Judas, The Man Who Never Knew

 I’ve caught myself wondering sometimes—what kind of guy was Judas, really?

What did he look like? How did he laugh? Did he have that one inside joke with Peter? Was he the kind to sit close or hang on the edges?

I guess I’ve always had this mental image—this movie villain version. Thin. Shifty eyes. That classic pointy beard. The kind of dude who'd slink in shadows and mutter half-truths. I imagined him as the odd one out in the group. The one no one really knew.

Friendless. Cold. Maybe broken from way back. A rebel kid with no real place to land.

But lately, I’m not so sure.

There’s nothing in the text—nothing but silence—that says Judas was ever on the outside. At that Last Supper, when Jesus dropped the bomb that someone in the room would betray him, no one pointed fingers at Judas. No raised eyebrows. No gasps. No whispers of, “Knew it.”

Maybe we’ve had him all wrong.

Maybe Judas was warm, charismatic even. The kind of guy you’d want in your corner. Loud laugh. Big presence. Loyal—until he wasn’t. I don’t know. None of us do.

But here’s what is clear: Judas didn’t know Jesus. Not really.

He saw Him. He walked beside Him. Ate with Him. Heard His parables, watched the miracles, nodded along with the teachings. But he didn’t see who He was.

Judas had the religion—but not the relationship. He knew the form, but missed the heart.

And when the enemy made his move in that upper room, he didn’t need a monster. He needed someone familiar. Someone close. Someone who wore the robes, said the right things, walked the walk—but whose heart was never truly transformed. Judas fit that bill.

It wasn’t Rome that betrayed Christ. It wasn’t the crowd. It wasn’t even the Pharisees.

It was someone inside.

That’s the sobering part. The real danger to the Church isn’t flashing on a billboard or shouting from a Capitol Hill podium. It’s the quiet decay that happens within. From those who know the language but not the love. Who carry the label but not the life.

So yeah—Judas wore the cloak of religion. But he never knew the heartbeat of Christ.

And if there’s anything we can learn from his story, it’s this: Let’s not settle for surface. Let’s not play dress-up in faith.

Let’s know Him. Deeply. Authentically. Personally.