I have sinned. He confesses his sin, indeed, yet not to God, but to the partners and instigators of his crime, and this, not with godly sorrow, but in self-disgust and vexation of spirit that could not be repressed.
His was the sorrow that worketh death (2 Corinthians 7:10). In that I have betrayed [the] innocent blood ( αἷμα ἀθῷον, or, according to some manuscripts, αἷμα δι ìκαιον, but in either case without the article).
By speaking of "blood," he showed that he knew the murder was certain. Judas seems to have had no faith in Christ's Divinity, but he had perfect assurance of his holiness and innocence, and felt, and endeavoured to make the rulers feel, that an iniquitous sentence had been passed, and that a guiltless person was condemned to death.
This consideration added to the bitterness of his regret. But he obtained no comfort from the hardened and unfeeling priests. They had gotten what they had desired. The question of Christ's moral guilt or innocence was nothing to them; equally indifferent to them was the fierce remorse of Judas.
What is that to us? τι ì προ Ìς ἡμᾶς; See thou to that ( συ Ì ὀ ìψει, tu videris, equivalent to "that is your concern," as in Matthew 27:24). A more unfeeling, nay, fiendish answer could not have been given.
It threw the wretched man back on himself, left him alone with his remorse, the blackness of his night unrelieved by any ray of human sympathy. In their own obduracy and impenitence they scorn the weakness of their miserable tool.
As Bengel well moralizes, "Impii in facto consortes, post factum deserunt; pii, in facto non consortes, postea medentur." To sympathize with repentance is the duty and the privilege of the Christian; to deride and scoff at the returning sinner is devilish.
It is profitable to contrast the sincere repentance of Peter after his fall with the remorse of the despairing Judas.