The Betrayal and Arrest of Christ: Lessons from Mark 14:43-52
We have been working through this Gospel of Mark, and we find ourselves here now at the betrayal and arrest of Christ as we work expositorily through this Gospel. So we are in Mark 14, verses 43 to 52. Mark 14:43 to 52—this is the divinely inspired record of Judas’ betrayal of our Savior.
“And immediately, while he was still speaking, Judas came, one of the Twelve, and with him a crowd with swords and clubs from the chief priests and the scribes and the elders. Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, ‘The one I will kiss is the man; seize him and lead him away under guard.’ And when he came, he went up to him at once and said, ‘Rabbi!’ and he kissed him. They laid hands on him and seized him. But one of those who stood by drew his sword and struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his ear. And Jesus said to them, ‘Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs to capture me? Day after day I was with you in the temple teaching, and you did not seize me. But let the Scriptures be fulfilled.’ And they all left him and fled. And a young man followed him, with nothing but a linen cloth about his body. And they seized him, but he left the linen cloth and ran away naked.”
This is the Word of the Lord. You may be seated.
The Episode of Jesus’s Betrayal
The episode of Jesus’s betrayal through Judas’ deceitful kiss is infamously remembered in history as the “kiss of death.” Where we get that expression unfolds here in our reading of Mark’s account—that even as Jesus was declaring that his betrayer had drawn near, Judas arrived, accompanied by a large crowd armed with swords and clubs. And it’s reasonable to infer that this armed group consisted of a blend of Temple guards under the authority of the Sanhedrin, along with Roman soldiers from the Jerusalem garrison, and they converged upon this pre-arranged location because Jesus’s arrest was not to occur in a public setting, certainly not in broad daylight, but instead in a hidden garden shrouded by the veil of night.
Virtually every element of this episode in the text reveals it as a deed orchestrated by the children of darkness—moral and literal darkness—a profound evil we see unfolding here. And it stands as one of the most heinous and wicked schemes, a conspiracy of treachery so vile that it had to be done at night, far from the light of day. It was emblematic of satanic forces at work in the shadows.
And yet, there is something deeply instructive in this incident. It would be to our detriment to pass over the details of this record of Jesus’ betrayal and arrest. Leading up to this Sunday, we have talked in the past couple of weeks about the grace of our Lord toward his disciples—that He was faithful to them, even though they were so unfaithful to him. He acknowledged their weaknesses. And we talked about how that instructs us, encourages us, instructs us in our charity that we should have to one another as Christians, particularly those who are overtaken in a fault, remembering that our Lord did not forget his chosen apostles, even as they forsook him in a time of his need, and they would become, by repentance, pillars of Christ’s Church.
But there’s also some more solemn lessons here, isn’t there, to learn from this group of wayward disciples, and also from the apostasy of Judas?
Judas’ Betrayal: An Evident False Profession
The first thing we look at here is Judas’ betrayal, which is an evident false profession. I want you to note the incredible paradox of Judas’ betrayal—verses 44 and 45: a false greeting followed by a false act of loving friendship. And it warns us, therefore, of false profession, false profession of faith in Christ, because Judas perverts the customary greeting and gesture of deep honor and affection which would have been common for disciples to give to their rabbi. Of course, first acknowledge them as rabbi and then kiss them. Greek word kataphileo, meaning a loving kiss—not just a fleeting peck, but a display of warmth and esteem. It’s the same word that’s used when the Father kissed the prodigal son (Luke 15:20), or when the woman kissed Jesus’ feet repeatedly in Luke 7:45. It was an honor, a sign of honor and affection; the kiss would have been on the hand or on the cheek. But for Judas, of course, it is a false profession and an inauthentic act of friendship.
And that false profession—and what would have been a sign of friendship—reminds us of what Jesus warned. Some have called it the scariest warning in Scripture, in Matthew 7:21-23, when he said, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.” He goes on to say, “On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness’ or iniquity.”
