Commentary - Matthew 26:47-56

Bird's-eye view

In this momentous passage, the eternal counsels of God and the wicked hands of men converge in the darkness of a garden. Here, the Son of God, having just finished His agonizing prayer of submission to the Father's will, is betrayed with a kiss, the very sign of affection and loyalty. This is not a scene of chaos overpowering order; it is a scene of profound, divine order working through human chaos. Every action, from Judas's treachery to Peter's misguided zeal with the sword to the disciples' cowardly flight, unfolds precisely as the Scriptures foretold. Jesus is not a helpless victim; He is the sovereign Lord, orchestrating the events of His own sacrifice. He rebukes Peter's sword not because He lacks power, for legions of angels are at His disposal, but because the cup His Father has given Him must be drunk. The arrest of Jesus is the hinge point where the hypocrisy of the religious leaders, the fickleness of human loyalty, and the absolute sovereignty of God are all put on stark display, setting the stage for the cross, which is the central event in all of human history.

This is the King willingly being taken captive to win our freedom. The swords and clubs of the mob are impotent against a will that has already surrendered to a divine purpose. The entire event is a calculated fulfillment of prophecy, a divine necessity. Jesus makes it clear that His capture is not a failure of His power but a fulfillment of His mission. The disciples scatter, proving that salvation cannot rest on the strength of men, but only on the one man who stands firm even as He is bound.

Outline

Context In Matthew

This passage immediately follows Jesus' intense prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane (Matt 26:36-46), where He wrestled in His humanity with the horror of the cross and ultimately submitted to the Father's will, saying "not as I will, but as you will." The disciples, whom He had asked to watch and pray, had repeatedly fallen asleep, demonstrating their weakness in the face of the coming trial. The arrest scene is therefore the direct consequence of the Father's will and the Son's submission. It is the beginning of the "hour" Jesus had spoken of. It flows directly from the Last Supper, where Jesus identified Judas as the betrayer, and it sets in motion the sequence of illegal trials, condemnation, and crucifixion that will occupy the next chapters of Matthew's gospel. This is the climax of the conflict between Jesus and the religious authorities of Jerusalem that has been building throughout the entire book.

Key Issues

The Kiss and the Sword

Two symbols dominate this scene: a kiss and a sword. Both are perverted. The kiss, a sign of intimate friendship and respect, is twisted into a signal for betrayal. The sword, an instrument of worldly power and violence, is drawn in a misguided attempt to defend the one whose kingdom is not of this world. Judas uses the language of love to accomplish an act of profound hatred. Peter uses the tools of coercion to defend the one who conquers through sacrifice.

In this, we see the two fundamental ways men get the kingdom of God wrong. The first is through hypocritical religion, which uses the outward forms of affection for God to serve its own selfish ends. This is the way of Judas. The second is through carnal zeal, which tries to advance God's spiritual kingdom using the world's methods of force and power. This is the way of Peter. Jesus rejects both. He exposes the traitor's kiss with a simple, searching question, and He commands the zealous disciple to put away his sword. The kingdom will not be advanced by treachery, nor will it be defended by violence. It will be established through the willing, sacrificial death of the King, a death that fulfills all the Scriptures.

Verse by Verse Commentary

47 And while He was still speaking, behold, Judas, one of the twelve, came up, and with him was a large crowd with swords and clubs, who came from the chief priests and elders of the people.

The timing is precise. Jesus is still speaking to His sleepy disciples, warning them that the betrayer is at hand, and at that very moment, he appears. Matthew emphasizes that Judas is one of the twelve. This is not an outside enemy; the treason comes from within the inner circle, which makes it all the more heinous. The crowd is not a Roman cohort but a temple-sanctioned mob, a posse sent by the chief priests and elders. These are the religious leaders, the guardians of the law, who now resort to thuggery in the dead of night. They come with swords and clubs, instruments of violence, as though they were hunting a dangerous revolutionary, not arresting a man who had been teaching peacefully in their temple courts just days before.

48-49 Now he who was betraying Him gave them a sign, saying, “Whomever I kiss, He is the one; seize Him.” And immediately Judas went to Jesus and said, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and kissed Him.

The pre-arranged sign is one of grotesque intimacy. A kiss was the customary greeting for a respected teacher, a sign of affection and loyalty. Judas weaponizes this gesture of friendship. He turns the symbol of peace into a signal for violence. His greeting, "Greetings, Rabbi!" is the height of hypocrisy. He still uses the title of respect while in the very act of handing his master over to be killed. The word for "kissed" here can carry the sense of kissing fervently or repeatedly, which only deepens the depravity of the act. He is putting on a show for the mob, a nauseating display of false devotion.

50 And Jesus said to him, “Friend, do what you have come for.” Then they came and laid hands on Jesus and seized Him.

Jesus' response is remarkable for its calm authority. He calls Judas "Friend" or "Companion." This is not sarcasm. It is a final, piercing address that highlights the profound personal relationship that Judas is violating. It is a word heavy with the sorrow of broken fellowship. Then He says, "do what you have come for." This is not permission; it is a command. It demonstrates that Jesus is in complete control of the situation. He is not being taken; He is giving Himself over. At this word, the mob, which had perhaps hesitated in the face of such authority, finally moves in. They lay hands on Him, a fulfillment of what Jesus had been predicting all along.

