“Jesus was reclining at the table with the Twelve. And while they were eating, He
said, ‘I tell you the truth, one of you will betray Me.’ They were very sad and began to sat
to Him one after the other, ‘Surely not I, Lord!’ Jesus replied, ‘The one who has dipped
his hand into the bowl with Me will betray Me. The Son of Man will go just as it is written
about Him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him
had he not been born’” (Matthew 26:20)
This is the moment Leonardo da Vinci lifted up in his famous painting of the Last Supper. Yet his painting along with all western paintings of that event missed the poignant contrast between love and betrayal. We learn from Luke’s gospel that even on that very night the apostles had been arguing with one another over priority of placement in their ranks (Luke 22:24). Peter, the acknowledged leader, was seated out of hearing range (John 13:24). John the Beloved was next to Jesus, probably on His left side. The honored place at the right hand of Jesus was set for Judas Iscariot, since Jesus would be leaning, reclining, on his left elbow, freeing His right hand for eating. And for dipping into the same bowl as Judas.
He surmised for a time that He was losing the loyalty of Judas. For all His divine attributes, Jesus needed only the basic human insight most of us possess when we sense that somebody close to us is no longer responding to the waves of affection sent from our heart. As He was taking the opportunity to win back the affection of Judas, we marvel at the intensity of God’s love for human beings as St. Paul described regarding Jesus: “Who, being in the very nature of God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the nature of a servant” (Philippians 2:5).
Jesus loves intensely. Not just humanity in general, as we all say we do; but each human being as though he or she were the only person God had created. And He loved Judas, whom we have a tendency to revile. Yet He never ceased loving him, even when He was aware of Judas’ ignominious betrayal for a mere amount one would pay to return a slave to his owner.
Would we appreciate Jesus more if He had demanded some satisfaction there among His group of apostles? Had He exposed Judas openly, rising dramatically and pointing His finger at the door, expelling the traitor, our instinct would be to identify with the human need to maintain one’s pride and dignity. But Jesus had no need to demand human satisfaction.
Was Judas free to betray or remain loyal to Jesus? Or was he the pawn of God, like an actor in a Greek drama whose role was fixed from the start? In other terms, was he destined to betray Jesus from his birth, or even before? The answer: He was clearly a free human being. Part of being human is to share the gift of freedom—indeed, an aspect of being made in the image of God. Had he not betrayed the Master another might have done so, or perhaps His enemies would have searched out another method for getting to Him, and getting Him in the end. Nevertheless, the gospels make clear how Jesus tried to save Judas from his fate. In the end Judas refused to respond to the Lord’s love. Even then Jesus, knowing his decision was final, told him, “what you are about to do, do quickly”(John 13:27). Spare yourself even more agony over your ignominy. When Judas left the meal, John’s gospel relates: “It was night” (John 13:30), the darkest night the world has ever known.