The Sovereign and the Serpent at Supper
Introduction: The Divine Script
We have come to the final evening. The air in Jerusalem is thick with expectation, with the smell of roasting lambs, and with a spiritual tension that could be cut with a knife. For the disciples, this is the Passover, the annual remembrance of God's mighty deliverance of Israel from Egypt. They are thinking about history. They are thinking about a meal. They are thinking about logistics. But Jesus is thinking about cosmology. He is not simply observing history; He is fulfilling it. He is not just a participant in the meal; He is the meal. And He is not a victim of circumstances; He is the sovereign author of them.
Our modern, sentimental age wants to read this scene as a tragedy. They see Jesus as a good man, a noble teacher, cornered by events beyond His control, betrayed by a friend He trusted too much. But this is to fundamentally misunderstand everything. This is not a tragedy; it is an enthronement. Jesus is not a victim; He is a king, moving His own chess pieces to their appointed squares. The events of this night are not a chaotic spiral into darkness, but the meticulous execution of a divine script, written in eternity past. God is sovereign, and the cross was not plan B.
In this passage, we see this absolute sovereignty on full display. We see it in the mundane preparations for the meal, and we see it in the horrific revelation of betrayal. At the same time, we see the absolute responsibility of man. The serpent is at the table, and he is not a puppet. He is a willing traitor, and his damnation is entirely his own. Here, at the covenant meal, these two foundational truths of our faith, divine sovereignty and human responsibility, sit side-by-side, and they do not contradict. They form the very foundation of the gospel.
The Text
Now on the first day of Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus, saying, "Where do You want us to prepare for You to eat the Passover?" And He said, "Go into the city to a certain man, and say to him, 'The Teacher says, "My time is near; I am keeping the Passover at your house with My disciples."'" And the disciples did as Jesus had directed them; and they prepared the Passover. Now when evening came, Jesus was reclining at the table with the twelve disciples. And as they were eating, He said, "Truly I say to you that one of you will betray Me." And being deeply grieved, they each one began to say to Him, "Surely not I, Lord?" And He answered and said, "He who dipped his hand with Me in the bowl is the one who will betray Me. The Son of Man is going, just as it is written of Him; but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been good for that man if he had not been born." And Judas, who was betraying Him, answered and said, "Surely not I, Rabbi?" Jesus said to him, "You yourself said it."
(Matthew 26:17-25 LSB)
The Sovereign Reservation (vv. 17-19)
We begin with the disciples' logistical question.
"Now on the first day of Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus, saying, 'Where do You want us to prepare for You to eat the Passover?' And He said, 'Go into the city to a certain man, and say to him, "The Teacher says, 'My time is near; I am keeping the Passover at your house with My disciples.'" ' And the disciples did as Jesus had directed them; and they prepared the Passover." (Matthew 26:17-19)
The disciples are thinking practically. Jerusalem is overflowing with pilgrims. Finding a room would be a difficult task. So they ask a sensible question: "Where?" But Jesus' answer reveals that this is not a matter of luck or frantic searching. He has everything arranged. He gives them precise, peculiar instructions. Go into the city, find a specific man, and deliver a coded message.
The message itself is a declaration of absolute authority: "The Teacher says, 'My time is near...'" Notice He does not ask for permission. He announces His intention. This is a royal requisition. The owner of the house is not named, because he is irrelevant. What matters is that he has been prepared by the Lord of history for this very moment. Jesus is not just the guest of honor; He is the sovereign host of the entire affair. He is the one who prepared the lamb from the foundation of the world, and He is the one who prepared the room in Jerusalem.
The phrase "My time is near" is crucial. The word for time here is kairos, which means the appointed, opportune, decisive moment. This is not just about the clock ticking. This is the moment toward which all of redemptive history has been pointing. The Passover in Egypt was a dress rehearsal. Every lamb sacrificed since was a shadow. Now, the substance has arrived, and the kairos, the appointed time of God, is here. The disciples obey without question, and everything is just as Jesus said it would be. This is a small, quiet miracle that demonstrates the total, meticulous control Christ has over every detail of His passion. Nothing is left to chance.
The Shattered Fellowship (vv. 20-22)
The scene shifts to the upper room, a picture of covenant intimacy that is about to be broken.
"Now when evening came, Jesus was reclining at the table with the twelve disciples. And as they were eating, He said, 'Truly I say to you that one of you will betray Me.' And being deeply grieved, they each one began to say to Him, 'Surely not I, Lord?'" (Matthew 26:20-22)
They are reclining at the table. This posture signifies rest, friendship, and deep fellowship. This is the inner circle. These are the men He has poured His life into for three years. And into this picture of peace, Jesus drops a bomb. "Truly I say to you that one of you will betray Me." He does not whisper it. He announces it to the table. He brings the secret sin into the light, right in the middle of the covenant meal.