51 And behold, one of those who were with Jesus stretched out his hand and drew out his sword and struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his ear.

In the confusion, one of the disciples reacts with carnal force. John's gospel tells us it was Peter, and the slave's name was Malchus. Peter, who had just boasted that he would die for Jesus, now tries to make good on his promise with a sword. It was a clumsy but earnest attempt at loyalty. He was likely aiming for the man's head, but in the dark, he only manages to slice off an ear. This is the church militant acting in the flesh. It is an attempt to defend the Prince of Peace with the weapons of war, a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of Christ's kingdom and the battle He came to fight.

52 Then Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place; for all those who take up the sword shall perish by the sword.

Jesus immediately rebukes this misplaced zeal. He commands Peter to sheathe his weapon. The reason He gives is a timeless principle: the cycle of violence begets violence. Those who live by the sword, who trust in carnal weapons to achieve their ends, will ultimately be destroyed by them. This is not absolute pacifism; Jesus is not forbidding the magistrate's use of the sword for justice. He is forbidding its use for the advancement and defense of His spiritual kingdom. The gospel does not advance at the point of a sword. To fight for Jesus here would be to deny the very purpose for which He came.

53 Or do you think that I cannot appeal to My Father, and He will at once put at My disposal more than twelve legions of angels?

Jesus reveals the true nature of His power. His restraint is not due to weakness. Peter's pathetic sword is not His only defense. If He wanted to, He could summon an overwhelming angelic army. A Roman legion consisted of up to 6,000 soldiers; Jesus speaks of more than twelve legions, a staggering force of over 72,000 angels. One angel had been enough to destroy 185,000 Assyrians. This force could annihilate the mob, the Sanhedrin, and all of Rome in a moment. But this is not the Father's will. Jesus is not a victim being overpowered; He is a king willingly laying down His life.

54 Therefore, how will the Scriptures be fulfilled, which say that it must happen this way?”

This is the central point of the entire passage. The ultimate reason for Jesus' submission is not the swords of the mob or the lack of a better defense. The ultimate reason is the Word of God. The Old Testament Scriptures, from Genesis to Malachi, had prophesied that the Messiah must suffer, be betrayed, and be killed as a sacrifice for sin (e.g., Psalm 41:9; Isaiah 53). For Jesus to fight back or escape would be to contradict the entire plan of salvation that had been written down for centuries. His arrest is a divine necessity. The Word of God must be fulfilled, and Jesus is the ultimate fulfiller of that Word.

55 At that time Jesus said to the crowds, “Have you come out with swords and clubs to arrest Me as you would against a robber? Every day I used to sit in the temple teaching and you did not seize Me.

Having dealt with His disciple, Jesus now turns to address the mob. He exposes their cowardice and hypocrisy. They treat him like a violent criminal, a robber, coming for him in the dark with weapons. Yet just days before, He was teaching publicly in the temple, in their territory. They could have arrested Him then in broad daylight, but they were afraid of the people. Their actions reveal their bad conscience. They know what they are doing is unjust, and so they do it under the cover of darkness.

56 But all this has taken place in order that the Scriptures of the prophets would be fulfilled.” Then all the disciples left Him and fled.

Jesus concludes His statement to the crowd by returning to the ultimate explanation: the fulfillment of Scripture. This is the sovereign will of God in action. Every part of this sordid affair, the betrayal, the cowardly arrest, is woven into God's redemptive plan. And at this final declaration of divine necessity, the reality of the situation crashes down on the disciples. Their leader has been seized, He will not fight, and He says it must be so. Their courage evaporates completely. Matthew records with brutal honesty: all the disciples left Him and fled. The very men who had promised to die with Him a few hours earlier now abandon Him to face His fate alone. This too was a fulfillment of Scripture (Zech 13:7), proving that salvation depends on Christ alone, not on the wavering loyalty of His followers.

Application

This scene in the garden is a potent lesson for the church in every generation. We are constantly tempted to fall into the errors of either Judas or Peter. The temptation of Judas is to maintain an outward form of Christian devotion, to use the language of faith, to even kiss the Son, while our hearts are actually serving our own greed, ambition, or lust for control. It is the temptation of hypocrisy, and it is a damnable sin. We must constantly examine our hearts to ensure that our professed love for Christ is genuine.

The temptation of Peter is more subtle, because it springs from a right desire to defend the Lord. It is the temptation of carnal zeal. We see the world's hostility to Christ and His church, and our first instinct is to draw the sword. This can take many forms: coercive political action, culture wars fought with the world's angry rhetoric, or personal relationships where we try to force righteousness through confrontation and power plays. But Jesus tells us to put the sword away. Our battle is not against flesh and blood, and our weapons are not carnal. We win not by fighting like the world, but by bearing faithful witness, speaking the truth in love, and being willing to suffer for the sake of the gospel. Christ's kingdom advances through the power of the preached Word and the sacrificial lives of His people, not through the swinging of swords.

Ultimately, our security rests not in our ability to avoid betrayal or to fight back, but in the sovereign plan of God, which is always being fulfilled. Even in the darkest moments, when it seems evil is triumphant, the Scriptures are being fulfilled. Christ willingly went to the cross for us, abandoned by all, so that we, who had fled from God in our sin, might be brought near and never be forsaken.