Do you know how much Judas accepted to betray Jesus?
Thirty shekels.
A shekel was about four days’ wages. In today’s terms—roughly $23,000 in Australia. That’s just four months’ pay.
Judas sold his teacher, his friend, his master for the price of a short season of comfort.
As the biblical scholar William Barclay once remarked, “If greed was the cause of his act of treachery, it is the most terrible example in history of the depths which love of money can reach.”
There are many theories as to why Judas betrayed Jesus. But this year, I invite you to reflect not on Judas alone, but on the quiet, creeping power of money—how it can enter the heart, distort what we value, and lead even the well-intentioned to devastating ends.
Take, for instance, Bernie Madoff. A trusted figure in finance, a man admired by friends, investors—even his own family. Yet, behind the facade, he orchestrated the largest Ponzi scheme in history, stealing $65 billion.
And when it all collapsed, it didn’t just destroy fortunes—it shattered his family. One son died by suicide. Another died of cancer, burdened by shame. His wife was left in isolation.
He gained the world—and lost everything that truly mattered.
From ancient betrayals to modern tragedies, the lesson is the same:
When money becomes our master instead of our servant, it can poison the heart, corrode relationships, and leave only ruin behind.
So let us remember:
The things that matter most—integrity, compassion, love—are not bought or sold. They are lived. And in the end, it is not our wealth that defines us, but the condition of our hearts.
With love and hope,
Little-pencil
Little-pencil 