Commentary - Matthew 17:22-23

Bird's-eye view

Coming down from the glorious heights of the Transfiguration, Jesus brings His disciples back down to the bedrock reality of His mission. This passage contains the second major passion prediction in Matthew's gospel, and it is a stark and unvarnished statement of the central facts of our redemption. The glory on the mountain was a preview of the destination, but the path to that glory led directly through the valley of betrayal, murder, and death. Jesus, in His sovereign control, plainly tells His men what is about to happen. He is not a victim of circumstance; He is the Son of Man who is willingly being delivered over to a horrific fate. The core elements are all here: divine necessity, human wickedness, substitutionary death, and triumphant resurrection. The disciples' reaction of deep grief reveals their love for Jesus, but also their profound misunderstanding of the necessity of the cross. They heard the first part, the killing, but the promise of the resurrection did not yet compute. This passage is a necessary dose of hard reality, reminding us that the crown comes only after the cross.

This is the gospel in miniature. It is the announcement that the King will conquer, but that His method of conquest is utterly upside down from the world's perspective. He will conquer by being handed over, by being killed. This is the wisdom of God that the princes of this world could not understand, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. The disciples, still thinking in worldly terms, are grieved by the thought of His death. They had not yet grasped that this very death was the instrument that would dethrone envy, sin, and death itself. Their grief was real, but it was a grief born of a still-veiled understanding. The joy of the resurrection would soon turn that grief into an unshakeable and world-conquering hope.

Outline

Context In Matthew

This brief but potent passage is strategically placed. It immediately follows the Transfiguration (Matt 17:1-8) and the healing of the demon-possessed boy (Matt 17:14-20). On the mountain, Peter, James, and John saw Jesus in His unveiled, celestial glory, conversing with Moses and Elijah. They were given a glimpse of His divine identity and ultimate authority. But as soon as they descend, they are confronted with the reality of a fallen world and the weakness of their own faith. Jesus' instruction here serves to connect the two realities. The glory is real, but the path to entering that glory permanently requires the cross. This is the second time Jesus has explicitly predicted His death and resurrection (the first being in Matt 16:21), and it functions as a constant, central drumbeat in His training of the twelve. He will not allow them to entertain fantasies of a political messiah who avoids suffering. The road to Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets, is now firmly set, and every lesson from here on out must be understood in the shadow of this coming cross.

Key Issues

The Unavoidable Cross

We live in a therapeutic age that prizes comfort and avoids pain at all costs. But the message of Jesus to His closest followers was anything but comfortable. He was preparing them for a collision with the hardest realities of a fallen world: betrayal, injustice, and violent death. And not just anyone's death, but His own. The modern church is always tempted to skip this part and get straight to the resurrection, or to the principles for living, or to the sense of community. But the apostolic gospel is anchored in this brutal event. Paul resolved to know nothing among the Corinthians except "Christ and Him crucified."

Jesus says He "is going to be delivered." This is not an accident. This is not a tragedy that derails the plan. This is the plan. The Greek verb paradidomi carries the sense of being handed over, of being betrayed. It is a divine passive, meaning God is the one ultimately orchestrating this handing over. Yet it is delivered "into the hands of men," who are fully responsible for their wicked actions. This is the great mystery of divine sovereignty and human responsibility, held in perfect tension. God ordained it; men wickedly carried it out. And it was through this very act of profound evil that God accomplished the most profound good imaginable: the salvation of the world. The disciples' grief was understandable, but it was shortsighted. They saw only the loss of their friend and leader; they did not yet see the purchase of their souls.

Verse by Verse Commentary

22 And while they were gathering together in Galilee, Jesus said to them, “The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men;

They are back on home turf, in Galilee, the place where much of His popular ministry had occurred. But the tone is not one of triumphant homecoming. It is a time for sober, private instruction. Jesus gathers them for a crucial lesson. He begins with His favorite self-designation, "the Son of Man." This title, drawn from Daniel 7, is a title of messianic authority and eschatological judgment. The Son of Man is the one who receives an everlasting dominion from the Ancient of Days. But the path to that dominion is what no one expected. This glorious figure "is going to be delivered." The verb tense points to a future certainty. This is not a possibility; it is a divine appointment. He will be handed over, betrayed. And who will receive Him? Not the hands of angels, but "the hands of men." This phrase emphasizes the human agency and the profound humiliation. The Lord of glory is going to be placed at the mercy of His rebellious creatures.

23a and they will kill Him,

Jesus does not soften the blow. He does not use euphemisms. The result of this betrayal will be His execution. The men into whose hands He is delivered will not imprison Him or exile Him; they will kill Him. This is the wages of sin, and He who knew no sin was going to pay those wages in full. The cross was an act of murder. It was the culmination of human envy, hatred, and rebellion against God. The religious leaders, the Roman authorities, the fickle crowd, they were all complicit. They would do their worst, venting the full measure of human wickedness upon the only truly innocent man to ever live.

23b and He will be raised on the third day.”

This clause is just as crucial as the previous one, but it is the part the disciples consistently failed to hear. The murder is not the end of the story. The grave is not the final destination. After the execution comes the resurrection. Jesus states it as a fact, with the same certainty as His death. Notice the specificity: "on the third day." This is not a vague hope of some spiritual afterlife; it is a promise of a bodily resurrection at a specific point in time. This is His vindication. This is the Father's "Amen!" to the Son's "It is finished." Death will do its worst, and it will be swallowed up in victory. The cross is the great battle, but the resurrection is the announcement that the war has been won.

23c And they were deeply grieved.

Their reaction is telling. They were not confused, asking what "raised on the third day" meant, as they do in Mark's account. Here, Matthew simply records their emotional state: deep grief. The news of His impending death completely overshadowed the promise of His resurrection. Their sorrow was a testament to their genuine love for Him. They could not imagine a world without their Master. But their sorrow was also a testament to their spiritual blindness. They were still operating on a framework where the Messiah's death was an unthinkable tragedy, a catastrophic failure. They had not yet understood that it was a necessary triumph. They were grieving what they should have been, in faith, celebrating as the very means of their salvation. Their grief was a natural human reaction, but it was a reaction that the Holy Spirit would soon transform into a bold, joyful, and world-altering proclamation.

Application

This passage forces us to confront the heart of our faith. Do we have a theology that makes room for the cross? I don't mean just a historical acknowledgment of it, but a functional, day-to-day embrace of its necessity. Jesus' path to glory was through suffering, and He tells us that the path of His disciples is the same. "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (Matt 16:24).

We are often like the disciples, deeply grieved by the crosses that God appoints for us. We see the trial, the loss, the betrayal, the pain, and we grieve. This is natural. But we must not stop there. We must, by faith, hear the second half of the sentence: "and he will be raised on the third day." Every cross in the life of a believer is appointed by a sovereign God and is followed by a resurrection of some kind. It might be a resurrection of hope, of character, of new opportunities, and ultimately, it will be our own bodily resurrection on the last day. We must learn to see our sufferings not as tragic interruptions to God's plan, but as the very instruments He is using to conform us to the image of His Son. The world sees a man being handed over to be killed and calls it a tragedy. The Christian sees the Son of Man being handed over to be killed and calls it salvation. And when we see our own small trials in light of that great sacrifice, our grief, while real, can be transformed into a deep and abiding hope.