Now I want you to notice something about what Jesus said there in that scary warning. He did not say, “Many will come to me in that day and say, ‘Lord, did we not do this and that in your name?'” But he said they will come saying, “Lord, Lord”—professing an affection. The word “Lord” repeated—the word of someone’s name repeated in Semitic cultures—that repetition of a name expresses deep intimacy or affection. Remember when Abraham raised the knife over Isaac, and God spoke with urgency and tenderness, “Abraham, Abraham, lay not your hand upon your son”? Or at the burning bush when God called, “Moses, Moses”? Or in the tabernacle, “Samuel, Samuel”? We see Jesus doing it as well when he spoke gently to Martha (Luke 10:41), “Martha, Martha,” or when the ascended Christ confronts Saul on the Damascus Road: “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” When Jesus warns Peter, “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has demanded to sift you as wheat.” Or when Jesus weeps over Jerusalem, he says, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem.” And then, of course, on the cross, Jesus says, “My God, my God.”
You see, the repeated name is a sign of intimacy and affection, and Jesus warns that on the last day, some will appeal to him with the same intimacy: “Lord, Lord, didn’t I preach? Didn’t I teach? Didn’t I do all this?” And Jesus will reply, “I never knew you; depart from me. Please leave. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know your names, you workers of iniquity.”
And the striking application, of course, is that we’re posed with a question, and the question is not, “Do I know Jesus?” but “Does Jesus know me? Do I belong to him?” The question is not, “Have I asked Jesus into my heart?” but “Do I now find myself in Christ,” that beautiful prepositional phrase used repeatedly in the epistles—”am I in Christ, in his life, in his death, and identified with his resurrection?”
And so Jesus did not have to wait until the final judgment to see his warning coming to pass—that some would call upon him with words of intimacy and yet have no true fellowship with him. But it happened right there, in the very hour of his betrayal. Judas steps forward, feigning devotion and with a kiss, addressed him, “Rabbi”—false honor—and yet in that false honor he delivers him to death. Then it’s chilling, isn’t it—the repetition of affection turned into the repetition of treachery. It’s not a confession of love or a kiss of affection, but a kiss of betrayal, a kiss of death, a conspiracy.
The Failure of All the Disciples
We not only see the apostasy of Judas, but we see the failure of all the disciples here, don’t we? It wasn’t just Judas, but the Scripture makes it clear they all left him and fled (verse 50). Mark records that as Jesus was seized, one drew his sword and cut off the servant’s ear. Now Mark leaves the man unnamed—maybe that was in respect of his protégé, Peter. Of course, Mark was the secretary of the apostle Peter. But John tells us it was Peter, doesn’t he—ever impulsive, impetuous Peter. And then Luke adds that Jesus rebuked him and healed the man—that even in the hour of his arrest, Christ was showing mercy to his enemies. Peter did not understand, even at that point, how God’s kingdom would come to pass—would not come by force or violence, but by the Spirit.
That Jesus then confronts the mob, doesn’t he? He says, “You come out against me as a robber with swords and clubs to capture me. Day after day I was with you in the temple teaching; you did not seize me.” And then at that moment, all the disciples forsook him and fled. It was not only Judas or Peter, but they all abandoned him. And we see that the test that Jesus said to his disciples that was coming had come, and they weren’t ready for it, were they? Peter certainly wasn’t ready for it. When Jesus says, “Pray that you may not enter into temptation,” but he was confident in himself—had already made his affirmation that he would never deny the Lord—and fell asleep multiple times.
They forsook him and fled. Judas betrayed. Christ stood firm in the midst of it all, didn’t he? And he wasn’t overpowered, but willingly gave himself up in obedience to the Father. In verse 49 he says, “But let the Scriptures be fulfilled.” Judas sold him for silver, but Christ gave himself for his people—salvation. The soldiers seized him, but Christ submitted himself to bear the judgment that his people deserve. The disciples abandoned him; Jesus stood firm so that he could say, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” He bore our sins in his body on the tree that we may die to sin and live to righteousness.
Lessons from the Disciples’ Failure and Judas’ Apostasy
We see many manifold lessons from the disciples’ failure, from the apostasy of Judas. Some wonder, well, what was the sin of Judas? What led him to this conspiracy, this devastating wickedness, this destruction of his own soul? Some speculate. I don’t think we need to speculate. The sins of Judas are laid out very clearly in Scripture: his greed, his hypocrisy, his ungodly fellowship with the wicked, with the enemies of Christ. We will look at some of the warnings that that poses to us.
But then Mark records a strange detail here in the text, in verses 51 and 52: a young man clothed only in linen who fled naked and was seized. And we may wonder why Mark includes this unusual story in his Gospel. There are some things that we can discern from those verses. The young man was not one of the Twelve, but he followed—presumably at a safe distance. He was clothed only in a linen garment. Linen undergarments were very costly; only the wealthy wore them. So this was a young man of some substance, a man of means. The fact that he was only clothed in the linen suggests that he had dressed in haste to follow, perhaps from a nearby home in Jerusalem.
