“The evening meal was in progress, and the devil had already prompted Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power… so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist.” —John 13:2–4 (NIV)
One of the most overlooked yet deeply moving details of the Last Supper is this: Judas was there. He didn’t leave before the bread was broken. He didn’t excuse himself before the cup was shared. He sat, ate, drank—and even had his feet washed—by the One he was preparing to betray.
Why is that important?
Because it reveals something stunning about Jesus. He knew. John tells us plainly—Jesus knew what Judas was planning. And yet He still offered him bread. Still served him the cup. Still knelt and washed his feet like a servant. Jesus didn’t remove Judas from the table; He shared it with him.
This detail matters because it reveals the character of Christ in a way few moments can. Jesus’ love wasn’t conditional. His kindness wasn’t reserved only for the faithful. He didn’t draw boundaries around grace. He gave it even to the one who would walk out into the night and sell Him for silver.
It’s easy to talk about loving our enemies. It’s another thing to serve them dinner and wash their feet.
This is the kind of love Jesus models—and calls us into. It’s not soft or naïve. It’s fiercely humble, painfully sacrificial, and rooted in a trust that God’s love is stronger than betrayal. When Jesus said, “Love your enemies,” He wasn’t speaking in the abstract. He was speaking as someone who had done exactly that—with water basin and bread in hand.
For those who’ve ever felt unworthy at the table, Judas’s presence is a reminder: Jesus invites the undeserving. For those struggling to forgive, it’s a call to extend grace that doesn’t come naturally. And for all of us, it’s a glimpse into the heart of the Savior—who offers love even when He knows it won’t be returned.
Prayer:
Lord Jesus, your love humbles me. You welcomed the betrayer to your table and still offered him grace. Teach me to love like that. When I’m tempted to withhold kindness or forgiveness, remind me of the towel around your waist and the bread in your hand. Thank you for inviting even me to your table. Amen.
