Are We All Judas?

There’s a poignant moment in the series The Chosen that stays with you long after the screen fades to black. In one particular scene, Judas approaches Jesus, confident, eager, and passionate. He believes the time has come for Jesus to take His "rightful" place as Messiah — not the suffering servant foretold by the prophets, but the triumphant king of Israel who will overthrow Rome and establish a kingdom on earth. Judas believes he understands the plan. He’s not just offering a suggestion to Jesus — he’s insisting that he knows what should happen.

Jesus, with heartbreaking gentleness, listens to Judas but responds with divine authority: “Do not presume to tell Me what is best.” At this, Judas walks away in frustration, perhaps even anger, feeling unheard. And then Jesus weeps. He doesn’t weep out of confusion or helplessness, but because He sees what’s coming — not only Judas’s betrayal, but the closed heart behind it.

And it begs the question: Are we all Judas?

How many times have we told Jesus, perhaps not with words, but with our actions, “I know what’s best”? How often do we resist His guidance, insisting instead on our plans, our timelines, our desires? We may not sell Him for thirty pieces of silver, but we often trade His will for comfort, convenience, or control.

When we pray with conditions — “Lord, help me… but only if it goes this way” — we echo Judas’s closed heart. When we decide that forgiveness is too hard, that loving our enemy is too much, or that the  teachings of the Church are too inconvenient, we step away like Judas, disappointed that Jesus is not the Messiah we expected.

Is Jesus weeping for us?

Yes. But not because He is angry. He weeps because He loves. He weeps because, like with Judas, He sees the tragedy of a heart that chooses its own way over the path of grace. His tears are those of a    parent watching a beloved child walk away from safety.

Jesus never forced Judas to stay. He never blocked the road to betrayal. But He loved him to the end. The same is true for us. Jesus respects our freedom - even to reject Him- but His heart breaks when we do.

So we must ask ourselves: Are our hearts open? Or are they closed by pride, hurt, fear, or self-righteousness?

This reflection isn’t meant to condemn, but to awaken. There’s a little bit of Judas in each of us — the part that thinks it knows better, the part that clings to control, the part that refuses to surrender. But we also carry within us the image of God, the capacity for repentance, and the invitation to intimacy with Christ.

Let Jesus into the closed places of your heart. Let Him speak truth where you’ve only wanted affirmation. And when He does -even if it challenges you- stay with Him. Listen. Trust. Because the only thing more powerful than our betrayal… is His love.

Blessings, 

Deacon Mike