Betrayal.
It’s one of the deepest wounds any of us can experience.
To be forsaken, renounced, gossiped about, or ghosted by someone you trusted, to have loyalty traded for severed connection—this is a pain that lingers, sometimes for a lifetime.
On Spy Wednesday, we remember the moment when the disciple Judas Iscariot made his tragic decision, agreeing to hand over Jesus for thirty pieces of silver.
What led Judas to this moment? What does his story and treatment of Jesus teach us about the difference between false devotion and genuine faith? And most importantly, how can we guard our own hearts against the temptation to follow Christ in a half-hearted, ulterior, and disingenuous way?
SPY WEDNESDAY TEACHING ON VIDEO
NOTE: Video content is unique. It is not a replica of, but a companion to, this essay.
The Kiss of Betrayal: A Story as Old as Time
In Matthew 26:14-16, we are told of how Judas approaches the chief priests and negotiates to betray Jesus for a price. Later, in verses 47-50, he follows through with his plan, greeting Jesus with an ironic kiss—a symbol of affection twisted into a weapon of manipulation, deception, and betrayal.
Betrayal often comes in familiar clothing. Sometimes, it’s not the obvious enemy who injures us but the close friend, the confidant, the one we trusted with our hearts, stories, struggles, weaknesses, and failures. Perhaps you’ve felt it—the sting of a friend who turned away when you needed them to walk alongside you, the colleague who assassinated your character, or the family member who chose personal ambition at work over connection at home.
The Psalmist understood this pain when he lamented, "If an enemy were insulting me, I could endure it; if a foe were rising against me, I could hide. But it is you, a man like myself, my companion, my close friend" (Psalm 55:12-13).Judas’s betrayal of wasn’t just a transaction—it was the ultimate heartbreak. He had walked with Jesus, shared meals with Him, witnessed His miracles. And yet, for thirty pieces of silver, he turned against the very One who loved him most.
Betrayal is one of the deepest wounds a human heart can endure. Think of a spouse who vows lifelong faithfulness, only to be found in the arms of another, shattering years of trust and commitment in a single act (or multiple acts) of infidelity. Consider the devoted caregiver who has sacrificed nights, weekends, and personal time for a suffering individual or family, only to be pushed away without mercy. Years of dedication and loyalty are discarded as if they never mattered. Or imagine discovering that a friend or colleague you’ve always supported has secretly been spreading a bad report against you. The pain cuts even deeper when it comes from someone you believed was your friend, but was actually "in it" with you until they decided you were no longer useful to them.
Betrayal leaves deep scars, shaking the very foundation of trust.
Judas’s betrayal of Jesus carried a similar, but cosmic sting. He had walked with Jesus, shared meals with Him, witnessed His miracles. And yet, for thirty pieces of silver—which was also the going rate to purchase a slave—he turned against the very One who loved him the most.False Devotion vs. Genuine Faith
Judas’s story invites us to reflect on our own motivations. Are we following Jesus out of genuine gratitude and devotion, or are we merely in His vicinity for what He can do for us? The difference between false devotion and real faith often comes down to what we do when following Jesus starts to cost us something.
Consider the contrast between Judas and Mary of Bethany. In John 12, just days before Judas’s betrayal, Mary anoints Jesus with expensive perfume, an act of extravagant love. Judas scoffs at her, arguing that the perfume should have been sold and the money given to the poor. But John reveals his true motive: Judas didn’t care about the poor—as the keeper of the moneybag who used to help himself to what was in it, he cared about the cash.
Judas saw Jesus as a means to an end, while Mary saw Him as the treasure itself. Her faith led her to surrender what was most precious to her. Judas’s false devotion led him to trade Jesus in for what he thought had greater value.
The same choice stands before us. Do we follow Jesus because we love Him, or because we hope He will help us achieve our personal agendas?
One of the greatest tests of faith is what we do when God’s plan differs from our expectations. Judas may have followed Jesus expecting power, revolution, or personal gain. When Jesus spoke of sacrifice instead of conquest, Judas became disillusioned. His unmet expectations turned into contempt, and contempt turned into betrayal.
False devotion is transactional—real faith is transformational.
Real faith does not get sidelined when tested by hardship or disappointment. Instead, it goes deeper. It remains steadfast, trusting that God’s wisdom is higher than our own.
Judas had every opportunity to repent, yet he fell into despair instead. His shame-laden grief led him to self-destruction, while Peter—who also betrayed Jesus not once, but three times—allowed his grief and guilt to drive him back to the Savior.
The difference between Judas and Peter was not failure, but how they responded to it.
Proverbs 28:13 reminds us of the power of true repentance: “Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy.” Peter turned to Jesus in his epic failure and found restoration, while Judas, overcome by self-loathing and a belief that he was too far gone to be received back into the fold, did not. Tragically, Judas canceled himself.
Guarding Against the Judas Spirit
Judas’s story is more than a cautionary tale about betrayal—it’s an invitation to search our own hearts. How do we guard against the slow drift toward false devotion? How do we ensure that our faith remains sincere and steadfast?
First, we must prioritize presence over proximity. Simply being near Jesus—whether through church attendance, reading books, settling for cultural Christianity, or religious activity—is not the same as actually knowing Him. Like Mary of Bethany, we must seek Jesus for who He is, not just for what He can do for us.
Second, we must examine our motivations. Do we serve God out of genuine love, or are we trying to manipulate Him to get something in return? When life takes an unexpected turn, do we grow resentful, or do we trust that His ways are higher than ours? The authenticity of our faith is tested in the moments when God’s plan doesn’t align with our own.
Finally, we must be quick to repent. Again, the key difference between Judas and Peter was not that one failed and the other didn’t—both betrayed Jesus in their own way. But Peter, despite his denial, turned back. He repented and received grace. Judas, in his despair, never sought reconciliation. Yet the grace of God is always reaching out to those who humble themselves and repent before Him.
Cosmic betrayal often begins with small compromises—a divided heart, a hidden sin, an unread Bible gathering dust, a neglected fellowship with Christ and His people. Left unchecked, these things can lead us down a path we never intended to walk. But the good news is that no failure has to be final. The grace of Jesus is greater than even our deepest betrayals, and His redemption is never out of reach.
A Call to True Surrender
Judas’s thirty pieces of silver quickly lost their value. Flattened with guilt, he threw the money back at the priests and ultimately took his own life. His tragic end reminds us that whatever we trade Jesus for will never satisfy, and will always contribute to our ruin.
But the beauty of the gospel is that even betrayal does not have the final word. Jesus, the One who was betrayed, took on the penalty of sin so that even the worst failures could be redeemed.
Peter’s story is proof of this. Though he denied Jesus three times, he was restored, forgiven, and called back up to lead. His worst moments and seasons did not define him—God’s grace and restoration did.
And that same grace and restoration are available to us today.
As we reflect on Spy Wednesday, let us ask ourselves: Where is my heart? Am I seeking surrender to Christ, or am I holding back? May we be people who, like Mary, pour out all we have at the feet of Jesus—not out of duty or drudgery, but out of love for the One who first loved us.