20 Now when evening came, Jesus was reclining at the table with the twelve disciples. 21 As they were eating, He said, “Truly I say to you that one of you will betray Me.” 22 Being deeply grieved, they each one began to say to Him, “Surely not I, Lord?”
Less than 24 hours until His crucifixion and the day grows ominous. The Master speaks of betrayal. Dinner, the Passover, was supposed to be a happy time, remembering God’s goodness and redemption of Israel. It was a celebration of their relationship with the covenant God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; a relishing in their freedom from Egyptian slavery of many years previous, and a fanning of the flame of hope that they would someday be freed from the Roman oppression they were currently experiencing.
Despite the external opposition from the religious leaders, the disciples had been riding the wave of populism. The sights and sounds of the triumphal entry of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on Zechariah’s donkey—all must have reverberated in their minds, overwhelming the overtures of opposition against Him and them. Failure of Jesus’ mission was simply not an option they entertained in the least.
But Jesus was not happy. In the middle of the meal, He laid a bomb. As was His normal custom for emphasis, He began with “Truly” (or as the KJV renders it, “Amen”). Take special note, He says, “One of you will betray me.” He had mentioned before that He was going to suffer and die, and they had the same reaction then, they were “deeply grieved” (Matthew 17:22-23).
Their grief could have come from a number of sources. First, they could have been reacting to the thought that Jesus could even question their allegiance to Him. “How could He think that of us!” A second possibility is that they could have been grieving that one of their fellow disciples could be messing up the plan for liberation. Luke records their rivalry, “… there arose also a dispute among them as to which one of them was regarded to be greatest.” (Luke 22:24). The third, and most probable explanation of their grieving is that there was genuine fear in each one of them, that the duplicity of their hearts was about to be exposed. Every one of them had outwardly demonstrated sacrifice, having left their homes and families to follow Christ. But which of them, or any of us, has not secret, hidden places of the heart where our loyalty is in doubt? Which of us can say with absolute assurance that we would remain loyal even to death? Desperately, they cry out, “Surely you don’t mean me, do you, Lord?”
O Lord, You who search the hearts and minds, please forgive me for my doubts and weak loyalty. I want to love You with all my heart, soul, mind and strength.
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