A Word of Warning to Judas Iscariot

Ray Comfort shares timeless and chilling truth in this hypothetical letter to Judas Iscariot, written from the point of view of a concerned former tutor.

To Judas, son of Simon Iscariot,

Greetings.

You may not remember me, but I certainly remember you as a young boy. I was your second tutor—instructing you in godliness when you were just four years old. During that time, I grew close both to you and to your dear father, Simon.

Like you, I am in Bethany with plans to go to Jerusalem for the Passover. I was part of the crowd who gathered earlier today who wanted to catch a glimpse of Jesus and see the man He raised from the dead. However, I had another motive—as I had already seen both.

I wanted to get this letter into your hands—a letter that was written because I have had a deep concern for your welfare for some time. Allow me to explain.

During the year I tutored you, I noticed a deficiency in your character. It is normal for children to occasionally want what others have, but with you, it was inordinate. As your tutor, I did not have authority to discipline you, and to my consternation, your father refused to raise his hand in correction. One day I confronted him, and during our conversation I quoted the wisdom of Solomon:

He who spares his rod hates his son,
But he who loves him disciplines him promptly. [Proverbs 13:24]

I am sorry to say that I was dismissed that day. I was heartbroken—not just because I lost my beloved job but because I lost you. I have since been troubled about how you would turn out.

It is because you have become so well known as a disciple of Jesus that I felt compelled to seek you out and ask if you still prayed the prayer we said together every day:

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me, and know my anxieties;
And see if there is any wicked way in me,
And lead me in the way everlasting. [Psalm 139:23-24]

Jesus has become unprecedentedly famous in Israel, and if you fell because of some sort of indiscretion, it would bring reproach to His name and ministry. I have this concern for Him because I was there when He raised Lazarus from the grave. Seeing a four-days-dead man suddenly walk out of a tomb sent shivers down my spine. I dropped to my knees and whispered, “This is the Promised One.” And it is because I am a changed man, a believer in Jesus, that I want the best for you and for Him. That is why I stayed for the celebration—solely to get this letter to you.

While I was trying to find you, I noticed that the Pharisees were not celebrating. Instead, they were gathered in a corner like hungry vultures, whispering one to another. I know that we are not to speak evil of the leaders of our people, but I am sure that they were up to something devious. It was while I was watching them that someone noticed my gaze, came beside me, and said, “They’re up to something.” He then introduced himself as one of the disciples of Jesus, James by name. When I asked if he knew you, he smiled and said something that relieved my fears. He told me how earlier that day, when a woman had broken a box of very expensive ointment and anointed the feet of Jesus, you showed that you had changed. You were concerned about how the ointment should have been sold and the money given to the poor. He also told me how you were so respected by the disciples that you had been entrusted with the finances of the ministry. Knowing how you have changed has made me sure you would not be offended by the candidness expressed in this letter. This is because you know that I am your friend—and faithful are the wounds of a friend. You may remember another verse you memorized:

Faithful are the wounds of a friend,
But the kisses of an enemy are deceitful. [Proverbs 27:6]

I was also going to remind you of one other scripture you memorized as a child:

Keep your heart with all diligence,
For out of it spring the issues of life. [Proverbs 4:23]

But you are clearly doing that. So, what started out as a word of warning from an old man has turned into a sincere letter of apology.

That brings me to the main reason I am now writing. It is in respect to one verse that has been on my mind from the moment I became a believer. I could not get to your master because of the crowds, so I bring this to you—His trusted disciple:

Even my own familiar friend in whom I trusted,
Who ate my bread,
Has lifted up his heel against me. [Psalm 41:9]

I was always convinced that David was speaking of his own experience, but now that I am a believer, I think it is prophetic. The Messiah is saying that one of His friends—one so close they had meals together—will lift up his heel against Him. As most of us know, “lifting up the heel” is a reference to an unruly horse kicking the master who trusts and feeds him. It seems from this verse that one of your fellow disciples will tragically turn against Jesus. Someone very close to Him. Someone who is trusted. Watch for this person, Judas, because the enemy is very subtle. If you let him get his foot in the door, he will take possession of the house.

These things have been weighing heavily on me lately, but I feel better now that I have shared them with you, my friend. Perhaps you could pass on my concerns to Jesus—although I suspect that He already knows.

Thank you for your time, dear brother.

Faithfully yours,

Aristarchus, son of Epaphras