Midweek 2

Matthew 26:20–25

7 min read

Midweek 2

Matthew 26:20–25

[The Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ: I. The Lord's Supper] When it was evening, He reclined at table with the twelve. And as they were eating, He said, "Truly, I say to you, one of you will betray Me." And they were very sorrowful and began to say to Him one after another, "Is it I, Lord?" He answered, "He who has dipped his hand in the dish with Me will betray Me. The Son of Man goes as it is written of Him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that man if he had not been born." Judas, who would betray Him, answered, "Is it I, Rabbi?" He said to him, "You have said so."

The "sore abuse and scorn" that paled our Lord's head "with anguish" (LSB 450:2) began long before the physical abuse. It began with the actions of a friend, one whom He loved, a companion with whom He had traveled many miles and shared many meals. Here was a wound that weighed down our Lord's sacred head and brought Him sorrow and grief that compounded the weight of the sin He bore upon His cross.

"One of you will betray Me," He said at the table that night. And they became sad and asked one after another, "Is it I, Lord?" We, too, need to ask that question of our Lord: Have I sold You out, Lord? Have I lived for this world and its pleasures and bought into them, rather than wanting You, spending time with You, hearing Your words of life? Have I lived as if I mattered most and You mattered not at all? Is it I, Lord? Jesus makes it clear: the wound of betrayal is not inflicted upon Him by those who are distant from Him, from those who are not His companions, or His friends, or those close to him. No. This is a pain that comes from those nearest to Him, from those whom He held in special love. "He who has dipped his hand in the dish with Me will betray Me" (Matthew 26:23). Not someone distant and unknown, but someone near, dear, and loved.

But note the love of the Lord! Don't think for one second that the Lord's love for Judas, His betrayer, was altered by the betrayal. The psalmist spoke truly when he said: "The Lord is good to all, and His mercy is over all that He has made" (Psalm 145:9). He loved this man who would go his senseless way. Jesus loved this man who would despised and turn from His love. Jesus loved this man who had been a friend for year and then suddenly turned on him and betrayed him. For Judas, the betrayal was so big a sin that he was convinced he would never find forgiveness. Yes, the betrayal was a horrible sin in Judas, and it is a horrible sin in us. What on earth can justify handing over the Creator of all, he who has showed us only benevolence and love, into the agony of torture, crucifixion, and death? What madness is it that would lead the creature to betray the Creator? What folly to chase a few bucks for a while in this world, while spurning the gift of a life that never ends?

"The Son of Man goes as it is written of Him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that man if he had not been born" (Matthew 26:24). Did our Lord ever utter a more terrifying word? But Jesus did not say these words out of hatred, anger, or any such thing? He spoke from the depth of His sorrowful compassion. He saw where Judas would end his life, that in the end Judas would despair of the mercy of God and go to his grave an unbeliever; believing that his sin was stronger than God's mercy in Christ. And that's what broke our Lord's heart even more than the betrayal itself.

How little Judas understood the Son of Man whom he betrayed! For it was also for the sin of Judas, and the sin of all us Judases, that the Son of Man stretched His hands on the wood and let them pound in the nails. It was for the sin of Judas, and of all us Judases, that the Son of Man pleaded, "Father, forgive them!" It was for the sin of Judas, and of all us Judases, that the Lord of life let "grim death, with cruel rigor" (LSB 450:2) rob Him of His life so that sin and death would lose their claim over us forever.

The pain of betrayal is great, and it wounded our Lord's tender heart. But it could never turn that heart to bitterness. In that heart lives a love too great, too strong, too mighty for bitterness and hatred to ever conquer it. Although betrayal hurts, and it hurt like hell itself, Jesus went on loving—Judas, you, even me.

And so in the wounds of the Crucified One we discover a love that sets us free to love as we have been loved. You know what that means. Our Lord spoke often of taking up our cross and following Him.

Do you see, now, what your cross is? How often we too are betrayed by those friends we love. We are betrayed when we love someone, and instead of our love being returned, it is rejected. Such betrayal hurts and wounds us in an unspeakable way. Sometimes we are crushed and reduced to tears when our dear friends turn on us and return only hatred for our love. Then the old Adam rises up inside us in indignation and anger and eagerness to get even. But by the strength of Christ's cross, by the power of our Baptism into His love, we are able to nail the old fellow, that Old Man in us to the wood and say: No! By the power of Him who forgave me, even when I have betrayed Him so many times, we can forgive. By the power of Him who loved us, even when we sold Him out, we will love the one who has hurt us.

This is a cross, my friends. And it will be torture and death to the old Adam in us, but to the new man that God created in Baptism, it will be joy and life. We will be sharing in the very life of your Savior.

We have not begun to love with Christ's love until we have come, by God's grace, to love those whom we thought were our friends but who have betrayed us, who have hurt us, and brought us sorrow. When we go on loving them and seeking good for them and their blessing—which is an impossible feat for fallen human nature, but possible in communion with the love of Christ— then we begin to taste something of the joy known by the martyrs of Christ across many centuries, those who loved and prayed for the people who brought them even to death.

As often as the Church celebrates the Eucharist, she celebrates the love that is in her Savior, which is stronger than all our betrayals—a love that He gives us freely in the body and blood that won forgiveness for Judas, for you, and for all. It is our experience of such love that frees and strengthens us to bear the wounds of betrayal ourselves, following our Lord with joy. May He give us grace to do so, our crucified and risen Lord, to whom be glory with the Father and the Holy Spirit forever and ever!

Amen.