Betrayed!

If you never struggle with emotions, you don’t need to read this.

How did Jesus feel when He was betrayed by Judas? This question came up in our Thursday night online Bible study last week. The consensus of the discussion was that Jesus would have felt just like we would, because of course in addition to being fully God, He was fully man. Surely He would have been hurt, angry, bitter. But then there was also the qualification made that He would have, sometime over the next few hours, let go of those feelings and forgiven Judas. After all, He was the unblemished Lamb of God. He couldn’t go to the Cross with unforgiveness sullying His heart.

We moved on to the next topic, but I kept thinking about that question throughout the rest of the study and also in the days that followed. It seemed that the Lord was prodding me to look a little deeper.

I found that in order to answer the original question, “How did Jesus feel when He was betrayed,” I had to ask some other ones.

1. Did the betrayal come as a surprise?

2. Was Jesus a victim? Did He feel sorry for Himself?

3. As the Son of God, did Jesus have an advantage in dealing with His emotions, an advantage that we do not have?
4. How did Jesus rise above His emotions, and how can we?

Did the betrayal come as a surprise?

The first thought that came to mind as I continued to think about our online discussion was a memory of a scripture about Jesus entrusting Himself to no one because He knew what was in men’s hearts. I looked it up in the NLT. He “didn’t trust them, because he knew all about people. No one needed to tell him about human nature, for he knew what was in each person’s heart” (John 2:24-25).

There are numerous examples in the gospels of Jesus responding aloud to people’s thoughts. How unnerving that must have been! At first glance this seems like a manifestation of His supernatural side, but consider this: He sometimes gives this kind of inside information to His people too. It’s called the gift of knowledge, and it’s one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, listed in 1 Corinthians 12:1-11. I think He would like to give this gift of supernatural insight to us a lot more frequently, if we would just learn how to listen—and learn how to handle the power in humility.

Judas’s betrayal did not catch Jesus by surprise. He knew what was in Judas’s heart long before that fateful evening. He also knew from the scriptures that He would be betrayed and put to death (Matthew 20:18). At the beginning of that Passover week, heading from Bethany toward Jerusalem, as Isaiah had prophesied (50:7) Jesus “set His face like flint.” He narrowed His focus and mustered His resolve. You don’t set your face like flint for a walk in the park, or for your average annual Jewish festival. He knew exactly what was unfolding.

Was Jesus a victim? Did He ever feel sorry for Himself?

Jesus was not a victim, and He never saw Himself as one, not even when a “friend” heartlessly turned Him over to torture and death for 30 pieces of silver. He said earlier in His ministry that no one could take His life from Him; He would choose to freely lay it down (John 10:18).

A scene in the life of Jesus comes to mind. He is sharing with His followers that He will soon suffer and be put to death by the religious establishment. Peter opens his mouth to protest. His words come from the paradigm of the world, the flesh, and the devil: “Be it far from thee, Lord.” This is the King James, Matthew 16:22, but the original Greek says, “Pity thyself, Lord!” and then he tells Jesus this mustn’t ever happen to Him. (Aren’t you glad Jesus didn’t listen?!) This type of response can certainly set the stage for the victim mentality. (Perhaps we need to be careful not to feed into this attitude when, like Peter, we see a friend facing a difficult situation.)

We know how Jesus responded. As the NLT says, “Jesus turned to Peter and said, ‘Get away from me, Satan! You are a dangerous trap to me. You are seeing things merely from a human point of view, not from God’s.’” He did not hesitate; He would not entertain self-pity even for a moment. That’s why He could say regarding the prince of this world, “He has nothing in me” (John 14:30).  Satan couldn’t even get a toe-hold in His life.

When little demons like self-pity come knocking on our door, if we would stop and listen carefully for Jesus’ voice, we would hear Him telling us likewise to give no place to these things. Then maybe, just maybe, we might refuse to open the door.

As the Son of God, did Jesus have an advantage in dealing with His emotions, an advantage that we do not have?

No. Jesus had learned as a man to refuse to be ruled by His emotions. We must learn this too! Many of us think that we simply feel what we feel and that we have no choice in the matter. My husband recently read me a powerful quote form Dallas Willard’s Renovation of the Heart: “With very few exceptions, feelings are good servants, but they are disastrous masters.” It’s a call to learn to master our emotions rather than let them master us.

Emotions that are in line with the will and purposes of God are good things. They are wonderful things. We wouldn’t want to be without them, or life would be pretty boring. But we must be on our guard against emotions and feelings that are out of step with God, His character, His purposes, and His timing.

I don’t think it was His God-genetics that made Jesus emotionally impervious to the pain of the betrayal. He was fully man, and fully subject to the infirmities, the weaknesses, of human flesh. But as He walked the earth, He had learned submission and obedience by the things He suffered (Hebrews 5:8). And He spent long nights (alone but not lonely) in communion  with the Father. He knew His Father’s heart (as we can); and through the disciplines of life He had had His character confirmed in the Father’s likeness. For our part, we are being conformed to the image of Christ.

How did Jesus rise above His emotions, and how can we?

