Introduction: The Impostor at the Table : Do you know Jesus or just know of Him?
I want to take you back—not to a pulpit or a church pew—but to a table.
Not just any table… but the most sacred table in history.
The table where love and betrayal met face to face.
The Last Supper.
But before they ever broke bread, before Jesus ever lifted the cup, something remarkable happened that we must not miss.
The King of Glory—the One who spoke the universe into existence—got up from the table, wrapped a towel around His waist, knelt down on the floor… and began to wash His disciples’ feet.
Think about that for a moment.
The hands that had touched lepers… now cupped dirty, calloused heels.
The hands that had lifted the dead back to life… now wiped grime from between toes.
The One who created rivers and oceans… now poured water into a basin to serve.
And one by one, He knelt before each man—men who would soon doubt Him, deny Him, and desert Him—and He washed their feet.
Then He got to Peter.
Peter recoiled. “No way, Lord. You’ll never wash my feet.”
Jesus looked up and said,
“Unless I wash you, you have no part with Me.” (John 13:8)
Suddenly Peter’s resistance turned into desperation:
“Then not just my feet, Lord—but my hands and my head as well!”
That’s what true surrender sounds like.
Peter didn’t just want to walk with Jesus. He wanted to be fully immersed in Him.
But then came the moment that stops me in my tracks…
Jesus knelt in front of Judas.
He knelt before the one who had already sold Him out in his heart.
The one who had already made the deal.
The one who would walk out of that room and betray the Son of God with a kiss.
And Jesus… washed… his… feet.
The Messiah knelt before His traitor.
Can you imagine that?
Can you picture Jesus looking up at Judas with love in His eyes…
…knowing full well that those feet He was cleaning would carry Judas down a dark road to deliver Him to His death?
He washed them anyway.
Because that’s what love does.
That’s who Jesus is.
And after the basin was emptied, and the towel set aside, and the meal began…
Jesus broke the silence with a thunderclap of truth.
“Truly I tell you… one of you will betray Me.” (Matthew 26:21)
A wave of horror swept through the room.
The disciples looked around, stunned, grieved, disoriented.
One by one they asked, “Surely not I, Lord?”
But then Judas…
Judas said something different.
“Surely not I, Rabbi?”
Rabbi.
Not Lord… but Rabbi.
Not Master. Not Savior. Not Son of God. Just… teacher.
In that one word, Judas revealed the condition of his heart.
He had seen every miracle, walked beside the Messiah, watched heaven touch earth again and again…
But he never surrendered.
He never made Jesus Lord.
So I ask you tonight—and I don’t ask this casually, I ask this from the depths of my soul:
Do you know Jesus? Or do you just know of Him?
Because you can sit at the table…
You can lift your hands in worship…
You can serve in ministry, quote Scripture, pray in public…
…and still walk away with clean feet and a dirty heart.
You can have proximity without intimacy.
You can be part of the crowd without being part of the Kingdom.
You can kiss the face of the Savior—and still be lost.
Let me tell you something sobering.
Years ago, a man impersonated a doctor in a hospital. He wore the white coat. He walked the halls. He even gave medical advice. He looked the part. Sounded the part. People trusted him. But he never had a license. Never had the authority. Never did the work.
He was just playing a part… until lives were put in danger.
You can do the same thing with faith.
You can dress the part. Talk the talk. Look spiritual. Fool people.
But you can’t fool Jesus.
“Many will say to Me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord…’ And I will say to them, ‘I never knew you.’” (Matthew 7:22–23)
This morning, Jesus is not looking for fans.
He’s not interested in Facebook followers.
He’s not collecting casual admirers.
He’s calling for surrender.
He’s calling for disciples.
Not just people who know His name…
But people who know His voice.
So I ask you again—don’t answer with your lips, answer with your life:
Do you know Jesus… or do you just know of Him?
Let’s find out.
Point 1: Judas Saw Every Miracle… But Still Didn’t Believe
Church, listen to me—Judas was there for all of it.
He wasn’t on the outside looking in.
He didn’t hear the miracles secondhand.
He walked beside the Miracle Worker Himself—Jesus.
He saw blind eyes pop open.
He watched with his own eyes as lame legs stretched and walked.
He saw withered hands restored.
He watched Jesus touch lepers that no one else would go near.
He stood in awe as Lazarus, dead for four days, came stumbling out of a tomb—still wrapped in grave clothes.
