Have you ever been betrayed by someone you trusted — and felt the fierce, animal impulse to strike back? That ache reveals a deep longing: to be defended, to control the story, to make wrongs right now. The betrayal in the garden forces us to face that longing and to ask whether our first instincts reflect the way of Jesus or something else altogether.

In all four Gospels Judas leads a crowd to arrest Jesus in Gethsemane (Matthew 26:47–56; Mark 14:43–52; Luke 22:47–53; John 18:2–11). Judas identifies Jesus with a kiss; a violent scuffle follows. Matthew and Mark report that a disciple draws a sword and cuts off the servant’s ear; Matthew records Jesus’ rebuke about swords and Mark adds the odd detail of a young man fleeing naked. Luke alone says Jesus healed the man’s ear and stresses Jesus’ words about this being “your hour.” John names Peter and the servant Malchus and preserves the striking detail that when Jesus says “I am he” the arresting party falls back — a small but powerful sign of his authority.

This scene lays bare two truths: Jesus is both sovereign and radically nonviolent. He permits the arrest — not because he is helpless, but because his mission is not advanced by coercion. He disarms with words, touches a wounded enemy, and refuses retaliation. The Kingdom, here, is not a takeover by force but a surrender that breaks sin’s cycle. And yet the human condition is also on display: fear, betrayal, misguided loyalty, and the desire to fix things ourselves. Don’t miss the weight of this moment — it’s the hinge on which salvation turns and a brutal mirror for our hearts.

Today, practice one concrete discipline: when you’re wounded or tempted to lash out, pause and name the feeling (anger, shame, fear). Take three slow breaths, pray one honest line — “Lord, help me not to take the sword” — and do one small act of mercy (send a brief, non-accusatory message, pray for the person, or offer practical help). It won’t solve everything, but it begins to reorient your soul from retaliation toward the strange, costly grace Jesus models.