Now, many have suggested this was Mark himself. Mark came from a wealthy family, possibly of priestly status. And if you’ve watched some of the films produced by the Philadelphia director named Shyamalan, he inserts himself biographically into his movies and cameo roles in his films—maybe this is what Mark is doing here. And that’s all pure speculation.
What matters is not who he was, who this young man was, but what happened. When the soldiers grabbed him, he wriggled free. He leaves his garment behind, and he runs away unclothed, exposed, naked, ashamed. In the midst of that crisis, he was reduced to nakedness, and it seems the Gospel writer is showing that all have fled—all running into the dark—even this unnamed man in fear and in shame. And the image they call to mind what the prophet Amos said in Amos chapter 2, verses 13 to 16. When God pronounced judgment on his people, Amos said, “And he who is stout of heart among the mighty shall flee away naked in that day,” declares the Lord.
So perhaps that prophecy is coming to life—that the mighty, the wealthy, even the mighty disciples, the learned, are scattering. Even this young man of substance is fleeing naked, and it’s a picture of judgment—of humanity stripped bare. And we know that the theme of nakedness runs throughout Scripture. In Eden, Adam and Eve were naked and unashamed until sin entered. Then their eyes were opened; they knew that they were naked—that first experience of guilt was that shame of exposure.
Since that day, humanity has never been comfortable with nakedness. We close ourselves instinctively, covering our shame. In Scripture, nakedness is a sign of humiliation, of judgment, of guilt. Scripture says in Revelation the wicked are sent away stripped and disgraced—not only a symbol of shame, but of our utter helplessness.
Have you ever seen the picture of the Gospel? Aren’t we that—in our own righteousness we cannot stand in the presence of a holy God? The Scripture says our righteousness is as filthy rags. We can’t stand before our Creator in our own garments, as it were. Isaiah says God clothes his people with garments of salvation and covers them with robes of righteousness. Paul said to the Galatians in 3:27, “For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ”—are clothed in Christ.
And so on the night that Christ was betrayed, this unnamed man flees into the darkness, ashamed and guilty, as all the disciples were, and as we are. But Jesus would soon be stripped and mocked and crucified, and he did what? But bear our nakedness and shame so that all who trust in him will be clothed in his righteousness and be able to stand unashamed before God.
How we need that clothing! How we are seeing the great wickedness and evil that was perpetrated on the Savior becomes our salvation—that God clothes us in Christ. In fact, the Scriptures are filled with talk about shame, about defilement, about nakedness, about being dishonored. Shame, of course, is a consequence of our own sin, but also a shame that is a consequence of people sinning against us. Psalm 79—the temple is shamed or defiled because of its contact with people and objects that were unclean.
The Bible can be legitimately viewed as a story of God covering the shame of his people. You could make a good case that that is the dominant theme of the Scriptures—that God is going to cover the shame of his people. Isaiah 61:10: “I will greatly rejoice in the Lord; my soul shall exult in my God, for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation; he has covered me with the robe of righteousness.”
The premise is that all of us must be covered before God. We can only be covered with Christ himself. “Put on the Lord Jesus Christ; make no provision for the flesh to gratify its desires” (Romans 13:14). So though we see this great betrayal and arrest of Christ, God is transforming the naked one into a beautifully dressed bride—his church—as Revelation 21:2 says: “Who Jerusalem will come down from heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.”
Instructions to Guard Against Betrayal
So in this text, filled with apostasy and betrayal and cowardice, we see Jesus’ redemption. Now as we close here this morning and we think of the failure of the disciples, you just want to take a bit of a pivot and leave us with a few instructions and what we must guard against so we do not find ourselves ever participating in the sin of this Judas, of this betrayer, of this false professor of Christ with false affection for Christ.
What must we guard against? First, guard against greed and love of money and love of the world and worldly things. For it is by these things that Judas betrayed his Lord. Matthew 26:14-16: He says to the chief priests, “What will you give me if I deliver him over to you?” They paid him thirty pieces of silver, and from that moment he besought an opportunity to betray him. May it remind us of Paul’s words of his once protégé or peer, Demas (2 Timothy 4:10): “Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me and gone to Thessalonica.”