Judas was there when storms were calmed with a word.
He was there when demons screamed and fled from the authority in Jesus’ voice.
He was there when Jesus fed multitudes with a few loaves and fish—and he held one of the overflowing baskets of leftovers.
He didn’t just hear about miracles—he handled them with his own hands.
And yet… he still didn’t believe.
He never let the miracles move him.
He never let the presence of Jesus penetrate his heart.
He loved what Jesus could do, but not who Jesus was.
One of the clearest pictures of Judas’ heart came in John 12, when a woman came in with an expensive jar of perfume—worth a year’s wages. She broke it open and anointed Jesus’ feet. She wept. She worshiped. She gave all she had.
And what did Judas say?
“Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor?” (John 12:5)
He didn’t see the transformation in that woman.
He didn’t hear the worship in her cry.
He didn’t recognize the blessing Jesus received.
All he saw… was the cost.
Let me tell you something: Judas had the best Teacher, the best Preacher, the best Prophet, and the best example—yet his heart still never changed.
Why?
Because you can walk with Jesus and still not worship Him.
You can see the miracles and still miss the Messiah.
But let me stop and say something right now—Jesus is still doing miracles today!
I know it because I’m one of them.
When I was two years old, I died in my father’s arms after a seizure. My dad performed CPR. I was rushed by ambulance to Children’s Hospital.
By the time my mom—who was Catholic—arrived at the hospital, they told her, “We’re calling for a priest to give your son his last rites. He’s not going to make it.”
But a little old redheaded woman—my grandma—who didn’t just know of Jesus, but truly knew Him, got down on her knees and cried out:
“Lord, save my grandson, and I’ll teach him everything about your Son Jesus.”
She kept that promise.
And here I stand… a living, breathing, walking miracle.
But that’s just the beginning.
Taylor, Caleb, Chris Alan—stand up.
Church, look at them. Those are three more miracles standing right before your eyes.
I was told to abort every one of them.
The doctors said it was too dangerous.
They said the pregnancies wouldn’t survive.
They said it could be fatal—for them and for their mom. .
But they didn’t have the final word—God did.
When we were pregnant with Taylor, we were told at six weeks, “You’ve lost your baby. There’s no heartbeat. There’s no blood flow.”
But I said, “No—I don’t believe that. That’s not what God told me.”
The doctor said, “I’ve been a doctor for 20 years. I know what I’m talking about.”
I said, “That’s fine. But God is the Great Physician. He has the final say.”
She told me insurance wouldn’t cover another ultrasound and that there was no chance.
I said, “Do it anyway.”
The next week, we came back… and there it was.
A heartbeat. Blood flow. Life.
Taylor was born at 30 weeks, 3 lbs. 14 oz.—and today, she is thriving.
A walking miracle.
Then came Caleb.
The most difficult pregnancy of the three.
My wife’s water broke at just 20 weeks.
The doctor—an atheist—came to me and said,
“You have great faith. You need to start praying. If we can’t keep this baby in the womb until 24 weeks, he won’t live.”
So I got to praying.
I called every believer I knew.
They called every believer they knew.
And before long, we had an army of saints on their knees, crying out to heaven for a miracle.
And the very next day—her water sealed back up.
Caleb was born at 28 weeks, 2 lbs. 14 oz.—and he’s alive and well today!
So when I tell you Jesus still does miracles—I’m not giving you some pretty Sunday school story.
I’m not quoting headlines from Christian news.
I’m telling you my life. My testimony.
But here’s the truth…
Unless you’ve encountered Jesus for yourself, these stories will sound the same way they sounded to Judas—just a neat story. Just another “wow” moment.
But when you truly know Him…
When Jesus isn’t just a name, but your Savior, your Lord, your Healer, your Provider…
Then you know that He’s not done.
And you know He’s still in the business of resurrecting what doctors call dead…
Restoring what the world gave up on…
Rebuilding what life tried to destroy.
But here’s the tragedy…
Judas saw all of it.
And he still betrayed Him.
He called Him—but he never crowned Him Lord.
He was around Jesus… but never gave his heart to Jesus.
He was close… but never committed.
He watched the miracles… but never worshiped the Messiah.
Let me ask you, church:
What more do you need to see?
How many more miracles will it take before Jesus becomes more than just “Rabbi” to you?
