Jesus knew. Judas knew.

They both knew who was going to turn Jesus over to the religious hierarchy when no crowds could interfere, no followers could protest, no believers could stop them.

Judas knew because he had made the arrangements. Jesus knew because, well, he was Jesus. He knew who, he knew why, he knew when, he knew how, he knew what.

Even though they both knew, they dragged the other eleven men gathered around the table through a time of questioning and self-examination.

“Surely not I, Lord,” was the statement  each made.

It sounds defensive. It probably is. But it may be the self-defensiveness of a person who is sure that they remembered to turn off the oven, but they have a little bit of question in their mind.

“Maybe I left it on.”

“Maybe I could betray him.”

What we know, because we’ve heard the stories, is that one other disciple denied knowing Jesus. Ten other disciples didn’t interfere, didn’t stay close, didn’t think they could do anything against armed guards. In other words, every one of the twelve allowed Jesus to be taken.

In a sense, I’m relieved by the unanimity. It means that they were fully human, just like us, just like me. We don’t want to be the weak link, the one who fails God or fails others. We compare ourselves to the real betrayers and say, “surely I am good enough.”

We aren’t. We are united by our inability to measure up to the standard of goodness that God’s goodness requires. Which Jesus knew.

That is why he allowed the round of questions to be asked by everyone, including Judas. And why he let Judas go to the accusers.

Jesus invites us to examine ourselves, to see our weakness and thereby need his strength.