Plot summary: In “Three Versions of Judas” (Tres versiones de Judas), Jorge Luis Borges tells the story of Nils Runeberg, a fictional Swedish theologian who devotes his life to studying the figure of Judas Iscariot. In his works, Runeberg develops a series of theories that radically reinterpret Judas’ betrayal, first claiming that his act was a necessary sacrifice in the divine plan and, finally, that Judas was an incarnation of God. As he delves deeper into his thinking, Runeberg moves away from religious orthodoxy, is condemned by theologians, and ends up in tormented isolation. His last work, ignored by all, argues that God’s sacrifice had to be absolute, including infamy and eternal damnation, and that this is why he decided to be Judas. Convinced that he has revealed a divine secret that should not be known, Runeberg goes mad and dies alone after wandering the streets of Malmö.
Warning
The following summary and analysis is only a semblance and one of the many possible readings of the text. It is not intended to replace the experience of reading the story.
Summary of Three Versions of Judas, by Jorge Luis Borges
In the short story Three Versions of Judas, Jorge Luis Borges narrates the life and ideas of the fictional theologian Nils Runeberg, a profoundly religious 20th-century Swedish scholar and member of the National Evangelical Union. Through his works Kristus och Judas (1904) and Den hemlige Frälsaren (1909), Runeberg develops a series of provocative theological hypotheses that reinterpret the figure of Judas Iscariot, the apostle traditionally considered the betrayer of Jesus Christ. These theses led him to formulate increasingly radical theories about Judas’ role in God’s plan of redemption.
Runeberg started from a basic observation: if Jesus was a public figure who performed miracles and preached openly, why was Judas’ betrayal necessary to identify him? According to Runeberg, this act could not have been accidental or unnecessary. It was, instead, part of a divine plan. Starting from this premise, he proposes that Judas’ betrayal was a necessary and deliberate act designed to allow the crucifixion and, with it, the redemption of humanity. According to Runeberg, Judas was the only apostle who fully understood Jesus’ divinity and purpose. Just as Jesus humbled himself by becoming a man, Judas humbled himself morally by accepting the role of the traitor, the vilest of men, as an extreme form of sacrifice. Just as Christ bore the physical suffering of the cross, Judas bore eternal infamy, making himself unworthy, hated, and condemned. His voluntary death was not suicide but a supreme act of humility.
These ideas earned Runeberg the condemnation of many theologians, who accused him of ignoring fundamental doctrines such as the hypostatic union—the divine and human duality of Christ—and reproducing ancient heresies. Despite the criticism, Runeberg pressed on but reinterpreted his approach. In his second work, Den hemlige Frälsaren, he abandons explicit theology and expounds his most disturbing thesis: God incarnated in Judas, not in Jesus. For Runeberg, God did not merely suffer physically on the cross; the true sacrifice was much deeper. If God truly became man, then he must have experienced everything it means to be human, including the capacity to sin and be despised. In this extreme reasoning, he concludes that the divine sacrifice was so absolute that God chose the lowest and most abject destiny of all: not that of the glorious martyr but that of the condemned traitor. According to Runeberg, God incarnated himself in Judas, the most infamous man, to consummate a perfect sacrifice.
This thought culminates in a vision in which the figure of Judas is not only the instrument of sacrifice but also its true protagonist. His choice was not out of greed or error but out of a total renunciation of all good, even redemption. The figure of Judas as a secret redeemer represents the ultimate act of asceticism and humility: not only renouncing salvation but also every trace of glory, willingly bearing the guilt of the world.
The publication of these ideas did not cause the scandal that Runeberg anticipated. His book fell into oblivion among both theologians and the general public. This widespread indifference did not disappoint him; instead, he interpreted it as a divine sign: God did not want his terrible secret to be known. Overwhelmed by his revelation, Runeberg became obsessed with his guilt, convinced that he had committed blasphemy by revealing God’s hidden name, and begged to be condemned alongside Judas. Finally, in 1912, he died of an aneurysm after wandering the streets in despair. His legacy will be remembered by scholars of heresy, who will see in him a tragic figure who took the complexity of evil and divine sacrifice to the extreme.
Characters from Three Versions of Judas, by Jorge Luis Borges
The central and dominant character in the story Three Versions of Judas is Nils Runeberg, a deeply devout fictional theologian of Swedish origin who devotes his life to studying the figure of Judas Iscariot from a heterodox and radical perspective. Borges constructs him as an intellectually rigorous but obsessive and tragic character whose entire life revolves around a single theological theme that consumes him until the end. Runeberg is not a casual thinker or a superficial provocateur: his dedication is genuine, fueled by a fervent faith and an almost mystical need to find meaning in the mystery of redemption. This unshakeable faith leads him to develop increasingly extreme and risky theories. First, he posits that Judas did not act out of greed but out of obedience to a divine plan; then, in an escalation of reasoning, he identifies Judas with God himself incarnate. This intellectual journey is marked by rigorous logic but taken to the limit, which progressively distances him from orthodoxy and leads him to an almost mystical isolation. Runeberg does not seek to provoke the world; a profound and terrible truth drives him that he can hardly bear. His end, wandering and disturbed, shows a man overwhelmed by the magnitude of his revelation, convinced that he has crossed the ultimate boundary of divine knowledge.
