.

Judas would slip into dark and dangerous moods, even imagining what would happen if Jesus were killed in one of the many riots when the angry leaders incited the crowds. Who would seize power? Peter would try, probably. Certainly John and Andrew were incapable of it, forever hanging back and soft spoken. John's manner made Judas' flesh crawl. He seemed so fawning, so obsequious around Jesus, and the Lord actually appeared to enjoy his company. It made Judas' blood boil to see the continual snubs he had been handed. Almost every time some special thing was about to occur, Jesus called James, Peter and John over to Him, and the four of them would set out with never a by-your-leave.

Judas passionately wanted to know where they had gone and what had happened when they had disappeared in the direction of Hermon that time and stayed away for days on end. Peter's manner had been one of renewed awe, and even fear toward the Lord after they had returned, and Judas couldn't for the life of him find out why. He had tried to pump them, but their lips were firmly sealed, and even after Judas had plied Peter with a special wineskin he said he had purchased at a bargain (which he had, but not with Peter in mind) and watched him put away more than half of it, Peter's tongue stayed firmly fastened in his head.

Judas loved Jesus dearly, he told himself. He loved Him more than all the others put together; deserved to be far closer to the Lord because of that deep affection, was more fiercely loyal, more concerned, more dedicated to the great causes. Judas couldn't know that his love for Christ was a self-centered love of desire toward Jesus because of jealousy, that his own mind deluded himself into confusing his desperate desire for sharing (or hogging) the limelight, being at the center of power, the focus of attention, with love. To him it was love, the only kind of love he really had yet experienced, for the true love of outgoing concern for that person being loved was totally foreign to him; he had never felt it.

That love Judas felt drove him into the darkest moods of depression when he saw Jesus falling short of the kind of Jesus Judas wanted Him to be. Judas deeply loved the Jesus of his dreams, a Jesus nearer Judas' own heart's desire, made in the image of a great, powerful leader who mesmerized the masses with stentorian thunder, who was of the stuff of emperors, kings, generals, who inspired only loyalty and abject, servile love in His subjects. Judas' perceptions of Jesus—the perfect Jesus the way Judas imagined He should be—became clouded with self-image. Judas couldn't know he was listening to an inner voice from the most subtle, powerful, persuasive spirit being on earth, Satan himself. He only knew that everyone said you got angriest at the ones you loved the most and so convinced himself his frequent private rages over Jesus' conduct were only because he saw Jesus falling short of Judas' own image of Him—hurting Himself, as it were—and Judas believed his outrage was completely justified.

From the beginning of his travels with the Lord, Judas had been content to be the treasurer, adviser in money matters and the special person trusted with specific duties uniquely his own (because of his vast experience, personal training and expertise, of course). Judas frequently told Simon the Canaanite, who was one of his most willing listeners, how he had given up a lucrative exchange and banking business to live this life of sacrifice. He waxed eloquent with Simon about how he would surely have controlled half the publicans in Jerusalem by now, would have reorganized the entire foreign exchange system at the borders and would have been coming to the notice of Herod himself because of his financial and legal genius.

He despised John, that a simple fisherman should have Jesus' attention, be at His side so much of the time and be privy to special information, accompanying the Lord on mysterious side trips—when He, Judas, was obviously more intelligent, better educated and more qualified in ever way to be at Jesus' right hand—constantly galled him. Besides, John had made a slur once, following a purchase Judas had made. With that secret part of his mind that didn't let Judas look at himself plainly, his deepest consciousness, he hated himself. But with his other self he fought fiercely to maintain a pose of total integrity, honesty and financial expertise.

He wondered, with the dark side of his mind, whether John knew he had been covertly pilfering from their common funds. Yet, with fierce intensity, he continually struck the pose of honest innocence, and, in order to shut the mouths of those who would dare impugn his "integrity," he would fly into uncontrollable rages at any slight.

John had made some notes that time, and Judas had managed to sneak a look at them.. John had written: "Judas; carries bag; thief?" There was more: rambling lines about a possible betrayal!

A thief?

He had stormed over those notes for days before confronting John during one of Jesus' absences for prayer. But first he had made various threats against John to Simon, and to Thaddeus, and Bartholomew. He would go to the Sanhedrin itself, he had ranted. To bear false witness was a crime punishable by stoning!

