The Table, the Garden, and the Kiss
The most crucial battle ever fought was in Gethsemane
The Dust Had Barely Settled
The roar of the crowd in the streets had faded.
The coins had stopped rolling in the dirt.
And the air in the temple had gone quiet.
Jesus had flipped more than tables.
He had flipped expectations.
He had exposed a corrupt system and made room for the outcasts.
After everything He had felt and done,
after receiving praise, weeping, cleansing, healing…
He had poured out so much human energy in just a few days.
His last days on Earth.
He now draws closer to those in his inner circle, namely, his disciples.
He had made preparations to share in the Passover with them.
“He sent two of His disciples, and said to them, ‘Go into the city, and a man will meet you carrying a pitcher of water; follow him.’”
—Mark 14:13 (NASB95)
The humanity of Jesus, desiring to share in one last sacred ritual together…
Marking the final Passover that would ever be needed for the covering of sin
before Jesus offered His life.
This wasn’t just going through the motions.
It was an intimate act of communion.
This is Article 3 in a 7-part series on the last week of Jesus’ life. If you missed the lead-in article that is the background to this reflection, you can read it here:
The Unbearable Weight of Perfection: Wrestling with Jesus' Humanity
Here are the articles:
1 - Welcomed With Palms, Left with Silence
2 - Righteous Fire in a Holy Place
4 - Condemned By Cowards
5 - The Sky Went Dark When He Bowed His Head
6 - The Veil Was Torn, The Earth Trembled, and the Grave Was Silent
7 - Before the Stone Was Rolled Away
*Note: there will be some details I can’t fit into this article, without turning into a book, but I hope to do justice to this crucial point in humanity’s history
The Table Was Set
Somewhere above the busy streets of Jerusalem, the upper room had been prepared.
Peter and John had made the arrangements.
The unleavened bread had been secured.
The lamb had been roasted.
The wine had been poured.
And the dust of the temple courts was still fresh on their feet.
I wonder if they felt the shift in the air as Jesus entered.
Maybe they were still catching their breath,
still processing the intense whirlwind of the days before.
But now… I imagine He was calm.
Not withdrawn. Not cold.
But present—in that way Jesus always was.
He sat down at the table, surrounded by friends who didn’t fully understand what was coming.
And still, He loved them.
“I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer.”
—Luke 22:15 (NASB95)
He Took Bread in His Hands
“Having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end.” —John 13:1 (NASB95)
The same hands that had touched lepers.
The same hands that had lifted children,
Broken loaves,
Calmed seas,
Commanded a whip …
And now, those hands took bread… and broke it.
Establishing a new ritual.
A new covenant.
A new Exodus.
“This is My body, which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.” —Luke 22:19 (NASB95)
And the bread?
It wasn’t just any bread.
It was matzah—unleavened.
Baked quickly.
To keep it from rising, it was pierced.
To bake evenly, it was striped.
“By His stripes we are healed.” —Isaiah 53:5
They didn’t understand the symbolism yet.
But even the bread was prophesying.
The body of the Lamb would soon be pierced.
The wrath of judgment would leave its stripes.
And in His hands… that bread was already telling the truth.
He poured the wine
“This cup, which is poured out for you,
is the new covenant in My blood.” —Luke 22:20 (NASB95)
I can almost see the disciples exchange glances.
Trying to grasp what He meant.
They’d heard Him speak of His death before, but not like this.
Trying to feel the weight behind His words.
This wasn’t just tradition.
It wasn’t just the annual remembering of deliverance from Egypt.
This was a new Exodus.
A new Lamb, about to be offered.
And a new covenant, sealed in blood.
The Cups of the Passover
In a traditional Passover meal, there were four cups of wine.
Each one symbolized a promise from God in Exodus 6:
“I will bring you out…”
“I will deliver you…”
“I will redeem you…”
“I will take you as My own.”
The third cup—the Cup of Redemption—was lifted after the meal.
That’s the cup Jesus redefined.
“This is My blood… poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”
No longer a symbol of Egypt’s escape.
Now, a symbol of sin’s atonement.
And then… He doesn’t drink the fourth.
Because the final promise—“I will take you as My own”—
is still to come.
