This post didn’t start out the way I planned.
I had an idea forming, but between work, life, and distractions, it never quite came together. I made some progress, but I wasn’t confident in the direction—so I was late getting it finished.
Then, sitting in church this morning, everything changed.
The sermon was from Matthew 26, focusing on the betrayal of Jesus by Judas. When the pastor reached Judas’ kiss, something struck me with fresh weight:
Judas is not just a villain in the story—we see ourselves in him.
WE all know Judas. But what if the real danger is not in being betrayed, but being the betrayer.
So often when we talk about Judas, the focus is on how we can be betrayed by people close to us. But Scripture presses us to look deeper—to ask how we, too, are capable of betraying the God of the universe.
Judas Had Every Advantage
Judas wasn’t an outsider.
He was invited into Jesus’ closest friends. He walked with Christ. He heard Jesus’s words firsthand. He listened as Jesus said:
Judas saw and heard everything
- “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”
- “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
- “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”
Judas saw the blind receive sight.
He watched demons flee.
He felt the boat steady as the storm was silenced.
He saw Lazarus walk out of the grave.
And yet—something was off.
Maybe Jesus didn’t meet Judas’ expectations.
Maybe the cost of discipleship was too high.
Maybe it wasn’t high enough.
We’re not told.
What we are told is this: for a handful of silver, Judas turned a moment of intimacy into an act of betrayal. A kiss—meant for affection—became an instrument of treachery.
The Graciousness of Christ
One of the most sobering realities in this account is the grace of Jesus.
Jesus knew what Judas would do.
And still—He welcomed him.
He taught him.
He blessed him.
He treated him no differently than the others.
That should stop us in our tracks.
Everyone Wanted Jesus Silenced
When you step back, you see four groups involved in Jesus’ death:
- Judas – a close companion
- Religious conservatives – the Pharisees
- Religious liberals – the Sanhedrin
- Secular authorities – the Romans
Different beliefs. Different motivations.
One shared goal: silence Jesus.
Not much has changed.
Some churches abandon the authority of Scripture because Jesus doesn’t align with cultural expectations. Others believe He isn’t strict enough—or that He’s too strict. And many in the secular world wish He would simply disappear altogether.
Yet the irony remains: people work incredibly hard to get rid of someone they claim doesn’t exist.
The Kiss of Death
Judas received countless blessings—yet he saw himself as his own master.
His kiss looked like devotion, but it was hollow. Scripture warns us about this kind of faith—“having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power” (2 Timothy 3:5).
Earlier in that passage Paul speaks of difficult days, people will be lovers of self, lovers of money and a whole list of what looks like today’s news reports. And it says they oppose the truth and disqualify their faith.
This is the danger of hypocrisy:
looking faithful while rejecting the truth, redefining Christ, and hollowing out the gospel.
Judas’ later sorrow was real—but it wasn’t repentance. The apostle Paul speaks of a sorrow that does not lead to repentance. Feeling bad is not the same as being transformed.
The Judas in Us
This is where the story turns uncomfortably personal.
- We’ve received forgiveness—but refuse to forgive others.
- We’ve been accepted by God—but withhold acceptance from those we dislike.
- We’ve received generously—yet resist giving sacrificially.
We enjoy the blessings of God while resisting His authority.
The sin that ultimately condemned Judas wasn’t the kiss.
It wasn’t the betrayal itself.
It was refusing to believe—to receive mercy—to trust Christ for salvation.
Mercy Still Speaks
Here is the good news:
our betrayal does not have to be the final word.
No matter how deep the failure, God’s mercy is greater.
During Lent as Christians reflect on Christ’s Passion (suffering), we’re reminded not only how painful our sin is—but how far Jesus was willing to go to redeem sinners.
What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? 33 Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. 34 Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?[1]
“If God is for us, who can be against us?”
Christ was not spared—so that mercy could be offered freely to all who repent and believe.
The question Judas leaves us with is simple—and urgent:
Will we receive Christ, or merely remain close to Him?
“We all know Judas. But what if the real danger isn’t being betrayed… it’s being the betrayer?
Judas saw everything. He heard everything. He walked with Jesus. And yet—he never truly believed.
That should terrify us.
You can be close to Jesus.
You can know the language.
You can enjoy the benefits.
And still miss the gospel entirely.
We redefine Jesus. We soften His words. We ignore obedience—while still enjoying His blessings.
That’s Judas-like faith.
The issue was never access.
It was never knowledge.
It was a heart that refused to submit in faith.
Salvation is not proximity to Christ—it’s union with Christ.
[1] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Ro 8:31–35). (2025). Crossway Bibles.
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