Because you can’t just admire Him…
You have to surrender to Him.
Point 2: Judas Played the Part — But He Wasn’t Changed
Let’s talk about something heavy—something that hits close to home for many sitting in churches every single Sunday:
Judas played the part… but he was never truly changed.
He blended in.
He walked with Jesus.
He sat in leadership.
He held the moneybag—the treasury of the ministry.
He was trusted by the other disciples.
If you were an outsider looking in, you would’ve thought Judas had it all together.
But let me tell you something: Proximity to Jesus does not equal transformation by Jesus.
Judas Had the Position, Not the Posture
Judas was in the right place—but he didn’t have the right heart.
He walked close to the Word…
But the Word never took root in him.
He followed the crowd of believers…
But never allowed belief to become surrender.
He spoke the language of the saved…
But he lived with the heart of the lost.
2 Timothy 3:5 says:
“Having a form of godliness but denying its power.”
That was Judas.
That could be any one of us… if we’re not careful.
He Knew the Routine, But Never Knew the Redeemer
He knew how to look the part.
He knew when to nod during the teaching.
He knew how to lift his hands when others were watching.
He knew how to speak the right words, wear the right robe, carry the right look.
But when push came to shove, Judas never truly surrendered.
He had a title, but not a testimony.
He had religion, but not relationship.
He was near Jesus—but far from grace.
And here’s the chilling part:
Jesus knew the whole time.
He knew Judas would betray Him.
He knew Judas’s heart wasn’t right.
He knew Judas was stealing from the moneybag.
He knew… and still washed his feet.
He knew… and still fed him at the table.
Let that sink in.
You Can Fool the Church — But You Can’t Fool Jesus
Judas is the perfect example of someone who looked saved, sounded saved, acted saved… but was never surrendered.
He kissed the face of the Savior in the Garden of Gethsemane and still went to hell.
Why?
Because playing the part isn’t enough.
Because pretending doesn’t produce salvation.
Because imitation isn’t transformation.
Church, we have too many performers in pulpits and pews,
Too many actors on the stage of religion,
Too many costumes and not enough conversion.
You can fool your family.
You can fool your pastor.
You can fool your friends.
But you cannot fool Jesus.
He doesn’t look at what’s in your hands—He looks at what’s in your heart.
A Heart Check
So let me ask you:
Have you been playing the part?
Have you gone through the motions without real devotion?
Have you been so good at pretending that you’ve even convinced yourself?
Judas heard the parables. He walked the roads. He watched the sea obey.
But nothing ever changed inside of him. Why?
Because he never let Jesus change his heart.
Church, if Jesus isn’t changing you, then you’re not really following Him.
You might be shadowing Him… mimicking Him… admiring Him…
…but following Jesus means becoming like Him.
Ezekiel 36:26 (NIV) – “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”
That’s not religion. That’s not surface. That’s transformation.
Personal Reflection
Some of us have become experts at looking holy.
We’ve learned how to clap during the songs and nod during the sermons.
We’ve learned how to quote just enough Scripture to sound spiritual.
But when the music stops… when no one’s around…
We’re empty inside.
We’re exhausted from performing.
We’re dry from pretending.
We’re distant from God… and we know it.
You don’t need a better act.
You don’t need a bigger mask.
You need Jesus to change you from the inside out.
This morning, Jesus isn’t asking, “How well do you perform?”
He’s asking:
“Do you really know Me?”
“Have you let Me change you?”
Because if Judas could spend three years beside the Savior and still be lost…
Then it’s possible for someone to spend 30 years in church… and never be born again.
So stop playing the part. Start pursuing the Person.
Jesus doesn’t want your performance.
He wants your heart.
Point 3: You Can’t Fake It Forever — The Fruit Will Show
You can wear a mask.
You can play the part.
You can sit at the table and pretend like everything’s okay…
But eventually, the fruit of your life will reveal the root of your heart.
Judas could hide it for a while.
He could cover it up with a smile, with his words, with his position.
But in the end—when it mattered most—the truth surfaced.
Matthew 26:48–49 (NIV)
“Now the betrayer had arranged a signal with them: ‘The one I kiss is the man; arrest him.’ Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, ‘Greetings, Rabbi!’ and kissed him.”
A kiss.
An act of affection used for betrayal.
Judas didn’t just hand Jesus over.
He kissed the door of heaven—and still went to hell.