“I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until I drink it new with you in My Father’s kingdom.” —Matthew 26:29
The last cup—the Cup of Praise, of Restoration—
is still on the table.
Waiting for the wedding supper of the Lamb.
He Got Up from the Table
The bread had been broken.
The wine had been poured.
The room should have been filled with reverence.
But Jesus wasn’t done yet.
“Jesus… got up from supper, and laid His outer garments aside;
and He took a towel and tied it around Himself.”
—John 13:4 (NASB95)
The King of heaven
The same one who had just overturned the temple,
Who would soon conquer death
now wrapped Himself in a servant’s towel.
Not in armor. In a towel.
He poured water into a basin.
He knelt down.
And He began to wash their feet.
One by one.
Disciple by disciple.
Dust-covered. Calloused. Ordinary.
Feet that had walked with Him.
Feet that would soon run from Him.
The Hands That Would Be Pierced… Washed Them First
He knew what they would do.
He knew Judas would betray Him.
He knew Peter would deny Him.
He knew the others would scatter.
And still—He washed.
He took each foot into His hands…
The same hands that would be pierced within hours.
There was no shame in Him.
No bitterness.
Just quiet, sacrificial love.
“So He poured water into the basin, and began washing the disciples’ feet…”
—John 13:5
Peter’s Protest. Jesus’ Reversal.
Peter couldn’t bear it.
“Lord, do You wash my feet?”
—John 13:6
You can hear the discomfort. The reversal of roles.
This wasn’t how the story was supposed to go.
Lord. As a lowly servant.
Jesus replied:
“What I am doing you do not realize now, but you will understand later.”
—John 13:7
Peter, still clinging to his pride, says:
“You shall never wash my feet!”
And Jesus gently, but firmly answers:
“If I do not wash you, you have no place with Me.”
—John 13:8
I Understand Peter Now
I used to read Peter’s protest and think he was overreacting.
But I get it now.
I’ve felt the same internal distress.
That ache of knowing how deeply sinful I am,
and the weight of knowing that Jesus came so low… to save me.
“You shall never wash my feet!”
It wasn’t arrogance.
It was reverence.
He couldn’t stand the thought of his LORD
Whose perfection so deeply contrasted his sinful nature…
Bowing low.
In the past, I read it as Jesus scolding Peter.
But really, he was teaching Peter a crucial lesson.
He simply said:
“If I do not wash you, you have no part with Me.”
Because this wasn’t just about hygiene.
This was about communion.
About being made clean from the inside out.
The Servant King Set the Compass
When He finished, He stood and looked at them.
“Do you understand what I have done for you?”
—John 13:12
He had flipped the expectations once more.
Not just of power, but of holiness.
“If I, the Lord and the Teacher, washed your feet,
you also ought to wash one another’s feet.”
—John 13:14
This wasn’t about appearing humble.
This was about becoming humble.
Not to be prideful in our humility,
but to serve others in the same spirit Jesus served them.
Not to win applause.
But to live in alignment with the One
who put a towel over His shoulders
just days before He would carry a cross.
And Then… Judas Left
The room had been filled with bread, wine, and water.
Now it was heavy with silence.
Jesus had just said the unthinkable:
“Truly, truly I say to you, one of you will betray Me.”
—John 13:21 (NASB95)
The disciples looked at one another, confused.
Not indignant.
Not accusatory.
“is it I?”
Just… Confused.
Because none of them saw it coming.
It’s so easy for me to read it in hindsight.
But Jesus treated Judas with such grace that none of his disciples knew.
Judas, Whom Jesus Loved
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about Judas.
Not just the betrayal.
But the years that came before it.
He had walked with Jesus.
He had seen the miracles.
He had eaten from the multiplied loaves.
He had laughed beside the fire.
He had heard the parables firsthand, from the mouth of God’s Son.
And still… he sold Him.
For silver.
For power.
For reasons we may never fully understand.
But here’s what deeply humbles me:
Jesus knew.
And He let him stay.
Jesus washed his feet.
He handed him bread.
He called him “friend.”
He didn’t expose him at the table.
He didn’t humiliate him.
He simply said:
“What you are going to do, do quickly.”
