The Betrayal and Arrest

S. Mark xiv. 43–52

In our bewilderment at the enormity of Judas’s crime, we try to discover some trace of extenuating circumstances. There are so many instances in which men, who have not trained themselves to resist in lesser matters, have been caught in a whirlpool of sudden temptation, and carried away almost before they knew where they were, that it is just possible something of this kind happened to Judas. He had an innate love of money, and instead of checking it in the beginning, put himself in harm’s way; and it may be, by frequent little pilferings from the common purse, which his too trustful companions confided to his care, he lost the power of resistance altogether. Then at last, when some overmastering impulse to gratify his ruling passion by a supreme act of treachery seized hold upon him, he yielded a ready obedience.

But even if we could satisfy ourselves that he was surprised in this way into that base covenant with the chief priests, there is no excuse, no palliation whatever, admissible after the bargain was struck.

A moment’s reflection must have opened his eyes and shown him that the paltry sum which they had offered (it was but the price of a slave — the blood-money for a slave who had been accidentally killed) was wholly inadequate to yield any compensation for the shame it entailed. No, if we may judge of the whole transaction from what is told of his conduct after the compact was made, it was a cold-blooded, deep-laid design, conceived and executed under no excitement of passionate impulse, nor any imperious temptation, but marked throughout by premeditated duplicity.

Let us follow his steps from the moment that he leaves the Upper Chamber after discovering that his design is no longer a secret. His first object is to preclude, by the most careful precautions, all possibility of its miscarrying. He hurries first to the chief priests and reports to them that the convenient opportunity has arrived when their Victim may be secured “in the absence of the multitude;” for He was gone to pray in a retired spot, at some distance from the bustle of the city, in the Garden of Gethsemane.

He could hardly expect them to take part in the arrest themselves (though in their eagerness they actually did so); he therefore enlists the sympathy of their servants. He had no doubt that they would enter cordially into the plot, for they could not have failed to conceive an hatred of One Who had spoken such bitter things against their masters.

Then, having secured a goodly number of these, he seeks reinforcements from the officers of the Temple, and the company of Levites, whose duty it was to keep watch and ward at its gates and courts. This was amply sufficient for his purpose, if all went well; but if any unforeseen delay should arise, and the capture not be made till the morning, when the populace was astir again, it was quite possible that a rescue might be attempted. The inhabitants were in an excited mood, as the Triumphal Entry a few days before had clearly shown, and they were as likely as not to create a tumult, which military force alone would be able to suppress. Nothing remains then but to appeal to the Roman governor. No doubt he supported his application by telling him that Jesus was a dangerous character, who aimed at the overthrow of the existing authority. His request was granted, and a detachment from the garrison stationed in the fortress of Antonia was told off for the traitor’s purpose. The whole company must be armed. The soldiers of course had their swords; the officers of the Temple took their batons, and the rest such sticks or staves as they could procure; but even these precautions were not enough. It was night, and although the great Paschal moon was shining overhead, in that rugged Valley of Jehoshaphat there were clefts of rock, and there were deep shadows thrown from many objects, by which Jesus might conceal Himself and escape. A supply of lanterns and torches was provided for such an emergency; and then, just when this weird and motley crowd were prepared to start on their unhallowed search, one last caution was given by the traitor. Jesus was well known no doubt to many of them, for “He was daily in the Temple;” but to the soldiers He was probably a total stranger; let there be no mistake then on their part, no arrest of another in the excitement of capture. “Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is He, take Him, and lead Him away safely.” This preconcerted signal proved to be wholly unnecessary, but it was employed for another object, which gives still further proof of the traitor’s resolute determination to carry out his wicked purpose.

We cannot be sure of the sequence of events, but a comparison of S. John’s narrative leads us to place a very important circumstance before the kiss of betrayal. Jesus hearing footsteps approaching goes forth of His Own accord to meet the crowd, and before anything has been said asks the question, “Whom seek ye?” They answer, “Jesus the Nazarene;” to which He replies at once, “I am He,” and all were panicstruck; there was something so wholly unlike what they expected. Whether, as some have thought, it was a second flash of the Transfiguration glory, a “ray of Divinity” streaming forth from His face in that hour of darkness, or whether it was merely an intensified form of a mysterious power, which in moments of apparent helplessness has so often disarmed an assailant — the calmness of innocence making the guilty tremble — whatever the cause, the multitude staggered backwards and fell to the ground before Him.