"I will sue him for everything he is worth, and his family too. I'll have him in and out of a court of law for the next five years! " he had screamed to Simon! He knew Simon would carry the story to John and hoped that would be sufficient to scare John off, make him change his mind. And, under the threat of being tied up in lawsuits, or charged with a major crime, perhaps he would back off and not mention Judas in his damnable notes.

He waited for days without noticing any thawing in John's attitude.

John and Simon the Canaanite were the only two around the camp when he had returned early from a nearby village; Jesus was up in the nearby mountains and the others were either with Him or scattered about attending to their own matters. Judas had opened the conversation by complaining about the cheating villagers in the market, muttering aloud that "you can't trust any of those thieving cheats" and defaming all publicans, customs-house men (with a deliberate slur on Matthew's reputation) and money changers. Then he launched into a long diatribe about his own background, reputation and honesty.

He said, "John, you gave up nothing, really! You can go back to your family fisheries business and everything will be there waiting for you just as it was. You lose nothing. Any inheritance will be secure for you and your family. But me? I left a lucrative business, gave up everything! I was at the absolute top of the class, sitting at the feet of Zacchaeus' top three Levites, who taught me all there is to know about financial matters, even minting, and mining, and foreign exchange! I am a man with a reputation among the entire financial community, and I know the law! I will not stand having my reputation questioned!"

John had merely continued cleaning their utensils, scrubbing them with the sand of the creek bed and packing them away in the packs, leaning against the trees.

Judas couldn't stand the thought of John coming out with any specifics right in front of Simon, the swarthy disciple from Canaan, so he decided not to demand John go and alter his notes right there and then. Probably the other tack, that of frightening him so badly he would never dare use those notes or show them to anyone else, was best.

"Thank God the Lord gave me the responsibility of treasurer, handling all our financial affairs, John!" Judas laughed, trying to change his approach. "With your simple fisherman's honesty you'd probably have been stolen blind by these filthy thieves in the markets these days. You'd probably be unable to hang onto what we have, let alone see it increase by skillful dealing and saving money for all of us the way I have done."

John had been noncommittal, and that had galled Judas all the more, but after he had waxed eloquent over several examples of the dishonesty of others, and given himself plaudits for his financial genius, and the savings he was making their group, he broke off the conversation. Besides, here came Peter and James and, not far behind them, the others. Judas hoped his warning had been plain; hoped it would do the job.

At least John was a mild mannered, closed-mouthed sort. Jesus couldn't stand gossipers, and one of the things that endeared Him to John was John's stolid qualities. Judas feverishly hoped John would not defame him to Jesus; he couldn't stand that!

Perhaps one of the things Judas coveted the most was simple approval from Jesus—being noticed, held in esteem and appreciated. But no matter how hard he strove to capture the Lord's favor, no matter the hints he dropped or the stories he related about how expertly he had handled some sly money changer who had tried to rob their common purse by clipping coins, it seemed Jesus continually had that quiet reserve, that steady look that burned right through Judas' heart and that made him fidget nervously, finding himself running out of words, blinking furiously and looking aside.

The more he strove for reputation, the more his mind became embittered toward the Lord. It wasn't fair! He, Judas, would make all of them put together ashamed. He would show them! He was the only really astute, well educated, "professional" in the entire group! Why, even Matthew, whose name was Levi, seemed to be an unambitious clerk. Anyone who had worked for so long in the customs department handling all that money and yet was not wealthy, and who had immediately left what should have been a promising professional career and followed Jesus—the man had to be stupid! No—Peter and Andrew—simple fishermen! The same for James and John! Their very hands and clothing reminded Judas of the reek of the fishmongers' shops along the waterfronts.

Luke? A petty peddler of herbs and potions. Perhaps he knew a thing or two about the workings of the body, and was a physician of sorts, but to Judas' best information Luke was poor enough and had never made much money. Judas was contemptuous of anyone who didn't know the value of gold—money—and who couldn't prove his worth by seeing to it that a substantial amount of the stuff stayed in his own pockets.

Here they were, with all the ingredients necessary for one of the greatest revolutions in the world. It boggled Judas' mind.

First there were, the restive masses, exploited from both the Romans and their own puppet leaders, the Herods and their kin, like the various tetrarchs. They were notorious for their sumptuous living and their appetites that lay clearly beyond the Torah. Further, the struggling herders, farmers, fishers, coopers, carpenters, traders and the dozens of other occupations were so stringently taxed, or cheated, by the publicans, threatened out of their money by the Pharisees or robbed by Romans soldiers—all this provided fertile breeding ground for promised reform in the person of a powerful leader who could promise redistribution of wealth, promise every family a piece of the land and the freedom to work it.

