Passage 📖: Matthew 26:47–56

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👋 Introduction to Today’s Lesson

Have you ever been betrayed by someone close to you?

Not a stranger.

But someone you loved.

Someone you poured into.

Someone who knew your heart… and still walked away?

That kind of betrayal hits different.

It’s not just painful — it’s disorienting.

Because how do you love someone…

Who used your trust as the weapon?

That’s the kind of moment Jesus faces in today’s lesson.

He’s not ambushed by enemies.

He’s handed over by a friend.

But what He does next is stunning.

He doesn’t lash out.

He doesn’t shut down.

He doesn’t run.

Instead… He shows us a better way.

Not just how to survive betrayal —

But how to heal through it.

Let’s dive in.

Last week, we sat with Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane — a place of agony, surrender, and honest prayer.

We watched as He grieved what was coming… and still chose to trust the Father.

He knew His friends would scatter.

He knew Peter would deny Him.

He even begged for another way.

But His final words were: “Not as I will, but as You will.”

And through His example, we were reminded:

Jesus didn’t overcome because He avoided pain.

He overcame because He trusted through it.

And He gives us that strength, too.

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While he was still speaking, Judas came, one of the twelve, and with him a great crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and the elders of the people. 

Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, “The one I will kiss is the man; seize him.” And he came up to Jesus at once and said, “Greetings, Rabbi!” And he kissed him. Jesus said to him, “Friend, do what you came to do.” 

Then they came up and laid hands on Jesus and seized him.  And behold, one of those who were with Jesus stretched out his hand and drew his sword and struck the servantof the high priest and cut off his ear. Then Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place. For all who take the sword will perish by the sword. Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels? But how then should the Scriptures be fulfilled, that it must be so?” At that hour Jesus said to the crowds, “Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs to capture me? Day after day I sat in the temple teaching, and you did not seize me. But all this has taken place that the Scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled.” Then all the disciples left him and fled.

We’re still in the Garden of Gethsemane — just outside Jerusalem on the Mount of Olives.

Jesus had been praying alone, in deep anguish, while His disciples repeatedly fell asleep nearby.

It’s late — possibly past midnight. The air is heavy with tension. And in the shadows… a crowd approaches.

But this isn’t just any crowd.

This is an armed detachment sent by the chief priests and elders — with swords and clubs (v. 47).

They’re not here for questions.

They’re here to arrest Him.

Leading the charge is someone close: Judas, one of the Twelve.

He doesn’t shout or accuse.

He walks up to Jesus… and kisses Him.

A greeting that should symbolize love and loyalty becomes the very signal of betrayal.

John’s Gospel adds detail: this group likely included Temple guards and possibly some Roman soldiers.

In other words — this is a state-sanctioned arrest organized by religious leaders and backed by force.

They didn’t just come to talk.

They came ready for resistance.

One of the disciples — John identifies him as Peter — reacts on instinct.

He draws a sword and strikes, cutting off the ear of the high priest’s servant (v. 51).

It’s messy.

It’s impulsive.

It’s human.

But Jesus immediately stops him.

He says:

“Put your sword back in its place. For all who take the sword will perish by the sword.” (v. 52)

Then, He says something astonishing:

“Do you think I cannot appeal to my Father, and He will at once send more than twelve legions of angels?” (v. 53)

Jesus isn’t helpless.

He’s restrained — choosing surrender, not because He lacks power, but because He trusts the plan.

This scene is filled with tension and contrast:

But Jesus isn’t reacting.

He’s fulfilling.

“All this has taken place that the Scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled.” (v. 56)

This isn’t chaos.

It’s a controlled descent into suffering — not to be avoided, but to be embraced for the sake of the world.

And just as He predicted…

“Then all the disciples left Him and fled.” (v. 56)

Even the bravest among them — who hours earlier claimed they would never fall away — run into the darkness.

As the soldiers and religious leaders arrive with weapons drawn, Jesus challenges the absurdity of the moment:

“Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs to capture Me? Day after day I sat in the temple teaching, and you did not seize Me.” — Matthew 26:55

On the surface, He’s pointing out a contradiction:

But there’s more going on here.

In Greek, the word for “robber” (λῃστής / lēstēs) was often used for violent revolutionaries — political insurrectionists, not common thieves.

