**The Anointing at Bethany and the Betrayal**

The sun hung low over the hills of Bethany, casting long shadows across the quiet streets as the scent of evening meals wafted through the air. It was two days before Passover, and Jerusalem buzzed with pilgrims preparing for the sacred feast. Yet in the small village just outside the city, in the home of Simon the leper, a gathering of profound significance was taking place.

Jesus reclined at the table, His face weary yet serene, surrounded by His disciples and friends. The warmth of the oil lamps flickered against the walls, illuminating the faces of those who loved Him. Among them was a woman—her name unspoken in this account, yet her act would be told wherever the Gospel was proclaimed. She carried an alabaster flask of pure nard, an expensive perfume worth nearly a year’s wages. Without hesitation, she approached Jesus, her hands trembling slightly as she broke the flask’s seal.

The rich, spiced fragrance filled the room as she poured the oil over His head, the liquid glistening in His dark hair before dripping onto His shoulders. Some of those present recoiled in indignation, murmuring among themselves.

“What a waste!” one of them muttered. “This perfume could have been sold for three hundred denarii and given to the poor!”

Judas Iscariot, the keeper of the moneybag, clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he watched the extravagant display. His heart had already begun to fester with greed and resentment, and this act of devotion only deepened his bitterness.

But Jesus, sensing their disapproval, turned to them with gentle firmness. “Leave her alone,” He said. “Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing for Me.” His voice carried the weight of divine knowledge. “The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them whenever you wish. But you will not always have Me.”

He paused, His gaze filled with sorrowful understanding. “She has anointed My body beforehand for burial. Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached in all the world, what she has done will also be told in memory of her.”

A heavy silence settled over the room. The disciples exchanged uneasy glances, for His words hinted at a coming suffering they could scarcely comprehend.

### **The Betrayal Set in Motion**

Judas slipped away from the gathering, his heart seething. The woman’s act of devotion had been the final straw. He made his way through the dim streets toward the city, his mind racing. The chief priests had long sought a way to arrest Jesus without causing an uproar, and Judas knew he could deliver Him to them—for a price.

Under the cover of night, he entered the palace of the high priest, his sandals clicking against the cold stone floor. The priests and scribes sat in council, their faces sharp with calculation.

“What are you willing to give me if I deliver Him to you?” Judas asked, his voice steady despite the treachery in his heart.

Their eyes gleamed with satisfaction. They counted out thirty pieces of silver—the price of a slave—and placed them in his waiting hands. From that moment, Judas watched for an opportunity to betray Jesus when no crowd was present.

### **The Last Supper**

As the first day of Unleavened Bread arrived, Jesus sent two of His disciples—Peter and John—into Jerusalem to prepare the Passover meal. “Go into the city,” He instructed, “and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him to the house he enters, and say to the master of the house, ‘The Teacher asks: Where is My guest room, where I may eat the Passover with My disciples?’ He will show you a large upper room, furnished and ready. Make preparations for us there.”

The disciples did as He commanded, and by evening, they gathered in the upper room, the air thick with the scent of roasted lamb and bitter herbs. The flickering lamplight cast long shadows as Jesus took His place among them.

But as they reclined at the table, His voice grew solemn. “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray Me—one who is eating with Me.”

The disciples stared at one another in shock and dismay. “Surely not I?” each murmured in turn.

Jesus dipped a piece of bread and handed it to Judas. “What you are going to do, do quickly,” He said softly.

Judas took the morsel, his face unreadable, then rose and vanished into the night. The others thought perhaps he had been sent to buy supplies or give to the poor. But Jesus knew. The hour of darkness was approaching.

### **The Agony in Gethsemane**

After singing a hymn, they made their way to the Mount of Olives, the night air cool against their skin. Jesus led them to a place called Gethsemane, where the gnarled olive trees stood like silent sentinels.

“Stay here and watch,” He told Peter, James, and John. Then, taking a few steps farther, He fell to the ground, His soul overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. “Abba, Father,” He cried out, “all things are possible for You. Take this cup from Me. Yet not what I will, but what You will.”

His sweat fell like drops of blood as He wrestled in prayer. Returning to His disciples, He found them sleeping. “Simon,” He said gently, “could you not watch one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

Twice more He prayed the same words, surrendering Himself to the Father’s will. And when He returned the third time, He said, “Are you still sleeping? Enough! The hour has come. Look, the Son of Man is delivered into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us go! See, My betrayer is at hand.”

### **The Arrest**

Even as He spoke, the sound of tramping feet and clanking weapons echoed through the garden. Torches flickered among the trees as a crowd of armed men approached—chief priests, scribes, elders, and temple guards, led by Judas.

The betrayer stepped forward, his face a mask of false piety. “Rabbi,” he said, and kissed Jesus on the cheek—the signal he had arranged.

The men seized Jesus roughly, but Peter, impulsive as ever, drew his sword and struck the high priest’s servant, Malchus, cutting off his ear.

“No more of this!” Jesus commanded. He touched the man’s ear and healed him instantly. Then, turning to the mob, He said, “Have you come out with swords and clubs as if I were a robber? Day after day I was with you in the temple teaching, and you did not arrest Me. But let the Scriptures be fulfilled.”

The disciples, seeing their Master taken, fled in terror, leaving Him alone. Only Peter followed at a distance, his heart pounding with fear.

### **The Trial Before the Sanhedrin**

Jesus was dragged through the night to the high priest’s palace, where the council had assembled. False witnesses were brought forward, but their testimonies did not agree.

Finally, the high priest stood and demanded, “Are You the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?”

Jesus, silent no longer, answered, “I am. And you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming with the clouds of heaven.”

The high priest tore his robes in mock outrage. “Blasphemy! What further need do we have of witnesses? You have heard it yourselves!”

The verdict was swift—He was condemned to death. The guards blindfolded Him, spat upon Him, and struck Him with their fists, mocking, “Prophesy to us, Messiah! Who hit You?”

### **Peter’s Denial**

Meanwhile, Peter lingered in the courtyard, warming himself by the fire. A servant girl recognized him. “You also were with the Nazarene, Jesus,” she accused.

Peter’s heart raced. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, edging away.

But others pressed him. “Surely you are one of them—your accent gives you away!”

Cursing, Peter swore, “I do not know this Man!”

At that moment, a rooster crowed. And Jesus, even in His suffering, turned and looked at Peter.

The disciple’s heart shattered. He remembered the Lord’s words: “Before the rooster crows twice, you will deny Me three times.” Overcome with grief, he stumbled away, weeping bitterly.

The night was dark. The hour of betrayal was complete. And the road to the cross had begun.