“But see, the one who betrays me is with me, and his hand is on the table. For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!’ Then they began to ask one another which one of them it could be who would do this” (Luke 22:21-23).
Is it I, Lord? It’s a fair question to ask. This year during the season of Lent our congregation pondered “Questions Jesus Asked” based on Magrey DeVega’s latest offering of the same name. Then we gathered on Wednesday nights to share a meal with each other and consider “Questions We Ask Jesus” as a companion conversation with Sunday’s sermon. “Is it I, Lord?” is a question we should ask, and often speak out loud in our prayers. We might be quick to sing “Here I Am, Lord,” but slow to ponder either how we avoid the cross, or how impose a cross upon our neighbor. After offering the bread as his body and the wine as his blood, Jesus changes the tenor of a conversation about his devotion and dedication to his disciples to say, “But see, the one who betrays me is with me, and his hand is on the table. For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!”
I’ve always read this moment as convicting consternation, or at least a pronouncement of damnation against the poor soul who is to betray Jesus. And we all know it’s Judas, so why be so cryptic about the whole thing? And yet, we’re dealing with Jesus here. The one who offered his life as a ransom for many, and begs forgiveness of his abusers from the cross. Damnation against someone around the table whom Jesus invited doesn’t sound much like…well…Jesus.
“The one who betrays me is with me” (Luke 22:21)—Jesus invited the betrayer in. It’s not that this makes the betrayal worse. Are there even degrees of betrayal? But it does reveal the vulnerable love of God. Jesus could have kicked Judas out. Jesus could have kept their plans secret. Jesus could have made an example out of Judas just in case any of the other disciples are thinking about straying from the mission. Nope. The betrayer is with me, and his hand is on the table…because I have made for him a seat.
Jesus goes on to say, “For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined” (Luke 22:22). Hold this for a moment. Jesus knows the cross is coming. It’s not so much that in the book of life was written that on April 7th you will be crucified a 9:00 in the morning at the age of 33. Jesus knows that when you overturn money-changing tables, you speak truth to the ruling elite, and you heal those whom society thinks deserve the state in which they find themselves…you’re going to get crucified. When Jesus was in the garden and says “thy will be done”, death isn’t God’s will. Good news to the poor, recovery of sight, release of the captive and the jubilee is God’s will. The death part was us. Until the kingdom comes into fruition, the price for doing the work of God is great. When you push the world, the world pushes back.
Here’s the thing. For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed! Woe to that one by whom he is betrayed. Woe means an “exclamation of grief”…not damnation. Jesus is not condemning Judas. Jesus is profoundly grieved. “For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!” Another way to say this is, “I know I’m going to the cross, and it grieves me that you think betrayal is the only way to see the kingdom of God.”
In Luke 6 when Jesus says, “Woe to you who are rich now, for you have already received your reward,” is not a condemnation as much as it is a sadness that the wealthy think money is the fulfillment of God’s work. “Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry,” is a grieving to know that some trust in material things, because those things will fail, and when they do we are left hungry. Woe to you who are laughing now, because those in power are the ones who laugh. When you think political influence is all there is, when it is gone, you will weep, and that grieves me.
There is a grief in thinking betrayal is the only way to see glory of God. How deep God’s love for us to hold us in our fear, our short sidedness, our failure to be vulnerable, our love of talking past one another, and our thoughts and prayers instead of compassionate action. How deep God’s love for us when we flee from the hard, or when we refuse to break bread with our enemy. “Is it I” is not a self-reflection of betrayal, but the profound realization of grace that it IS I whom God loves. And can it be that I should gain…