—John 13:27 (NASB95)
And Judas got up and left.
“And it was night.”
—John 13:30
The darkness in his heart, he took into the night.
The darkness that blinded Judas.
Before the Garden… He Prayed for Us
Now that Judas had left, Jesus knew his time was drawing to a close.
The darkness had left.
And now Jesus prayed.
Before the trees.
Before the blood.
Before the soldiers with torches.
Jesus prayed.
Not just for strength.
Not just for courage.
He prayed for His friends.
For those he would Redeem through his death.
He prayed for us.
“I am not asking on behalf of the world,
but on behalf of those whom You have given Me…” —John 17:9
He prayed that we would be kept.
That we would be one.
That we would be sanctified in truth.
That we would one day be with Him in glory.
“I desire that they also… may be with Me where I am,
so that they may see My glory…” —John 17:24
This was such a crucial prayer of intercession.
Jesus was keeping fresh in his mind
all who would be depending on him
To finish his mission.
Not just those with him that night.
But to this very day.
Even with betrayal and the cross just ahead…
He interceded.
The Garden Was Heavy
After Judas left, they sang a hymn.
(Most scholars and historians agree this would have been part of the Hallel—Psalms 115 through 118—traditionally sung at the close of the Passover meal.
These psalms were rich with themes of deliverance, sacrifice, and covenant.
So as they stood from the table, Jesus likely sang words like… “The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone,” and “I shall not die, but live.”)
“The Lord is my strength and my song…”
“This is the day the Lord has made…”
“I shall not die, but live…”
Can you imagine singing those lines—just hours before nails and thorns?
Every word, a preparation, taking him deeper and deeper into the will of God.
And then, Jesus led them out of the city.
“Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane,
and He told the disciples, ‘Sit here while I go over there and pray.’” —Matthew 26:36
Gethsemane. The grove of olives.
The place where olives were broken and crushed
For the oil to be poured out.
The others stayed behind,
but He took Peter, James, and John a little farther.
And then… He collapsed.
“My soul is deeply grieved, to the point of death…” —Matthew 26:38
I can read those words…
but I can hardly grasp their gravity.
He Fell On His Face
The battle was here, in the garden.
He didn’t gently kneel.
He fell down, prostrate.
Face in the dirt.
Sweat and blood.
“And He went a little beyond them, and fell on His face and prayed, saying,
‘My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me;
yet not as I will, but as You will.’”
—Matthew 26:39 (NASB95)
This wasn’t performance.
This wasn’t symbolic.
This was the weight of it crushing Him.
“And being in agony, He was praying very fervently;
and His sweat became like drops of blood…” —Luke 22:44 (NASB95)
He knew what was coming.
The torture.
The isolation.
The sin of the world pressing down on Him.
And still, He stayed.
Still, He surrendered.
Being crushed under the weight of humanity’s sin.
That he might be poured out.
Three Prayers. One Surrender.
The first time, He asked if the cup could pass.
“My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me;
yet not as I will, but as You will.”
—Matthew 26:39 (NASB95)
The second, He accepted that it would not.
“My Father, if this cup cannot pass away unless I drink from it,
Your will be done.”
—Matthew 26:42 (NASB95)The third… He simply submitted.
“He left them again, and went away and prayed a third time,
saying the same thing once more.”
—Matthew 26:44 (NASB95)
Each prayer peeled back the last layer of resistance.
Until there was nothing left but obedience and blood.
And Then… the Father Responded
Not with thunder.
Not with rescue.
But with presence.
“Now an angel from heaven appeared to Him, strengthening Him.” —Luke 22:43
The angel didn’t come to change the outcome…
He came to uphold the Son who had already said YES.
This was quite a realization when it hit me.
Heaven did not intervene before surrender.
Only after.
There could be NOTHING that would taint the absolute obedience…
the total surrender.
Where Are My Friends?
He came back to them… three times.
And each time… they were asleep.
The ones who said they’d die with Him…
couldn’t stay awake with Him.
I wonder if He looked at them in love… and heartbreak.
“So, you men could not keep watch with Me for one hour?” —Matthew 26:40 (NASB95)
It wasn’t just a disappointment.
