Gentleman Outlaw

Hours before Jesus went to the cross, He sat at a table with His disciples. Bread was broken. Wine was shared. And Judas… ate too.

That line hits me every time I hear it.

Judas ate too.

But before we go any further, let’s talk about who Judas was.

Judas Iscariot was one of the twelve disciples—part of Jesus’ inner circle. He walked with Jesus. Ate with Him. Saw miracles firsthand. He was trusted enough to carry the group’s money. But despite all that, Judas chose to betray Jesus.

For thirty silver coins—the price of a slave—he sold Jesus out. He led soldiers to Jesus in the dark of night, identified Him with a kiss, and handed Him over to be arrested. That betrayal set the wheels in motion that would lead to Jesus’ torture and death on a Roman cross.

And Jesus knew it.
He knew what Judas was about to do.
And still… Judas ate too.

Jesus didn’t exclude him.
Jesus didn’t skip over him.
Jesus didn’t expose him in front of everyone.
No, Jesus fed Judas.
Jesus washed Judas’ feet.
Jesus loved Judas.

And I just can’t get over that.

What kind of love is this?

A love that kneels before betrayal.
A love that feeds the mouth that will speak poison.
A love that touches the feet that will walk away into darkness.
A love that forgives even before the knife goes in.

I try to imagine that moment. Jesus, fully aware of what Judas is about to do, still chooses love. No bitterness. No resistance. Just love.

And then it hits me.

I’m Judas too.

I’ve betrayed trust.
I’ve chosen selfishness.
I’ve turned my back, gone my own way, and let my pride win far too often.
And yet, Jesus still invites me to the table.
Still feeds me.
Still loves me.

That realization undoes me.

I think about the people in my life who are hard to love. The ones who’ve betrayed me. The ones who’ve lied, gossiped, hurt, or disappointed me. And I think: what if following Jesus means learning to love them too?

It’s easy to love Jesus.
It’s easy to love the grateful, the kind, the ones who love us back.
But Jesus calls us to more.

He calls us to love Judas.

To love when it’s undeserved.
To serve when it’s uncomfortable.
To forgive when it feels impossible.

That’s the heart of the Gospel.
Not just receiving grace, but extending it.
Not just worshiping Jesus, but walking like Him.

So today, when you sit at your own table—whether in your home, your job, your church, or your heart—look around.

Who’s your Judas?

Maybe it’s someone you’ve tried to forget.
Maybe it’s someone you’ve kept at arm’s length.
Maybe, like me, sometimes it’s you.

But here’s the good news:
Jesus still invites you to the table.
And He invites them too.

Let’s be the kind of people who don’t just love the lovable—but love like Jesus.

Even if it means setting a place for Judas.