There is powerful counsel laid out for us, in 2 Corinthians 10:5, regarding how to handle imaginations, thoughts, and emotions that are contrary to God’s character and purposes—every high thing that lifts itself up above what we know to be true of God. We are to cast them down and bring each one of them captive to Christ and His kingdom within us. This is how Christ handled His betrayal: He took His thoughts and feelings captive and refused to be dominated by them; in fact, He had settled the matter and chosen to forgive long before that particular betrayal actually took place. Long before He hung on the Cross, the very posture of His heart had become “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

He calls us to be of the same heart and mind, not just with betrayal but with every contrary spirit and accompanying emotion, to handle things the way He did. He has put His spirit within us, and He will help if we call. Just remember: Thinking about it is not the same as praying about it. When we do actually open our mouths to pray, even a simple “Help me, Lord!” will open the floodgates of grace and we will experience supernatural deliverance in the middle of everyday moments.

This is the example He’s given us to follow (1 Peter 2:23, NIV): “When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly.”

How do you feel when you’re betrayed? It really doesn’t matter what the emotions are; it only matters that you submit them to God.

Quail and Manna

I was really hoping I was going to get a good sleep Saturday night. My adrenals have cratered again from the release of moulds in my body as I continue battling that scourge, and Sunday is always a full day, especially this one with young adults coming out for brunch after church. (This was shortly before COVID-19 social distancing restrictions set in.)

Although I had hoped to get to bed at 9:00, with unexpected company I wasn’t settled until closer to 11:00, and then I couldn’t fall asleep. Too much vitamin C, I think. In the past, taking large doses of this key nutrient has been a sure-fire way to help my adrenals and my energy rally. But if it’s taken too close to bedtime, it can wake me up. I’m sure I wasn’t asleep until after midnight, and I woke up at 4:30. I got up, put on my porridge, and spent some time with the Lord.

It was 6:15 when I headed back up to bed. I was praying, “Lord, if I’m not able to go back to sleep, please sustain me supernaturally.” Jesus said He had food to eat that His disciples knew not of (John 4:32); He was supernaturally sustained by His relationship with God. In Matthew 4:4, AMP, Jesus said, “Man shall not live and be upheld and sustained by bread alone, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.” He was quoting Deuteronomy 8:3. His own experience was that, when necessary, the substance of the Word of God was able to sustain and nourish His body.

In the same way, surely if I trust God in this regard, in the absence of sufficient sleep, God’s word is able to refresh and restore my body. I prayed that if I couldn’t have the one He would give me the other. “But then,” I added, “it would be nice to have both!”—and I smiled kind of sheepishly at God.

I got into bed and lay on my back with my hands flat open in a posture of receiving. I heard myself saying, “Lord, I receive not your quail but your manna.” It had such a ring of truth and power as I spoke it that I repeated it quietly over and over.

Both manna and quail were part of God’s provision to the Israelites in the wilderness, but in my mind at that point, quail represented provision of and from this world to meet my physical needs (nonetheless through God). As such, in this moment, it represented sleep. On the other hand, manna represented a provision straight from heaven metabolized into a form sufficient to meet that physical need—in the absence of sleep.

As I lay there, I said, “Lord, I need to receive your provision, but I don’t really know how.” But then I corrected myself and said, “Lord, I do know how; it’s just that it seems so hard—such a discipline to my flesh. What I need to do is simply tell You my need and then lie here expectantly and wait for You and believe You to fulfill it.”

Hmm. Need and expectation. It was making me think of a chapter in my marriage book (Made in Heaven, Fleshed Out on Earth), a chapter called “Needs and Expectations,” which is essentially about how these things can negatively impact a marriage relationship. They can cause very unhealthy dynamics. But how different, it struck me, are needs and expectations within our relationship with God. There, we express to Him our needs, and then we wait with expectation for Him to fulfill them. This makes for a very healthy relationship with God. He wants us to bring Him our needs, and He is pleased when we come to Him with confident expectation. This is a picture of faith, and it moves God’s heart and hand. 

As I continued to pray for God to help me to receive “not the quail but the manna,” He suddenly reminded me that just a few days ago, He had shown me something I’d never realized before. There was not just one time when God sent quail, the time He was angry and smote them with a plague while the flesh was still in their teeth (Numbers Chapter 11, especially verses 31-33). That was the second time. But the first time was the evening before He first sent the manna (Exodus 16:13). In the evening God sent quail that fell in the camp, and in the morning He sent the first of the manna. The Israelites had been complaining about being hungry and God sent them both earthly quail and heavenly manna.

It’s suddenly struck me that I could change my plea from “Help me receive not your quail but your manna” to “Both would be nice, Lord!” I felt He was saying, “There’s no reason you can’t have both sleep and supernatural rejuvenation through My Word.”

And so, gratefully, I was able to fall asleep for another hour. Then I was jarred awake from a heavy slumber by my alarm. I forced myself to throw back the covers immediately, stood up, and then stumbled into the shower. I allowed myself no murmuring and no self-pity, as there is no quicker way to cut oneself off from the provision of God. From then on through the whole day, until 7:00 in the evening when the last of the young adults left, I was marvellously sustained by continuing to trust God.