The Betrayal Mask Always Slips
The other disciples didn’t even suspect Judas.
He was so good at hiding, so good at faking, that no one saw it coming.
But Jesus knew.
And eventually, Judas’ true heart came out—not in a shout, not in a confession—but in a kiss soaked with lies.
Let me ask you:
What does your fruit say about your faith?
Luke 6:45 (NIV) – “A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart… for the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.”
You can fake it in public, but you can’t fake fruit.
If Jesus isn’t truly Lord of your life, it will show.
It might take time…
It might be subtle at first…
But eventually, betrayal always rises to the surface.
: The Funeral with No Name
Let me tell you a story.
A few years ago, a pastor was asked to officiate a funeral for a man who had no family, no church, and no friends who wanted to speak.
No obituary.
No one claimed the body for days.
Eventually, a stranger paid for a simple burial.
The man had lived most of his life attending church.
He was baptized at 9.
Taught Sunday school in his 20s.
Served on the board in his 30s.
But over time, something changed.
He got comfortable with the motions.
He stopped praying.
Stopped repenting.
Started performing.
He knew about God… but he stopped walking with God.
And when he died, no one had anything real to say about his faith.
No one could speak of his love for Jesus.
No testimonies. No stories of transformation. Just… silence.
They buried a man who played the part,
Who was in the pews… but never let Jesus be in his heart.
The pastor said the most chilling part wasn’t the silence in the room—it was the silence from heaven over his life.
Because the scariest sound in eternity will be the silence when Jesus says, “I never knew you.”
Matthew 7:23 (NIV) – “Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’”
This Is Heartbreaking — But It Doesn’t Have to Be Your Story
Judas’ end was tragic—not just because he betrayed Jesus,
but because he refused to run back to Him.
Peter failed too. Peter denied Jesus three times.
But Peter wept bitterly. Peter returned. Peter was restored.
Judas never came back.
He let the guilt eat him alive.
He let the performance destroy him.
He let the mask become his identity.
And in the end, Judas hung himself in shame—just feet away from where Jesus would soon be hung in love.
Don’t let that be your story.
Don’t let the weight of pretending take you further than you ever meant to go.
Don’t let silence and shame be your end.
Here’s the Good News
You don’t have to fake it anymore.
You don’t have to carry the weight of pretending.
You don’t have to be Judas.
You can be Peter.
You can fall down in brokenness.
You can cry out to Jesus.
You can run back to grace.
You can drop the mask and fall into mercy.
Because the Jesus Judas betrayed…
Is the same Jesus who welcomed the prodigal.
Who healed the broken.
Who forgave the criminal on the cross next to Him.
He’s still forgiving today.
He’s still healing today.
He’s still saving today.
So let me ask you:
Are you wearing a mask?
Are you faking fruit?
Because sooner or later… your fruit will tell your story.
And the question is:
Will it be the story of Judas? Or the story of Peter?
Point 4: It’s Not Too Late to Make Him Lord
If there’s one thing I need you to hear today—one thing that could change your life forever—it’s this:
It’s not too late.
As long as there’s breath in your lungs, as long as your heart is beating, it is not too late to make Jesus the Lord of your life.
Judas Could’ve Turned Back… But He Didn’t
After Judas betrayed Jesus, he felt the weight of what he had done.
He returned the thirty pieces of silver.
He admitted, “I have betrayed innocent blood.”
But instead of running back to Jesus… he ran to the grave.
He hung himself in a field—just miles from where Jesus would hang for his salvation.
The tragedy of Judas isn’t just that he betrayed Jesus…
It’s that he never believed Jesus could forgive him.
He thought his failure was final.
Church, hear me: Your failure is not final.
Peter Failed Too… But He Came Back
Let’s not forget about Peter.
Peter denied Jesus three times—publicly, loudly, and in Jesus’ worst moment.
He cursed. He ran. He failed miserably.
But Peter did something Judas didn’t do:
He came back.
He wept bitterly.
He returned to the upper room.
He waited… and when Jesus rose from the dead, He went looking for Peter.
And Jesus didn’t say, “I told you so.”
He didn’t say, “You blew it.”
He said:
“Peter, do you love Me? … Then feed My sheep.”
Jesus restored him, called him, empowered him.
Peter went from a broken denier to a bold preacher at Pentecost—leading 3,000 souls to salvation in a single day.
