Dear Mr. Iscariot,

I’d been thinking about you. You and your relationship with the Savior. How you’d probably laughed alongside him, went in for those manly-type hugs near those wild campfires, and allowed the King of the Jews to massage the tension out of your toes before your scummy heart whispered to the religious ones how to kill him. Information worth gold. Worthy of golden coins and a suicide smile. Well, worth it to you anyhow.

You see Judas, I’d become caught up with your biography, because I’d become confused of why you’d even be allowed to stay there with Jesus. How was it your little weasel soul scurried its’ way into the gang of disciples, and by the side of The One you seemed to deeply love; though you’d be the first to throw a punch in his gut- before the crowds had begun their taunting you came to him as a friend, kissed His cheek while He bit His tongue. Like a punch to the gut you embraced Him. How did He allow you to stay? I know, I know, He chose you because you’d fulfill the prophesy…

Let’s be honest here, I’d have kicked you right out. I suppose this is why He is God, and I most certainly am not. Through darkness, a light would forever be known.

And I’d wondered about all the ways you’d learned from Him. Sat at His feet, and listened to true love stories and life everlasting. Slept like an enemy beside The King right underneath those stars he put up for you. Did you lie there under those blankets of stars and sky quieted and still? Volunteering to feed fish to the gatherers, give up your entire life to follow Him. I don’t remember you ever proclaiming Him King, but it seemed no one else was interested in that fact either. Not one of the disciples asked where you really stood in scriptures. Listening to the stories, hearing His heart. And the other disciples aren’t the only ones who didn’t think twice about the other leaders around them. I think I get caught up asking questions more like “Surely not I, Lord”… which I suppose is good to consider my own state, but sad I don’t really invest in knowing other people’s hearts, like yours.

I know how capable I am of letting in lies and then living reality by everything that is false. I have troubles each day with the fight for good, against all things evil, which is probably the very reason why I question myself rather than know myself confidently. I am, after all human. Though I rarely give it thought, like you, I can find myself even in the House of God, hearing His words, and yet be so far away. Is it only me who has considered you like this?

I don’t know how long you’d planted and watered that evil in your life, but like a Ficus it took over your life and hollowed the insides of your frame. It terrifies me that I am just as human as you had been too. And you’d sat right there beside the most loving, forgiving man and didn’t confess a single word of the hate growing quick in your heart. I don’t know how long that evil sat and stewed there, but it makes me terribly sad that your name is known throughout the world for the evil you did.

One evil choice stood boldly against a lifetime of following Him.

You were part of the very ministry of Jesus Christ! And you were never mentioned for miracles, healing, helping, growing good, even though its’ more likely than not you had done all of the above. Over and over though you stood tall beside the Savior, no one will recognize you for good. As though you preformed many miracles in His name, saying Lord, Lord…

Lastly sir, it makes me consider just how Great my God is never to tremble around you. He wasn’t afraid of the devil you let inside you. He didn’t even have time to be annoyed by its’ presence. In fact, He allowed God’s Will to work through His life without cause for fear, shame, or taking things into His own hands. He knew His enemy wasn’t flesh nor the blood to be shed.

It’s sobering to remember your sorrow, and lack of repentance. That you were sorrowful for your actions, did what was right by giving back the filthy coins, and did not fall to your knees before Christ. All I want to do is beg Father please, please forgive me! How often do I fall towards works and doing the right things when you say I just need to come to your, repent and believe.

Sometimes I think He probably mourned for you and desperately desired your heart to turn around. Not for His sake or glory but for your redemption. It makes me consider those in the church even this very day. The ones who proclaim His name and stand tall as though they were best buds with Him. The ones He so desperately wants to turn their hearts around for the sake of their very own redemption, rather than follow His footsteps, proclaiming His name only to hear Him say “I don’t know you”.

Sobered,
Dee