Betrayal didn’t surprise Jesus. He foretold it. He faced it. And He submitted to it—not because He was powerless, but because He was obedient to the will of the Father.

In Matthew 26, we see Jesus call Judas “friend” even as Judas approaches with the intent to hand Him over. The word is heavy. Not sarcastic. Not bitter. But sovereign and steady. Jesus, fully aware of what’s unfolding, walks forward willingly to accomplish the mission set before Him: to suffer and die for sinners — including betrayers.
 
Earlier in the chapter, a woman anoints Jesus with costly perfume. The disciples, particularly Judas, rebuke the act as wasteful. But Jesus honors her devotion. The fragrance of worship clashes with the stench of self-interest. What seems extravagant to men is beautiful in the sight of God.
 
Not long after, Judas goes to the chief priests and agrees to betray the Son of God for thirty pieces of silver — the price of a slave (Exodus 21:32). How quickly worship can be replaced with greed. How easily we trade the glory of Christ for the lesser treasures of this world.

But this isn’t just Judas’ story. This is ours.
 
We, too, are prone to betray Jesus—not with a kiss perhaps, but with our compromise. Every time we elevate wealth, status, or power above Christ, we repeat that same old sin. Every time we recoil from a gospel that calls us to die to self and follow a crucified Savior, we echo the ancient grumble: “This is not the Messiah I expected.”

Jesus came not to overthrow Rome but to conquer sin. Not to assert earthly dominance, but to lay down His life. His kingdom does not advance through force, but through sacrifice. And sometimes we don’t like that. Sometimes we don’t want a cross-shaped life. But Jesus is still King — even when we misunderstand Him.