That’s what Jesus does.
He doesn’t just forgive failure—He redeems it.
From Playing the Part… to Receiving His Presence
Some of you have been Judas in the story.
You’ve played the part.
You’ve been around the table.
You’ve even walked with Jesus in your own way…
But you’ve never made Him Lord.
You’ve clapped during worship but never surrendered in private.
You’ve talked about miracles but never let Jesus work one in your heart.
You’ve been near the cross, but never been changed by it.
And today, Jesus is saying to you:
“Come home. Come close. It’s not too late.”
Romans 10:13 – “For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
Not everyone who attends church.
Not everyone who plays the part.
Not everyone who keeps up appearances.
Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord.
- The Decision is Yours
You don’t have to leave this place like Judas—full of guilt, shame, and regret.
You can leave like Peter—forgiven, restored, and set on fire for the Kingdom.
But it requires a choice.
A surrender.
A heart that says, “Jesus, You’re not just a teacher. You’re not just a good man. You’re not just a Sunday name… You’re my Savior. My Lord. My everything.”
And when you make that decision—your whole story changes.
Closing: “Judas Knew of Him… But Still Betrayed Him”
So let’s bring this home.
Judas walked with Jesus.
He saw every miracle.
He heard every parable.
He sat at the table.
He dipped bread in the same bowl.
He looked into the eyes of the Savior.
And yet… he still betrayed Him.
Not because Jesus failed…
Not because He wasn’t convincing enough…
But because Judas knew of Jesus—he never truly knew Him.
And church, that’s the line that still divides people today.
It’s not whether you go to church.
It’s not whether you’ve heard the sermons.
It’s not whether you’ve read the stories or worn the T-shirts or said the prayers.
CLOSING; WORSHIP TEAM;
The question is: Have you made Him Lord?
Because look at what Jesus did for us—even in the face of betrayal.
They stripped Him of His clothes.
Then they took long leather whips—embedded with steel and lead pellets—
and tore across His back until His flesh hung in ribbons and His knees buckled beneath Him.
Then they twisted together a crown of thorns… and crushed it onto His brow.
Blood poured down His face.
They laughed at Him.
They spit in His face.
They mocked the One who had never sinned.
They beat the Prince of Peace like a common criminal.
And yet, with one snap of His fingers, seventy-two thousand angels—swords drawn—stood ready to obliterate the earth to rescue their King…
But Jesus… whispered:
“No… to this end was I born.”
He wasn’t just a revolutionary.
He wasn’t just a good man.
He wasn’t just a wise teacher.
He was God in the flesh.
And oh, how He taught…
He taught us to turn the other cheek.
He taught us to forgive—seventy times seven.
He taught us that what matters most isn’t what’s seen… but what’s in the heart.
And then He picked up that cross.
He dragged it. He lifted it. He carried it.
And not once did He fight it.
Not once did He curse the world that betrayed Him.
And when they nailed Him to it…
He said, “Father, forgive them… they don’t know what they’re doing.”
And then, as the sky went dark…
As the earth shook…
As thunder rolled and lightning split the heavens…
The Roman soldiers—men who had crucified hundreds—looked up and said:
“Surely… this was the Son of God.”
Because no one… ever died like Jesus.
And with His last breath, He cried:
“It is finished.”
He meant your debt was paid.
He meant your guilt was canceled.
He meant His blood was enough.
He meant grace is now yours… if you want it.
So let me ask you one last time:
Do you know Him?
Or do you just know of Him?
Because Judas knew the Scriptures.
He knew the miracles.
He even knew how to talk the talk.
But when it mattered most… he said,
“Surely not I, Rabbi?”
Not Lord… just teacher.
Don’t walk away from this moment like Judas.
Don’t leave with clean feet and a dirty heart.
Don’t let this sermon be just another story.
Let this be the moment when you stop knowing of Him… and start truly knowing Him.
The altar is open.
Come—if you’ve been pretending.
Come—if you’ve drifted.
Come—if you’ve never truly surrendered.
Come—if your heart is broken.
Come—if you’re desperate for more than religion.
Because Jesus didn’t die so you could know of Him.
He died so you could be with Him—forever.
This is your moment.
Come to Jesus. Make Him Lord.
Not just teacher.
Not just an idea.
Not just your Sunday habit.
Make Him your Savior. Make Him your King. Make Him your everything.
