” … dipping the piece of bread, he (Jesus) gave it to Judas,the son of Simon Iscariot. As soon as Judas took the bread, Satan entered into him.” John 13:26-27
I’ve read it before, probably dozens of times, and accepted it as a historical event. As with most historical events, I did not consider the the account as more than a moment in time, I did not consider it as an intimate, emotion-filled, relational moment in time.
When, at the Last Supper, Jesus offered the wine-soaked bread to Judas, he knew that he was holding out his body, broken and blood-soaked, to the one who, would betray him. He knew it because shortly before he said, “this is to fulfill this passage of Scripture: ‘He who shared my bread has turned against me'” (v. 18) and “after he had said this, Jesus was troubled in spirit and testified, “very truly I tell you, one of you is going to betray me” (v. 21).
Jesus is having a meal with his 12. And he decides that his dirty dozen need their feet to be washed. “my concern, you understand, is holiness, not hygiene.”
Then there is Judas. Judas had all that Jesus offered to all of the disciples.
Jesus came for the chosen, no longer just the Jew, but the Gentile as well. Being chosen was no longer a result of cultural blood, but of acceptance of sacrificial blood, spilt for us all. His blood is what binds us all together, and his blood came not from his cultural ancestors, but from love.
And then the bread is dipped into the wine, and Jesus holds it out to Judas …
He offered up the broken bread, and he offered up his broken body.
Can you imagine being Judas? Imagine looking into the eyes of Jesus, and choosing to take the bread, fulfilling the prophesies of the Old Testament, records of the Psalms and Zechariah. He CHOSE to take the bread.
And, as soon as did, as soon as he made the choice, verse 27 tells us that “Satan entered into him.”
So, Judas leaves to do Satan’s work.
There are a number of moments in Jesus’ ministry when I wondered what Judas was thinking, and this was one of them – also when Jesus washed his feet. I think you and I are both visual people. When I read a narrative, I don’t just read the story, I have to direct the play in my head. 😉
🤣 you know, I think you might be right about directing the play in my/our heads.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts. The foot washing part … such an intimate scene … truly something to ponder.
Carole