Second, there was the fervent hope of Israel, the coming of Messiah! Weekly in the temple, and daily in every home, the prayers and supplications spoke of the hope of revolution, the coming of Messiah to restore the grandeur of the kingdom. Didn't the prophets promise that the glory of the temple, and therefore the kingdom it represented, would be even greater than the splendor of Solomon's own? Of course, the elderly spoke behind their hands and softly in the marketplaces and the wine shops whenever a Roman chanced along who just might understand Hebrew, but they spoke of it nevertheless. Never was a family supper enjoyed without the elder of the house referring to delivery—a Messiah—restoration!

Rumors of Rome's military needs from beyond the Gates of Hercules to Africa, and from here in Palestine to India, kept many a mother casting anxious glances at a strong young son who could be conscripted to serve. The rigors of the legions were well known, and the brutality such rigors bred. Runaways and deserters ended up as galley slaves, likely, or, if they were fortunate, dead. But death through crucifixion, that most brutal of methods whereby a person was mortally wounded through scourging and then hoisted aloft to croak out his desperate pain, terrible thirst and prayers for death for hours in a blazing sun—even the galleys were to be chosen over such a fate. What chance was there? Judas suspected many a mother had gouged out the eye of a beloved baby boy just to make him unfit for duty in the legions and a better beggar on the streets. There were plenty of those.

If ever a people were ripe for revolution, it was the Jewish people of this Herodian period. Exploited, downtrodden, poverty stricken, diseased—lepers walked along the roads crying out "Leper! Leper!" so the others could hastily give them wide berth. The ghastly disfigurements of those hapless wretches who had survived the army, or even the galleys (very rare, indeed), were evident in the streets. Feeble beggars who could scarcely rise from their pallets lay, covered with flies, right at the city gates. One could scarcely go shopping or visiting in the markets without a dozen of the scarecrow figures clutching at the hem of his garment, begging.

And in the midst of all this suffering strode a strong, young, powerful Man, a Man of the trades, right out of their own miserable ranks, from Galilee—Jesus, Son of Joseph the contractor and carpenter; Jesus, who spoke for all the people and who called Himself "Son of Man" and even "the Son of God."

And the people believed, Judas mused. How they believed! He had produced food where there was none; walked on water, restored withered hands, changed water into the finest wine, strode authoritatively into the temple itself and thrown the cheating exchangers and cattle dealers out. He had even raised the dead! Jairus' daughter and the whole family willingly repeated the story to all who would listen, and the widow at Nain and her boy bore witness! So did Lazarus.

Yet Jesus hesitated!

But now, or even last year, was the time!

Why did He continue to wait?

Judas didn't know. He only knew that the fantastic opportunity might not ever again present itself, knew that rumors already said the Romans were thinking of asking for reinforcements to quell any future uprisings. He hoped, passionately, that either Jesus would act soon, or that somehow he, Judas, could be given a greater dimension in the direction of their growing cadre of leaders and bring about the coup himself!

And what better time than now, during this Passover season? Would there be some opportunity for Judas to replace Jesus, to take over the others? He had made significant headway with Simon the Canaanite and some others, but there was always the chance the Lord would change and quit playing favorites with John and James and Peter! The streets of the city were teeming with people from all over the eastern part of the empire, and Jesus seemed intent on exposing Himself to the crowds. Perhaps He did intend to do something truly dramatic this Passover.

There were a number of Greeks at the Passover. Greek traders dealt with some of the frontier cities, especially Bethsaida, and it happened that some of them had known Philip, who was another of the disciples from that city.

They found him and asked if it were possible for them to see Jesus. Philip said he would check to find out and told Andrew about it. Andrew, Peter's brother, took Philip to see Jesus. Jesus not only agreed to let the Greeks see Him, but seized the opportunity to give a mysterious but very powerful message about being "lifted up from the earth" and said, "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto Myself!"

It seemed some of the Greeks were from cities in Asia, like Ephesus (where the great temples of Diana and Asklepios were), and even from Corinth and Thessalonica. One of them was named Titus, like the great Roman general, and there were several other common Greek names.

Jesus was spending up to nine hours in the temple each day, and, as the Passover grew nearer, His messages grew more powerful and intense and caused continual controversy.

Each evening He would leave with His disciples and walk all the way back across the brook Kidron and climb the hills up to the Mount of Olives.