It was a preview of what was coming.
This tells you the sheer exhaustion.
If his disciples fell asleep from exhaustion…
How physically exhausted was Jesus?
And yet, this was only the beginning.
And Then… They Came
The stillness of the garden broke.
Not with thunder, but with footsteps.
Torches.
Voices.
Steel in the night air.
And Judas at the front.
“While He was still speaking, behold, Judas, one of the twelve, came up
accompanied by a large crowd with swords and clubs…” —Matthew 26:47 (NASB95)
He had led them here.
He knew he would find Jesus here.
Judas, the one who had eaten with Him.
Walked with Him.
Been trusted with the money bag.
Been trusted with His presence.
And now—he came with a kiss.
“Now he who was betraying Him gave them a sign, saying,
‘Whomever I kiss, He is the one; arrest Him.’” —Matthew 26:48
“And immediately Judas came up to Jesus and said, ‘Greetings, Rabbi!’
and kissed Him.” —Matthew 26:49
Jesus Let Him Come Close
He could’ve stopped him.
He could’ve called down fire.
He could’ve spoken a word—and the whole cohort would’ve fallen.
In fact… they did.
“Whom do you seek?”
“Jesus of Nazareth.”
“I AM.”
And they drew back and fell to the ground. —John 18:6
Just a glimpse of His divine authority—
before He gave Himself away.
And I believe it was necessary.
That they would be made aware of His power in that moment.
So that it would be abundantly clear—
This was voluntary.
Not weakness.
Not Fear.
Not surprise.
But submission and mercy,
from the One who could have crushed them.
And that makes me bow in awe, in my spirit.
He didn’t flee.
He didn’t resist.
He looked into the eyes of the one who betrayed Him…
and still called him:
“Friend.” —Matthew 26:50
I’ve often wondered:
if it hadn’t been Judas, would someone else have betrayed Him?
Maybe. But I believe it had to be someone close.
Because Jesus didn’t just come to die—
He came to suffer every sorrow we carry.
And betrayal… that’s not just pain.
That’s trust shattered.
So the one who broke that trust had to be someone who had once been welcomed.
Chosen. Included.
Jesus needed to feel the sting of being betrayed by someone He loved—
not for strategy,
but for empathy.
So that even our deepest relational wounds
could be healed by the One who’s been there too.
So, in this betrayal, Jesus didn’t recoil.
Didn’t curse.
Didn’t even call him out in front of the crowd.
He met betrayal with sorrow.
He met violence with surrender.
And I believe He said “friend”
so that even after the betrayal,
Judas might know it was still possible to be forgiven.
We want to condemn Judas.
But Jesus—even in that moment—
wanted to keep the door open.
He wanted him to know:
You haven’t gone too far.
Not yet.
The Hour Had Come
The disciples scrambled.
Peter drew a sword—striking the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear.
And still—Jesus healed.
“Put your sword back into its place…
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?”
—Matthew 26:52–53 (NASB95)
But He wouldn’t.
Because this was the moment.
The surrender wasn’t forced—it was chosen.
He had already said yes in the garden.
He had already let Himself be kissed by betrayal.
He had already shown power—and withheld it.
Now…
He lets Himself be taken.
And His friends—
the ones who had broken bread with Him,
walked with Him,
sworn to stand beside Him—
Fled.
“Then all the disciples left Him and fled.” —Matthew 26:56
The Lamb stood alone.
My Closing Thought
He had already given His “yes” in the garden.
So when they came with clubs and torches,
He stood.
Unarmed. Unresisting. Unshaken.
They arrested the only truly innocent man who ever lived.
And His friends—the ones who had been closest—
disappeared into the dark.
Coming Next
In the next article, we follow Jesus from garden to courtroom.
He will be spit on.
Mocked.
Condemned by cowards in robes of power.
And yet, He will not flinch.
Because the Lamb is no longer blending in the crowd—
He is now walking straight toward the altar.
And the altar wasn’t in the temple.
It was a Roman cross.
And the fire… was love that would fully consume him
to make his sacrifice complete.
Need to read and meditate on these things over and over - to begin to truly absorb the magnitude of what took place, and how personal it is to me. Thank you, Jonathan.