Day 37—Holy Wednesday, April 1
- Apr 1
- 4 min read
John 13:21-32
After saying this Jesus was troubled in spirit, and declared, “Very truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me.” The disciples looked at one another, uncertain of whom he was speaking. One of his disciples — the one whom Jesus loved — was reclining next to him; Simon Peter therefore motioned to him to ask Jesus of whom he was speaking. So while reclining next to Jesus, he asked him, “Lord, who is it?” Jesus answered, “It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish.” So when he had dipped the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas son of Simon Iscariot. After he received the piece of bread, Satan entered into him. Jesus said to him, “Do quickly what you are going to do.” Now no one at the table knew why he said this to him. Some thought that, because Judas had the common purse, Jesus was telling him, “Buy what we need for the festival”; or, that he should give something to the poor. So, after receiving the piece of bread, he immediately went out. And it was night.
When he had gone out, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.
Betrayal. These wounds are some of the deepest we endure. Betrayal is hard because it rocks our trust and confidence not just in another person, but in ourselves. Betrayal can shatter our confidence in our own judgement, in our relationships, in our worldview.
But this text, on the heels of Jesus washing the feet of those closest to him, reveals that he expects betrayal. He knows.
Perhaps it is because he is both fully human and divine, but, Jesus clearly understands the reality of humanity’s soaring heights and terrible lows and does not expect to be exempted from that reality.
“Very truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me.”
The Holy and Human One knows. And the disciples look at other another, wondering. Uncertain. Curious. Guilty. Assured. Bewildered.
How does self-reflection and judgement intertwine in that moment for each one, I wonder?
In my own experience, betrayal has been the most painful of wounds, but perhaps it should be the most expected. It is certainly the relational wound that seems to most disorient us. We don’t know who to believe. Who to trust. And that includes ourselves. Betrayal is so painful because the breach is not just with another, but with our own interior lives – our judgement, discernment, relationships, trust.
Yet, instead of offering judgment or teaching a parable, Jesus simply acknowledges the betrayal. He seems to convey his acceptance as he dips the bread, gives it to Judas, and sends him to “do quickly what you are going to do,” saying to the others as Judas departs, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him.” I do hear his words not so much as resignation, but as acceptance and a deep knowing. This is the way. Jesus seems to beckon the disciples toward something more as he speaks.
This betrayal can somehow lead to glory. Glory for the Son of Man and for God.
What can this mean for me? For us? For our world? I wonder.
What if betrayals are an opportunity for glory to rise?
When I reflect on how people respond to their betrayals, I find that those who reach for the holy, who align their actions and attention toward love and compassion point toward a larger hope. A Divine Possibility.
To ask one’s self: In the face of my betrayal can I reach beyond my own pain and loss, grief and grudge toward a life animated by the holy, the redeemed, the reconciled? Can I act in a manner that does not disavow consequences, but instead reaches past them for the glory of God that can arise when we remain true to our deepest calling?
Who comes to mind as you think of the people in your life and in our world who demonstrate this kind of spiritual resilience? Who has shown you, by their own words and actions (or perhaps even by their silence) a Divine Possibility?
Holy One, companion us as we trace the places of betrayal in our lives. At times betrayer. At times betrayed. Help us to draw our attention and effort toward the Divine Possibility, that we might reach beyond our own limitations to find, through acts of obedience, confession, resilience, reconciliation, contrition, and restoration, a way to redeem the broken places in our own stories and in our common human family. And in doing so, may we discover the glory that shines in the face of betrayal, when love triumphs in the face of hurt or hate or estrangement. Amen.
-Jennifer Owen-O’Quill




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