Encouragement for Your Week: Mar. 29-Apr. 4
This Week’s Verse
They were very sorrowful and began to say to Him one after another, “Lord, is it I?”
— Matthew 26:22
Devotion
Imagine sitting at a dinner table with your closest friends—people you’ve traveled with and sacrificed for over the last three years. The atmosphere is heavy. Suddenly, Jesus drops a bombshell: "One of you will betray me."
The room doesn't erupt in accusations. Instead, it sinks into a deep, painful self-reflection. Eleven of the disciples ask the same haunting question: "Lord, is it I?"
But if you look closely at the text, Judas asks something slightly different. He doesn't say "Lord." He asks, "Rabbi, is it I?"
At first, that might seem like a small detail. "Rabbi" means teacher, which was a title of great respect. Jesus was a teacher. But in this moment, that one word exposed the distance between Judas and the rest of the group.
The Eleven saw Jesus as Lord—the owner, the authority, and the Master of their lives.
Judas saw Jesus only as a Rabbi—someone to learn from, but not someone he had to obey.
I have to ask myself: Which one am I? It is surprisingly easy to treat Jesus like a life coach or a philosopher. We read His "lessons" on how to be a better person, how to manage our stress, or how to be kind to our neighbors. But seeing Jesus only as a teacher keeps us in the driver’s seat. We pick and choose which lessons we want to follow, like students auditing a class.
When Jesus is just a teacher, Christianity becomes a performance. We try to "learn" how to be holy through sheer willpower. We measure our worth by how well we keep the rules.
That road is exhausting. Judas walked it. He attended the meetings, heard the sermons, and did the work, but his heart never actually yielded. When Jesus didn't meet his personal expectations, Judas walked away because he was still his own boss.
The other disciples weren't perfect. They were actually a mess! They argued about who was the best and, hours later, they would all run away in fear. But they got the most important thing right: They knew Jesus owned them.
Calling Jesus "Lord" isn't just a religious habit; it’s a confession of ownership. It means saying, "You have the final word. My bank account, my career, my family, and my secret thoughts belong to You."
The irony of the Christian life is this: True freedom only starts when we stop trying to control everything. We find deep healing and real peace not by "studying" harder, but by surrendering.
Reflection for This Week
It’s possible to go to church, volunteer, and know the Bible cover-to-cover while still relating to Jesus as a "Rabbi"—someone you admire but don't actually submit to.
This week, don't just ask, "What should I do?" Ask, "Lord, what do You desire?" Move past admiring His wisdom and start trusting His authority. True life begins when Jesus moves from the chalkboard of your mind to the throne of your heart.