In contrast to Runeberg, the other characters in the story function mainly as secondary figures who allow us to understand and react to his ideas. Among them are several theologians who criticize his thesis. Lars Peter Engström accuses him of overlooking the doctrine of hypostatic union—the coexistence of divinity and humanity in Christ—which would imply that Runeberg is denying one of the pillars of Christian dogma. Axel Borelius, for his part, accuses him of reviving the heresy of the Docetists, who claimed that Jesus was not truly human but merely an appearance. These voices are not developed in-depth, but their inclusion is not decorative: they represent the rejection by the institutional theological world of a vision that goes beyond what is acceptable and marks Runeberg’s heresy from a doctrinal perspective. Furthermore, they show that his ideas did not go unnoticed but provoked a critical and forceful reaction, reinforcing Runeberg’s image as a modern heresiarch.
Another secondary character is the Danish Hebraist Erik Erfjord, author of the prologue to Runeberg’s second book. His prologue, “lukewarm to the point of enigmatic,” and the choice of the accompanying biblical epigraph suggest deliberate ambiguity. It is unclear whether Erfjord supports or merely tolerates Runeberg’s ideas. Still, his inclusion adds an interesting nuance: he is a figure who, from his position of erudition, attests to the radical nature of Runeberg’s thinking without daring to reject it openly. Through this character, Borges reinforces the tension between knowledge and blasphemy, between revelation and silence.
Finally, although he does not appear as an active character, the figure of Judas Iscariot is central to the story. In Runeberg’s intellectual and theological world, Judas ceases to be a historical figure and becomes a symbol. Borges does not directly narrate Judas’s life but reconstructs it through Runeberg’s eyes, transforming him into a hidden redeemer. Judas is a figure who traverses all levels of human and religious thought: he goes from rejection to praise, from betrayal to absolute devotion, and from eternal damnation to possible deification. In constructing this conceptual character, Borges shows us how a figure can be broken down, reinterpreted, and re-signified until it reflects our questions about good, evil, sacrifice, and the divine.
Analysis of Three Versions of Judas, by Jorge Luis Borges
In Three Versions of Judas, Jorge Luis Borges constructs a story that, although presented as an academic article or critical biography, is, in fact, a deeply philosophical work of fiction. The story does not revolve around a conventional plot, with actions, visible conflicts, or dramatic outcomes. Instead, Borges tells us the story of the thoughts of an imaginary character, Nils Runeberg, a theologian who dedicates his life to reinterpreting the figure of Judas Iscariot, the apostle who betrayed Jesus. The story unfolds in the realm of ideas and challenges our conceptions of good and evil, faith, sacrifice, and the possibility that even the greatest act of betrayal may conceal a divine purpose.
Runeberg’s story unfolds through his writings, which evolve into increasingly radical ideas. Borges tells us that Runeberg began by wondering why Judas’ betrayal was necessary since Jesus was already a public figure known to all. From this initial question, Runeberg concludes that Judas’ act was neither an accident nor a mistake but part of a sacred plan. From there, Runeberg develops increasingly risky theories: first, he claims that Judas did not betray out of greed but as part of a voluntary sacrifice; then that he renounced heaven, honor, and his soul to fulfill the divine will; and finally, he proposes that Judas was not simply the instrument of sacrifice, but that he was God incarnate. These ideas distance him from all religious orthodoxy and lead him to loneliness, delirium, and, ultimately, death.
Borges proposes not only a reinterpretation of the biblical character of Judas but also a reflection on the limits of thought and the obsession with finding absolute meaning in religious mysteries. Runeberg represents the intellectual who takes his reasoning to its ultimate consequences without stopping at scandal or rejection. His path is also a tragedy: in seeking such a profound and dangerous truth, he feels guilty for having revealed what he should not have, as if he had uttered the forbidden name of God. The story ends with Runeberg alone, wandering the streets, begging to be condemned alongside the Judas he admires and with whom he identifies.
From a literary point of view, Borges constructs this story as if it were an essay or an academic note. He references fictional books, authentic and apocryphal authors, biblical quotations, theological arguments, and erudite notes. This strategy gives the story an air of documentary seriousness that subtly conceals the fact that everything narrated—from the character of Runeberg to his books—is invented. However, the invention is so well constructed that the reader begins to doubt: what if Runeberg had existed? Borges plays with this ambiguity. It is not just a matter of narrating but of inviting the reader to think, to ask questions, and to distrust the obvious.
One of the keys to understanding the story is to understand how Borges uses the figure of Judas not only to talk about religion but also to raise questions about human knowledge. For Runeberg, Judas is an ambiguous figure: he is not only a traitor or a saint, nor is he only guilty or only a redeemer. He is both at the same time. This ambiguity is central to Borges’ work. The author does not tell us what to think about Judas, God, or religion. He shows us how thought can construct seemingly logical truths that nevertheless border on the abyss. In this sense, the story can also be interpreted as a warning about the risks of taking ideas too far and the danger of breaking the boundaries of what is understandable and acceptable.
Although the story is set in the 20th century and deals with ancient religious ideas, its theme remains relevant today. The figure of Runeberg can represent anyone who, whether out of faith or reason, becomes obsessed with finding a complete explanation for the world. In the process, they risk losing themselves. Instead of providing answers, Borges confronts us with the most challenging questions: What if evil were not so clearly distinct from good? What if the greatest sacrifice were not to die, but to live with the weight of infinite guilt? What if God had chosen not the path of the glorious hero but that of the despised traitor?
This story, therefore, does not merely narrate a strange theological theory. It explores the limits of human thought, the need to seek meaning in the incomprehensible, and the price we pay for trying to unravel the most profound mysteries. Borges does not expect us to believe in Runeberg’s theory, but he does invite us to consider that what we take for granted may, in the end, be just one construction among many other possible ones. The entire story moves within this tension between truth, error, faith, and doubt. And it is in this tension that its power lies.