Oh, friends, guard against greed and love of money and the love of the world and worldly things. For that was the motivation that caused Judas’ betrayal of his Lord. For if this world is as empty as the Bible says it is, and Jesus is as real and full and rich as the Bible says he is, how foolish it would be to live for this world—how insane it is to love money over Christ or possessions. If Jesus is real, friends, he is worth everything. So we are called to follow him fully.
I was thinking about how by God’s grace, I’ve been a pastor now for more than 25 years. In all those 25 years, and as a child growing up in the church, I’ve been privileged to know some godly men and women during that time, and I’ve never met anyone who ever said to me, “I’m sorry I spent so much time in the means of grace. I’m sorry I spent so much time reading the Scriptures or praying. I’m sorry that I’ve listened to so many biblically based sermons and read so much rich theology.” But oh, how many people have said, “I’m sorry that I’ve thrown my life away to this world. If only I hadn’t wasted so much time.”
You see, does it make any sense? Does it make any sense not to turn from your sin and turn to the Lord? It makes no sense to betray our Lord over thirty pieces of silver. Guard against that greed and the love of the world.
And secondly, guard against ungodly companionship and conversations. Guard against ungodly companionship and conversations. Notice it says, “While Jesus was speaking, Judas came, one of the Twelve, with him a great crowd of those with swords and clubs from the chief priests and elders of the people.” Now he just makes you ask the question: if he is one of the Twelve, then why is he with that crowd, the enemies of Christ?
See, the Scriptures tell us that Judas was not destroyed in isolation, but through alliances with ungodly men when he should have been standing with Christ and his disciples. Judas placed himself in the company of those who hated Christ. He was with and identified with Christ’s very enemies. He chose that crowd over the company of his Lord and his apostles. That was not sudden; he had long entertained this ungodly conversation.
You remember he scoffed at Mary’s anointing of Christ, disguised his greed as concern for the poor. He listened to the whispers of the council of the chief priests who offered him thirty pieces of silver. Instead of fleeing their counsel, he walked more deeply into their fellowship, until their thoughts became his own. Oh, friend, let us hear the warning as well as the comfort of Psalm 1: “Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law doth he meditate day and night. He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water that brings forth its fruit in its season… He will be in the congregation of the righteous; the wicked will not stand.”
Be careful of your companionships, of what you’re listening to, what you’re hearing—they only report reinforced his sin. I thought about how we always are telling our children to be careful of peer pressure and wrong associations, but we as adults need that as well, don’t we? Beware of worldly alliances and ungodly associations that would dull your love for Christ.
And lastly, guard against external profession without true faith or hypocritical displays of devotion—external professions without true faith, merely mechanically reading the creeds without heart, merely coming and worshiping with your lips, but your heart, as the Scripture says, is far from God. We could labor on many ways to guard against that kind of hypocrisy, but I’ll leave us with this instruction for each of us.
One of the main ways we guard against this kind of false profession and false intimacy—that Jesus says one day many will say falsely in an affectionate, a seemingly affectionate way with no authenticity, “Lord, Lord”—when we look at Christ’s crucifixion and what we had just read here today in this sober text, a true friend of Jesus doesn’t just feel sorrow over what happened long ago, but his betrayal, his arrest, his death should move us to deal ruthlessly with the very things that put him there: sin, hypocrisy, betrayal, false love.
Just as the priests and the crowd stirred one another up to kill Christ, we too must stir ourselves up to kill the sin that killed him. That means putting to death our old sinful desires, cutting off whatever is in us that still clings to earthly passions and lusts, cutting off living in ways that please ourselves, but to live as though the world has lost its grip on us through the power of his cross.
The same way Judas and Pilate and the soldiers and the crowds violently handed Christ over to death—may we, with a holy vengeance, hand our sins over to death, knowing that Christ bore the full wrath of God against sin in his body. Now by his cross, we are called to crucify sin in ours. May we do it for the glory of God and the purity of his church.
Closing Prayer
Let’s pray. Father, as we read this sobering text, the great wickedness that took place on that day, Lord, our minds are directed to be sober, to have a sense of the great wickedness that prevailed in that garden, and yet Christ was sovereign even over it. But how, Lord, we would serve you and deal ruthlessly with the things that put our Savior on the cross. Give us that kind of zeal; cause us, oh Lord, not to live haphazardly. Keep us from false professions of faith; hold us and preserve us, as you have promised to do, for the glory of your name’s sake. And we pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.