Originally posted Feb. 26, 2014, at Country Preacher’s Corner. Republished with permission of the author.
Yeah. I took one of those cute Facebook quizzes. Which disciple of Jesus are you? What did I get? Judas Iscariot. A pastor gets Judas Iscariot. Wonder how long it will be before I get asked to tender my resignation?
Here was the caption underneath the pic:
“Black sheep, loner, ne’er-do-well, rebel… You’re the kind of person who’s never really fit in with the crowd and you’re okay with that. You do your own thing and live by your own rules. (Also, people don’t really seem to trust you for some reason. You might want to work on that.)”
Black sheep? Maybe.
Loner. Definitely.
Ne’er-do-well. Not so much.
Rebel. Probably.
“You’re the kind of person who’s never really fit in with the crowd and you’re okay with that?” To a tee.
“You do your own thing and live by your own rules.” Kind of.
“People don’t really seem to trust you.” Not so sure. It seems like most of my congregation members do, but do I really know what is going on deep within the recesses of their brains?
Jokes aside, and I know this is a pithy quiz, but I am Judas.
How could I say such a thing? Why not a Peter: a leader in the church? Why not a Matthew? Or a Bartholomew? Or a Thomas? Why say you ARE Judas?
I’d like to think of myself more highly. I really would. I’d like to think of myself as one of the others who wasn’t stealing from the community purse, or coming up with holy reasons for something (selling a bunch of perfume) when I am really self-motivated (so I can have the profit), or who didn’t betray the Lord for 30 pieces of silver. I’d like to think that I’m better than that. I’d like to think I would never, ever do such a thing.
But I betray Jesus each and every day.
Every time I sin in thought, word and deed, I crucify Christ once again. And the Lord knows I sin. The Lord knows I like looking after myself. The Lord knows I rebel against (not only those who want me to conform and toe any particular denominational party line) him in the deepest recesses of my heart. The Lord knows I oftentimes trust money over him. The Lord knows I want to come across as looking holy.
Yeah. I am Judas. Not proud of it, but I am.
And the question is: Is there any hope for one such as I? Is there hope for one scarred by sin, by selfishness, by rebellion?
I take great comfort in knowing that Jesus died for me while I was and still am a sinner. I take great comfort in knowing his grace is sufficient for even me. I take great comfort in the fact that he who began a good work in me is not through just yet.
I’ve got a long way to go. Maybe one day I’ll graduate up to Thaddeus or someone similar.