Now, if it was after this that the kiss of betrayal was given, we find in it a deeper purpose than the mere indication of his Victim. The sign was no longer needed for that. When the armed multitude rose to their feet, for a moment they must have stood irresolute. Judas was in dread lest through their fear all might miscarry even at the last. The vivid imagination of a thoughtful writer has put the scene dramatically before us, by imagining that some one whispered in his ear at this crisis, “Judas, if thou approachest Him, thou art a dead man.” “Be not afraid,” says the traitor, “He never injured any one. I will show you there is nothing to fear.” He knew by experience that he might do it with perfect safety. “Rabbi, Rabbi,” 2 he cries, and then with an hypocrisy that finds no parallel in history, kisses Him, not once only, but, as the original language 3 implies, again and again.

What an exhibition it is of the Divine perfection of Christ’s character! How completely was the spirit of revenge, which is so sweet to the heart of man, held in check, just when we should have thought ourselves more than justified in punishing such baseness. Well indeed has it been said, “Wouldest thou know what Satan can do, and God can bear j what the basest of mankind can do, and the best of manhood can bear: behold the lips of Judas who kisses, and the cheek of Jesus which receives the kiss.”

And so the traitor’s end was gained; the crowd, emboldened by his impunity, closed around our Lord, bound Him, and led Him away.

But not alone for the meekness of His submission are we filled with admiring wonder, but as well for the self-forgetfulness which fixed His thoughts on those He loved — “If therefore ye seek Me, let these go their way.” Whatever awaits Him, He will “tread the winepress alone,” and, poor human beings that they were, they yielded to the instinct of self-preservation; “they all forsook Him, and fled.”

As they were fleeing from the spot a strange incident occurred, which has been recorded by S. Mark alone. Some unknown youth — it may have been the owner of Gethsemane, or Lazarus, or S. Mark himself — almost certainly a man of property 2 and position, hearing the tumult hard by, started out of his sleep, and wrapped only in the fine sheet on which he had been lying, ran out to see the cause of the disturbance. The crowd were diverted for the moment by the sudden apparition, and tried to seize him, but he fled away naked. We can only conjecture why such an apparently trifling circumstance should have been deemed worthy of a place in the sacred narrative. It may have been merely one of those vivid details which imprinted themselves on S. Peter’s memory; or possibly, if S. Mark was himself the young man, it attained in his eyes a degree of importance out of proportion to its general interest.

Now, what are the prominent thoughts which this story has fixed in our minds? Betrayal and desertion.

We shrink from the idea that we can betray our Lord as Judas did. And yet, at least in some degree, perhaps we may. Our conscience when probed may compel us to say, we do; never, it is true, with the same heartless cruelty or premeditated craft, but whenever we have received special privileges and have misused them: whenever to hide our wickedness we pretend to be religious, and wear the mask of hypocrisy, we are guilty of the traitor’s duplicity, and like him betray our Master with a kiss.

And do we ever desert Him? Can we recall no times when His Cause demanded our support, when His Word was assailed, His Name blasphemed, it may be even the morality of His Teaching called in question? And did worldly considerations, the love of ease or indifference, or the fear of being worsted or derided, seal our lips, and leave the Christian Faith, like Christ, defenceless in the presence of its foes? If this be so, then we are of the number of those of whom those humiliating words were written, “they all forsook Him, and fled;” and it was our desertion, as well as theirs, which the prophet foretold, when he said, “I looked for some to have pity upon Me, but there was no man: neither found I any to comfort Me.”

Note: ipaaTafcv. A.V. “He bare,” more probably “used to take away.” Vulg. “exportabat,” cf. S. John xx. 15.

Note: Stier (Reden Jesu) adduces numerous examples besides those mentioned above; Probus, Pertinax, Stanislaus, and Coligny. Farrar adds to these Avidius Cassius and a band of Egyptians falling prostrate before Simeon, the brother of Joseph, recorded in the Talmud.

Note: The Apostles used to call Jesus by the title of Kvpios. Rabbi was a colder form of address; cf. S. John xiii. 6-37, and S. Matt. xxvi. 25.

Note: Kar€(ptT)<7€P. Kara in compounds often expresses intensity. When he gives the signal to the company it is simply the uncompounded form. One kiss would suffice for this. Its repetition was needed to re-establish the courage of his followers.

Note: Plumptre in his article on “Lazarus” in Smith’s Bib. Diet., and also in his Commentary, brings forward numerous arguments in favour of this view. They are full of interest, and well worthy of consideration. Epiphanius, Adv. Haer. lxxviii. 13, suggests that it was James the Just, our Lord’s brother.

Note:” The linen cloth “(in S. Mark xv. 46,” fine linen “) was a costly material. It was used for winding-sheets for the dead.