"When it was evening, he reclined at table with the Twelve. And while they were eating, he said, 'Amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me.' Deeply distressed at this, they began to say to him one after another, 'Surely it is not I, Lord?'"
—Matthew 26:20–22
There is a strange stillness at the heart of this passage. On the surface, events are barreling forward - Judas’s betrayal is set in motion, and the final supper is approaching. But, as always, something underneath is quietly unfolding.
We often focus on Judas because his betrayal is shocking in its clarity: “What are you willing to give me?” His relationship with Jesus is reduced to a transaction of 30 pieces of silver, perhaps four months’ wages. More striking is what happens later at the table when, after the fact, he protests, “Surely it is not I, Rabbi?” Jesus simply responds, “You have said so.” Jesus says this again two more times during the Passion- to Caiaphas and to Pilate. It is his way of telling the truth in a way that makes the speaker state it himself. Jesus does not try to stop Judas nor does he expose him before the others. There is something unbearably poignant in his restraint: His love does not ask for obedience even in the face of heart-breaking betrayal.
Perhaps even more unsettling is how the others do not respond with confident denial to “One of you will betray me.” Instead, they ask uncertainly, “Surely it is not I, Lord?” After three years of living with Jesus and witnessing all they have, they are still turned inward: Where do I stand? What does this mean about me?
The Twelve are likely closer to Jesus than anyone else is. And yet, in this moment when they might be consoling him, they are concerned for themselves. They are not ambitious or greedy like Judas, but they are looking for reassurance of their own righteousness. They have not yet found themselves in Jesus. So, when they ask, “Surely it is not I?” they not only fear the possibility of their own betrayal, but they also reveal a deep instability within themselves.
And then, almost unnoticed, there is the man who offers his home to Jesus. He does not speak because he has already said “yes” without the need for recognition or reassurance. Jesus is already under suspicion, and especially during Passover the city is extremely tense. By hosting Jesus, the man is risking his safety and that of his household and family. And his home becomes the setting for remarkable events: the Last Supper and the beginning of the Passion. While the disciples remain inwardly searching, this man answers a far more demanding and exciting call - he surrenders all that he has to Jesus at a time of great peril.
And so, for us the question shifts. It is not, “Am I Judas?” but rather, “Do I actually know my own heart?” As Lent draws to a close, where are we still protecting ourselves? Where are we asking, “What does this mean for me?” instead of simply making space? Perhaps real discipleship begins with the willingness to remain with Jesus when we are uncertain and give him all that is ours without question.
Diana Murray is a member of the C21 Center's Pray It Forward community. She offered the above reflection on Wednesday, April 1, 2026. It is shared with her permission.
Learn more about Pray It Forward here.