We talked about love yesterday, about loving each other. It sounds delightfully lovely.

It isn’t. It’s tongue-chewingly, ego-brutalizingly, priority-devastatingly lovely. Walk backwards with me through John 13.

• Right before Jesus gave his new command, to love one another in the same way he had loved them, Judas left the room, slipping away, arousing no suspicions.
• Right before that, Jesus let Judas know that he knew what Judas was up to. He defined a secret sign and then calmly offered it to Judas. And with the sign being food, it means that he offered hospitality, a gift.
• Right before that, it was clear that no one else suspected Judas. Everyone wondered who it could be. Each one asked about himself.
• Right before that, Jesus washed the feet of each disciple, including Judas.

Jesus left Judas no reason for betrayal, at least not in terms of personal treatment that night. There were likely philosophical disagreements. Judas argued that money wasted on perfume could have been spent on the poor. There were certainly ethical disagreements. Judas wanted to steal the money from the poor. But after all the high moral posturing and low moral behavior, this one thing is true. Jesus treated Judas exactly the same as the rest of the disciples that night, with the respect and service which characterize his love.

Of course, all of the disciples would be gone before the evening was over. All would walk or run or deny. All of them would be completely human, completely like us.

As you walk into this weekend, with time, perhaps, for more reflection than usual, reflect on a couple ideas:

• If you wonder whether Jesus loves you, look at how he treated Judas.
• If you ever wonder whether you can love, ask the one who treated Judas that way for help.