I noted previously that in Romans Paul has a dualistic interpretation of sin dealt with by Christ’s cross. On the one hand, we have substitutionary atonement to pay the fine for man’s transgressions. This balances the books, but what if someone keeps sinning? What is needed is a change/growth of moral disposition. Paul reckoned God didn’t make a fundamental error in how man was made, so Sin as a demonic entity/force must be possessing humans and forcing humans to transgress against their will. We say “I was beside myself with rage,” for example. And so, one of Jesus’ closest followers, Judas, had Satan possess Judas, and Judas betrayed Christ, the spell being broken when Judas fully recognized what he had done.
In the Gospels:
- Satan “enters” Judas (Luke 22:3; John 13:27), prompting him to betray Jesus to the authorities for 30 pieces of silver.
- After the betrayal leads to Jesus’ arrest and condemnation, Judas realizes the harm he’s caused (contributing to the innocent Jesus’ impending death).
- Filled with remorse, he returns the money to the chief priests and elders, confessing, “I have sinned by betraying innocent blood” (Matthew 27:4). He then hangs himself in despair (Matthew 27:5; Acts 1:18 offers a variant where he falls and dies).
The text implies that the satanic influence lifted after the betrayal, enabling Judas to feel regret over the consequences. This isn’t a traditional exorcism (no external ritual), but the realization of harm coincides with the end of the possession’s control, leading to Judas’ self-inflicted punishment rather than redemption. Satan departing allows Judas’ disposition of Greed to whither, free will to return and remorse to set in.
For Paul our moral compass can be awakened when something horrific circumcises the fleshly on our hearts to reveal the law written on it, crucifying our worldly nature and revealing our spiritual nature. The exemplary case for Paul is what happens when we learn about the devious Jewish elite orchestrating the corrupt torture and murder of God’s especially beloved Jesus by the Romans because God’s law would not let the Jewish elite kill Jesus themselves. We see ourselves in those who wrongfully killed Jesus, and it awakens something in us. For example, someone analogously might watch a video of cruelty to animals, and it opens their eyes (in the sense we say Adam’s or Saul/Paul’s eyes were opened) to their sinful nature and they make a decision to become Vegan.
This idea of the awakening and expansion of one’s moral compass in response to one’s terrible behavior as a result of demonic possession is an interesting facet of ancient belief. The demonic possession is overcome by the inner light of the person. For example, a lot of work has been done on seeing the influence of Euripides’ Bacchae on the Jesus story, especially Acts and the Gospel of John. In this tragedy by Euripides, the god Dionysus (also called Bacchus) induces a frenzied possession in the women of Thebes, including Agave (mother of King Pentheus), as punishment for denying his divinity. The women, known as Maenads or Bacchae, roam the mountains in ecstatic madness, performing superhuman acts like tearing animals apart with their bare hands.
- Dionysus lures Pentheus to spy on the rituals, then reveals him to the possessed women.
- Agave, in her frenzy, mistakes her son Pentheus for a wild lion and leads the Maenads in dismembering him alive (a ritual act called sparagmos).
- Agave returns to Thebes triumphantly carrying Pentheus’ severed head, still under the spell and believing it to be a trophy from the hunt.
- Her father, Cadmus, confronts her and guides her through a dialogue to recognize the head as her son’s. As she gradually realizes the horrific harm she’s caused—killing her own child—the frenzy fades, and the possession breaks. She’s left in devastated horror, leading to her exile.
This is a clear case where external prompting leads to self-realization of the harm, which in turn dispels the divine madness. The play emphasizes themes of hubris and the dangers of resisting the gods, with Agave’s awakening serving as a tragic climax.
Somewhat similarly, there is Ajax in Sophocles’ Ajax (c. 440 BCE). The goddess Athena drives the warrior Ajax into madness after he loses Achilles’ armor in a contest. He slaughters livestock, believing them to be his enemies (the Greek leaders). When the madness lifts (externally, by divine will), he realizes his actions have brought shame and failed to harm his intended targets, leading to overwhelming remorse and suicide. This is similar in aftermath but not exact—the realization follows the end of madness, rather than causing it to break. Also, there is Lycurgus in Various Myths (e.g., Homer’s Iliad and Later Sources): King Lycurgus of Thrace opposes Dionysus and is driven mad by the god. In his frenzy, he kills his son Dryas, mistaking him for a grapevine. After the act, he recovers his senses and is horrified by the harm to his child. The madness seems to end naturally post-deed, allowing realization, but it’s not explicitly broken by the remorse.
In any case, we might realize that the senseless bloodshed of the ancient Roman arena was horrific from the distance of our perspective thousands of years later, but get that if we were Roman citizens at the time we probably would have cheered along with everyone else. Similarly, Mark satirizes the corrupt trial of Jesus before the Jewish high council (e.g., meeting on Passover Eve), but if we were in the shoes of those who condemned Jesus back then, we very well might have done the same thing to Jesus – Similar case with those who killed Socrates.
The original bible story was that God made a mistake in the way he created man (Genesis 6:5-8) and so had to flood the world. For the Christians, man was seemingly imperfect but had the Law on his heart that could be awakened by the understanding of the Jesus story, and of course in other ways.