I Am Judas

Before we judge Judas… we may need to look a little closer at ourselves.

“Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much”

Luke 16:10

✉️ I Am Judas

Picture this.

You’re sitting in church.
The music has quieted.
The pastor has just said, “Let’s pray over the offering.”

The ushers move row by row, passing the basket—humble, quiet hands slipping in folded bills, checks, even coins from children with big hearts and tiny wallets.

This isn’t just money—it’s worship.

A widow’s last dollar.
A single mom’s trust.
A teenager’s step of obedience.
A businessman’s silent thank you.

It’s gratitude, faith, and sacrifice placed gently into that basket.

Now imagine someone reaching into it.

Not to give.

But to take.

Not by accident.
Not by mistake.
But on purpose.

Their hand moves with stealth, fingers grazing through the pile, eyes darting to make sure no one sees.

They take from Jesus.

They take what was meant to honor the Savior.

And they walk away.

You feel it in your chest, don’t you?

The rise of disgust.
The sharp edge of judgment.
The fury that someone would dare rob the Son of God—while pretending to follow Him.

It’s unthinkable.
It’s unforgivable.
It’s Judas.

And yet…

as that thought began to form in my mind,
as I felt myself whisper, “What was he thinking?”

another thought rushed in like a flood, louder, heavier, sharper—

I am Judas.

💔 The Realization

No, I don’t steal from the offering plate.

But sometimes…

I don’t put anything in it at all.

No, I don’t take money that others give to God.

But I rob Him just the same.

I rob Him of the gifts He’s placed in me.

I rob Him of the time that belongs to Him—time I waste scrolling, doubting, stalling.

Time that could have been spent in prayer…
in service…
in love.

I rob Him when I stay quiet about my faith—when I pass someone who’s hurting, who’s wondering if God even sees them, and I say nothing.

I rob Him when I say, “I’ll pray for you,” but never do.

I rob Him when I withhold forgiveness.
When I choose comfort over calling.
When I justify my sin instead of repenting.

I rob Him when I let fear speak louder than obedience.

And here’s the truth:

Every time I say “yes” to myself instead of Him, I’m reaching into the basket.

✝️ The Mercy of Jesus

Maybe that sounds harsh.

But grace isn’t soft because sin is deadly.

And until we’re willing to see ourselves in Judas,
we’ll never understand the radical, undeserved love of Jesus.

Because even knowing Judas would betray Him…

Jesus still called him friend.

Still washed his feet.
Still offered him a seat at the table.

That’s not weakness.

That’s mercy.

And that same mercy meets me here.

In my guilt.
In my theft.
In my Judas moments.

🌿 There Is Still Hope

I don’t want to be Judas.

But if I’m honest…

I’ve been him.

And maybe… so have you.

But there’s hope in that realization.

There’s freedom in that conviction.

Because it means we can change.

We can repent.

We can turn around and say:

"Not anymore, Lord."

I will not rob You of another second.
I will not withhold the gifts You gave me.
I will not sit at Your table and pretend to follow—
I will rise, surrender, and truly live for You.

💭 Reflection

Where might you be holding something back from God today?

🙏 Prayer

Lord, forgive me for the moments I’ve chosen myself over You. Help me surrender my time, gifts, and heart completely. Teach me to live fully devoted to You. Amen.

🤍 A Final Thought

Today…

May we stop justifying our silence.
May we stop explaining away our disobedience.
May we stop reaching into the basket.

And may we offer God not just our money…

But our hearts.
Our gifts.
Our time.
Our everything.

Because He deserves it all.

And more.

💌 If this spoke to you, consider sharing it with someone who may need it today.