This is the same word used to describe the two men crucified beside Jesus (Matthew 27:38) — and the one Barabbas, a rebel, who is later released instead of Him (Mark 15:7).

In other words, they’re treating Jesus like a threat to the state.

Like a zealot.

Like someone who might lash out or lead a rebellion.

But that’s not who He is — and He makes that clear.

Jesus is exposing their fear, their hypocrisy, and their cowardice.

He was never hiding.

They just didn’t have the courage to confront Him in the light.

And now — with swords drawn — they reveal more about themselves than they do about Him.

When Peter draws his sword to defend Jesus, it looks like loyalty.

But Jesus stops him — not out of fear, but out of clarity.

“Do you think I cannot appeal to My Father, and He will at once send Me more than twelve legions of angels?” — Matthew 26:53

Jesus wasn’t powerless.

He had full access to the armies of heaven.

But He laid it down — on purpose.

Why?

Because He wasn’t here to win a fight.

He was here to lay down His life.

This is divine restraint.

The Son of God — who spoke galaxies into existence — chooses not to use that power for self-protection, but for sacrificial love.

And that becomes our example, too.

As children of God, we carry spiritual authority.

Heaven hears our prayers.

We’ve been given access to boldness, wisdom, and power through the Spirit.

But sometimes, the greatest witness isn’t in using that authority to win…

But in laying it down for the good of others.

Sometimes, the strongest thing you can do

— is not defend your name.

— is not prove your point.

— is not fight for control.

But to lay down what’s rightfully yours…

in order to lift up someone else.

Because power in the Kingdom isn’t proven by what you can take —

but by what you’re willing to give.

Jesus didn’t just die for us.

He showed us how to live.

Not clinging to status.

But surrendering in love.

Judas doesn’t show up alone.

He brings a crowd — armed with swords and clubs.

But the blow doesn’t come from a soldier.

It comes from Judas himself…

With a kiss.

A symbol of affection… twisted into betrayal.

And Jesus?

He doesn’t flinch.

He doesn’t strike back.

He looks him in the eye and says:

“Friend, do what you came to do.” (v. 50)

He calls him friend — even as he’s being handed over.

Why?

Because Jesus didn’t just talk about loving enemies —

He loved them, in the moment of betrayal.

And that raises a question for us:

What do you do when you know someone’s taking advantage of you?

When your name is being slandered?

When your kindness is being exploited?

Do you greet them with restraint — or revenge?

Do you still love — when it hurts?

Because this moment isn’t just about Judas.

It’s a mirror — held up to us.

Jesus didn’t just teach grace.

He embodied it — even in the hands of a traitor.

And now, He turns to us and asks:

Will we also love the ones who wound us?

In a moment of panic, Peter reaches for what’s familiar — his sword.

He thinks violence will fix what’s broken.

But Jesus stops him.

“Those who live by the sword will die by it.” (v. 52)

He’s not just rebuking Peter’s action —

He’s correcting his entire framework.

You can’t usher in the Kingdom of God with the tools of empire.

Not through domination.

Not through fear.

Not through force.

Why it matters:

We live in a world that tells us to protect ourselves at all costs.

Clap back. Get even. Stay guarded.

But Jesus models a different kind of power —

A power that lays down the sword and picks up the cross.

Because the Kingdom isn’t built on conquest —

It’s built on surrender.

This moment in the garden isn’t just history.

It’s a mirror.

Because all of us have been here —

in that space between love and betrayal,

between power and restraint,

between the urge to fight back… and the invitation to forgive.

Jesus shows us another way.

He doesn’t lash out.

He doesn’t defend His name.

He doesn’t let bitterness write the story.

He calls His betrayer “friend”.

He chooses surrender — not because He’s powerless,

but because His love is stronger than vengeance.

And that’s the invitation for us too.

To trust that love can still win when everything feels unfair.

To believe that forgiveness isn’t weakness — it’s freedom.

To lay down our swords, and follow the One who laid down His life.

Because in the Kingdom, victory doesn’t come through force —

it comes through faithfulness.

And the truest sign of strength…

is a heart that still chooses love when it’s been wounded.

Blessings,

Michael