Why does He do this? He does it to show, once again, that He is not being caught by surprise. He knows His enemy. He knows the heart of the traitor sitting beside Him. He is demonstrating to the other eleven, and to us, that He is walking to the cross with His eyes wide open. He is not a martyr for a failed cause; He is a willing sacrifice, fully aware of the cost.
The reaction of the eleven is telling and commendable. They are "deeply grieved." And their grief drives them not to point fingers at each other, but to look inward. "Surely not I, Lord?" Each one asks it. This is the response of a humble heart that knows its own weakness. They know the treachery that lurks in the human heart. They don't say, "I would never do that!" They ask, in horrified disbelief, "Is it me?" They acknowledge Him as Lord, Kurios, submitting to His knowledge and authority. This is the proper posture of a disciple. Only one man at the table is silent, calculating his next move.
Sovereignty, Woe, and Responsibility (vv. 23-25)
Jesus now clarifies the identity of the betrayer, and in doing so, He gives us one of the most profound and difficult theological statements in the Bible.
"He who dipped his hand with Me in the bowl is the one who will betray Me. The Son of Man is going, just as it is written of Him; but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been good for that man if he had not been born." (Matthew 26:23-24)
Dipping a hand into the same bowl was an act of intimacy and friendship in that culture. To share a bowl was to share a bond. Jesus is highlighting the sheer wickedness of the betrayal. It is a violation of covenant friendship. It is the fulfillment of Psalm 41:9: "Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me."
Then comes the great paradox. "The Son of Man is going, just as it is written of Him." The cross is not an accident. It is the fulfillment of prophecy. It is the unalterable plan of God, determined before the foundation of the world. God ordained this. But in the very next breath, Jesus says, "but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed!" God's sovereign decree does not, for one second, remove the guilt of the sinner. Judas is not a helpless pawn. He is a responsible moral agent who makes a wicked choice, and the woe, the divine curse, falls squarely on him. God's ordination and Judas's damnation are not in conflict. God uses Judas's sin for His glorious purpose of redemption, and He justly punishes Judas for that very same sin. If you cannot hold these two truths together in your mind, you will wreck your theology on the rocks of either fatalism or human autonomy.
The final phrase is bone-chilling: "It would have been good for that man if he had not been born." This is not hyperbole. This is the calm, judicial assessment of the Judge of all the earth. This statement single-handedly demolishes any notion of universalism or annihilationism. There is a state of eternal punishment so horrific that non-existence would be preferable. This is the reality of Hell, spoken by the one who is Love Himself. We must not blunt the edge of this warning.
Finally, the serpent speaks.
"And Judas, who was betraying Him, answered and said, 'Surely not I, Rabbi?' Jesus said to him, 'You yourself said it.'" (Matthew 26:25)
After everyone else has asked, Judas, to keep up his charade, must ask as well. But notice the difference. The others said, "Lord?" Judas says, "Rabbi?" Teacher. It is a title of respect, but it falls short of the confession of deity and sovereignty contained in "Lord." It is a subtle tell, a crack in the mask. He is a follower of the teacher, but not a servant of the Lord. And with breathtaking hypocrisy, he asks the question to which he already knows the answer.
Jesus' response is direct and devastating. "You yourself said it." In the Greek, it is emphatic. He makes Judas pronounce his own guilt. The game is up. Jesus has unmasked him, not yet to the whole room, but to Judas himself. The light has exposed the darkness, and the darkness has no reply.
Conclusion: The Lamb on the Throne
So what do we take from this dark and glorious scene? Three things.
First, we must be staggered by the absolute sovereignty of God. Your life is not a series of random accidents. The darkest evils, the most painful betrayals, are all woven into the perfect tapestry of God's plan for His glory and for the good of His people. The cross looked like the ultimate defeat, the moment God lost control. But we see here that it was the ultimate display of His control. Our God is never frantic. He is never surprised. He is on the throne.
Second, we must tremble before the reality of human responsibility and the danger of hypocrisy. Judas was not an outsider. He was in the inner circle. He saw the miracles. He heard the sermons. He ate at the table. But his heart was full of greed and unbelief. It is possible to be in the church, to look the part, to say the right words, and to be a son of perdition. This is why the disciples' question must be our own: "Surely not I, Lord?" This is not a question of morbid introspection, but one of humble dependence. It drives us to Christ, clinging to Him as our only hope against the treachery of our own hearts.
Finally, we see that this Passover meal is the last of its kind. Jesus, the true Passover Lamb, is about to be sacrificed. His blood, shed by the hands of wicked men according to the determinate counsel of God, will be the foundation of a New Covenant. This meal gives way to the Lord's Supper. And when we come to that table, we come remembering this night. We come remembering that our salvation was purchased at the cost of infinite betrayal and infinite love, all according to a perfect, sovereign plan. And we come with that humble prayer on our lips, "Lord, it is only by your grace that it is not I."