

Paul Rushworth-Brown | Australian Historical Novelist, Historian & Educator
Australian historical novelist • Historian • Interviewer • Educator
Paul Rushworth-Brown is an Australian historical novelist, historian, interviewer, and educator whose work explores the human cost of history through award-winning novels, historical research, international interviews, and free educational resources.
Creator of The Human Cost of History, Paul brings the past to life through stories of ordinary people facing extraordinary moments.
Featured on international television, radio, podcasts, and literary media across Australia, the United States, and the
United Kingdom
Read the free serialized historical mystery
Explore Paul's Historical Fiction
Jesus-Judas: Best Friends Forever by Ralph E. Jarrells
Winner – Religious Fiction Book of the Year (Maincrest Media Book Awards 2025) By Amanda Smith Media & Literary Strategist, Down Under Interviews There are few names in Western religious memory as fixed as Judas. His identity has become synonymous with betrayal. His character flattened by centuries of assumption. His motive rarely revisited with nuance. Yet in Jesus-Judas: Best Friends Forever, Ralph E. Jarrells asks a disarming question: What if we have made God’s mercy too narrow by the limits of our own certainty? Drawing inspiration from Frederick W. Faber’s hymn There’s a Wideness in God’s Mercy, Jarrells constructs a narrative that explores not simply betrayal — but relationship. Before treachery, he suggests, there was friendship. Before condemnation, there was proximity. And proximity complicates everything. Jesus-Judas re-entering a Familiar Story Jarrells does not approach the biblical account Jesus-Judas as revisionist spectacle. Instead, he widens the historical and theological lens. He examines: Extra-canonical writings Historical context beyond traditional orthodoxy The cultural distinctions between Galilee and Judea Judas’ familial and political positioning In his rendering, Judas Iscariot — Judah bar Simon — is not a caricature. He is a man embedded within expectation, family pressure, religious structure, and national tension. This is not an attempt to excuse. It is an attempt to understand. And that distinction matters. Parallel Lives One of the novel’s most compelling structural decisions is the tracing of Jesus and Judas in parallel — from pre-birth prophecy to formative childhood. Their lives unfold separately yet in quiet symmetry. The effect is unsettling. We are repeatedly reminded that destiny and agency coexist uneasily. That proximity to holiness does not immunise one from misunderstanding. That belief, when filtered through expectation, can distort even the closest bond. Jarrells invites readers to confront an uncomfortable possibility: Was Judas acting from malice — or from misjudged conviction? The novel does not preach an answer. It dramatizes the tension. Mercy Without False Limits At its theological heart, the work grapples with mercy. The endorsement by Rev. Dr. Lanny Lanford frames it clearly: we often “magnify His strictness with a zeal He will not own.” Jarrells dares to imagine what divine mercy might look like if human rigidity were loosened. For some readers, that will be provocative. For others, liberating. Either way, it moves the conversation from condemnation toward contemplation. A Late-Career Courage There is something quietly admirable about an author in his eighties choosing to explore one of Christianity’s most entrenched narratives. After a four-decade career in advertising, marketing, publishing, and award-winning international video production — and years of mission work in West Africa, Eastern Europe, Central America, and India — Jarrells turned to fiction not for comfort, but for challenge. Writing, for him, was not retirement leisure. It was inquiry. And in this novel — his third — he tackles perhaps the most complex moral question in Christian storytelling. Why It Matters Religious fiction at its best does not reinforce certainty. It tests it. Jesus-Judas: Best Friends Forever operates not as theological rebellion, but as theological expansion. It asks whether long-held narratives can sustain deeper scrutiny without collapsing. In a cultural moment where labels are quickly assigned and nuance often dismissed, revisiting Judas as a human being rather than a symbol invites a broader reflection: How easily do we reduce complex lives to singular acts? And what might we discover if we widen the frame?






