Judas: When We Cannot Forgive Ourselves
- 88gato88
- Mar 30
- 3 min read
by Lori Wilson
A Lenten Reflection
The Misunderstood Disciple
Judas is one of the most misunderstood and disregarded people in the Holy Week story. We don't know much about him—his growing up, his family life, what drew him to follow Jesus in the first place. As Jason Royle explores in his book Judas: Hero Misunderstood, there may be layers to Judas's story that we've missed, dimensions of his character that deserve our compassion rather than our quick judgment.
What we do know is this: Judas thought he knew what was supposed to happen. He strongly believed that Jesus was going to create a nation that would allow for freedom and justice.
Living in Occupied Territory
At the time of Jesus, they lived in an occupied country under Roman rule. It had to have been a scary, uncertain place. From scripture, we know it was filled with violence and intolerance.
"From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force." (Matthew 11:12)
Into this fearful landscape, Jesus enters the scene and calls all of us to a way of love and inclusion rather than violence.
"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." (Matthew 5:43-44)

When Our Expectations Don't Match God's Ways
Judas thought Jesus needed a push to get him started on this new way of living, this new kingdom. Judas thought Jesus was somehow, some way going to be an earthly king—that with the right circumstances, Jesus would finally claim his power and overthrow the oppressors.
"Then the Devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, 'If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down...'" (Matthew 4:5-6)
Even the tempter in the wilderness wanted Jesus to prove his power in earthly terms. Judas wasn't alone in his misunderstanding.
And that did not turn out the way Judas had envisioned. His betrayal pushed things in a way Judas was unprepared for.
"When Judas, his betrayer, saw that Jesus was condemned, he repented and brought back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and the elders. He said, 'I have sinned by betraying innocent blood.'" (Matthew 27:3-4)
The Tragedy of Unforgivable Sins
The big question haunts us: Why did Judas commit suicide? How did he get to a place where he felt so hopeless?
Did he not believe he could be forgiven for such a betrayal?
I know Jesus forgives us whenever we turn to him with sorrow. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness." (1 John 1:9)
But I also know that many times we can't forgive ourselves for the things we believe are unforgivable.
That's the sad part. That's what leaves me feeling empty.
An Invitation to Hope
Jesus invites us to a way of life that is loving and forgiving and present.
"I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another." (John 13:34)
I hope I am always in a place of hope, knowing I am forgiven for my betrayals, my ways of missing the mark and not loving the way I am invited to love. I hope that I can always forgive myself.
"As far as the east is from the west, so far he removes our transgressions from us." (Psalm 103:12)
Reflection Questions for Your Lenten Journey
Where have you held expectations about how God "should" work in your life or in the world? How have those expectations been challenged?
When have you felt like you lived in "occupied territory"—a place of fear, uncertainty, or violence? How did you experience God's presence there?
What does it mean to you that Jesus chose the way of love and inclusion over the way of violence and force?
Is there something you have done that you believe is unforgivable? What would it mean to accept that God has already forgiven you?
Judas couldn't forgive himself. What keeps you from forgiving yourself? What would freedom from that feel like?
How can you extend to yourself the same compassion and forgiveness that Jesus offers?
What does it mean to "miss the mark" in loving? How can acknowledging this gently, without condemnation, become part of your spiritual practice?
A Closing Prayer
Merciful God, help me to see myself as you see me—beloved, forgiven, worthy of compassion. When I cannot forgive myself, remind me that your love is greater than my shame. Give me the courage to accept your forgiveness and to walk in the freedom of your grace. Amen.




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