In the hours leading up to his death, Jesus tells his disciples that one of them will betray him. Now, of course, two people that night knew precisely who that betrayer would be. Judas knew, since he was about to do the betraying. Jesus knew it, too. But even though Jesus knows the “who,” he still frames his imminent betrayal more as a question. He doesn’t say, “We have a traitor in our midst,” (dramatic pause) “and there he is!” Instead, Jesus basically says, “One of you will sell me out for the right price. Is it you? Look into your hearts … and be honest.”
We know the disciples feel the weight of the question because of how shaky and uncertain their response is: “Is it I?” (Matthew 26:22 ESV) The way the question is phrased implies a decided lack of confidence. You could almost read their response as, “It’s not me, Lord … is it?”
This is where Jesus could have answered, “No, it’s not you, Peter. Nope, not you either, John. It’s just one of you—the shady one sneaking out the door right now.” But Jesus goes on to tell them that it is not just one of the disciples who will sell him out. Rather, he says “You will all fall away” (Matthew 26:31, emphasis added). The other 11 disciples may not have sold Jesus for 30 pieces of silver (as Judas did), but none of them would go all the way with Jesus. Each of them had a price whereby they would walk away from Jesus. And a price is a price.
The question that Jesus presents to his disciples is ours as well: “What is your price? Look into your hearts and ask.”
I haven’t always answered this question well. For instance, when I lived overseas, we had a Bible distribution project go really wrong. The police captured four of the national believers and put them in prison. Meanwhile, an agitated mob found and burned their car, demanding that the police release these men. There wasn’t any direct proof that I was connected with these believers, but my supervisor put me under house arrest as a precaution. I thought that at any moment the mob might come for me.
I wish I could say that my response was one of faith and courage. It wasn’t. That was a dark and lonely time for me, and I found myself ready to walk away from the mission altogether. I learned that it’s one thing to say you’re willing to give up your life for Jesus; it’s quite another when you think someone is about to take you up on that offer. You see, I had found my price. Thankfully, God used this low point to begin a time of rebuilding in my life. But at the moment, I was asking what Peter, James, and John had asked that fateful night: “It’s not me, Lord … is it?”
What is your price? Maybe you downplay your commitment to Jesus in front of your friends because you don’t want them to mock you. Maybe God has told you go somewhere—or told your kids to go somewhere—and you’re resisting him. Maybe he is calling you to put him first in your finances, but you “just aren’t ready” to make those changes. Maybe it is simply committing to the church—finally stepping up to become a member and join a serving team.
Sure, you’re “committed” to Jesus. But your commitment to Jesus stops at the point of inconvenience. Take a hard look at that point, because that’s your price. That’s where your commitment to Jesus stops and you sell him out.
So let this sink in: Judas represents you. No, you probably haven’t done what he did. But that’s only because you weren’t put in the same situation. The stuff in our hearts is the same. Left to our own devices, we betray Jesus as naturally as breathing.
Within 24 hours of sharing his last meal with his disciples, every one of Jesus’ disciples would abandon him. And yet he would die for them anyway. When his disciples sold Jesus out for their own safety, he offered himself up as a sacrifice without price. When they were faithless, he remained faithful.
If there’s hope for the disciples, there’s hope, praise God, for me. When I betrayed Jesus, he could have walked away. He had every right. Instead, he walked up the Calvary hill and bore my sins on the cross. We are not saved because of how committed we are to Jesus—who among us can pass that test?—but because of how committed he was to us.
