“For he was numbered among us and was allotted his share in this ministry.” (Acts 1:17)

“Treachery” is a ghastly word. It conjures up images of despicable actions with villainous intent. Judas comes quickly to mind. With a kiss reserved for friendship, he pressed his lips against the cheek of Jesus and places his evil mark on the Savior of the world. Before the soldiers’ fists or the flogger’s whips could leave their brutal scars, Judas left his.

The Lord could have made it to Calvary without the Judas detour. It would have been easy for the Roman soldiers to devise a way to capture the Nazarene without the betrayer’s guided tour.

Originally, Jesus allowed Judas near when he called him as a disciple, and kept him close to his side for three significant years of earthly ministry. But, why would Jesus have allowed this deceitful person in his life?

For our sakes. By experiencing the agony of betrayal, Jesus incorporated our pain as his own. Each time a parent walks out the door, never to return for a goodnight kiss, Jesus understands that child’s devastation. When a mate makes a mockery of the wedding vows, the Lord knows intimately the raw wound left behind. Tragically, when our best friend turns villain, Christ completely relates to that gut-­wrenching stab.

Before he stumbled down the Via Dolorosa, the Lord was lacerated by a treacherous intent to harm. When you conclude that no one could possibly understand your desperate ache, think again. The Savior’s blood was spilt after his perfect heart was broken in two.

Elizabeth A. Mitchell