26:47–56 Previously in chapter 26, Jesus had told the disciples that he would soon be crucified and buried (vv. 2, 12), that one of them would betray him (vv. 20–24, 45–46), and that all would “fall away” (vv. 30–35). Nonetheless, the disciples barely listened, then fell asleep, both literally and spiritually (vv. 40–46), so that they were unprepared for Jesus’ betrayal, arrest, trial, and death. When Judas arrived, Jesus had to rouse the sleepy disciples to meet him (vv. 45–46).

Judas’s perfidy supplies the means for seizing Jesus quietly, as the authorities have hoped, at night, outside the city, far from adoring crowds (vv. 3–5). An armed mob, sent by Israel’s priests and elders (John 18:3), comes to seize him. Because of the darkness and because names were known better than faces in prephotographic days, Judas chooses a kiss as the sign to lead the men to Jesus (Matt. 26:48–49, illustrating Prov. 27:6, “profuse are the kisses of an enemy”).

The report of Judas’s entry—“‘Greetings, Rabbi!’ And he kissed him” (Matt. 26:49)—groans with irony. “Greetings” wishes peace, but Judas intends violence. “Rabbi” means master, but Judas has repudiated Jesus as Lord. The kiss (cheek to cheek) is a token of affection, the shared greeting of true friends, but affection has drained from Judas.

Jesus’ reply is calm: “Friend, do what you came to do” (v. 50). “Friend” is not the warm term philia but the cooler hetairos that describes comrades or associates, not close companions. The translation of the next clause is difficult. The Greek text, eph’ ho parei, literally means “for what you are come.” Supplying the word “do,” this could be a question, “Why do you come?” or a command, “Do what you come for.” It could also be a resigned “You come for this?” or a disappointed “So you come for this?”452 Each option is plausible, since the original Greek lacks punctuation and each fits the emotional tenor of the moment.

In all four Gospels, Jesus exercises calm mastery of the scene.453 In John 18:2–9 Jesus greets the soldiers as they arrive, asking, “Whom do you seek?” They answer, “Jesus of Nazareth.” Jesus replies, “I am [he],” and his words knock them down. The “I am” (egō eimi) echoes Scripture’s great “I am” statements (Ex. 3:6–15; John 8:58). The incapacitated soldiers lay there until Jesus rouses them. He then orders them to arrest him and let his men go. All four Gospels also record a spasm of action that leads someone (Peter, John 18:10 reports) to draw his sword and sever the ear of a servant in the crowd (Matt. 26:51). Perhaps Peter sees this as the moment to prove his loyalty and courage. The move is gallant but feckless, and his energy quickly dissipates. Luke 22:51 records how Jesus restores the man’s ear. Matthew describes Jesus’ poise as he rebukes the violence: “Put your sword back into its place. For all who take the sword will perish by the sword” (Matt. 26:52). This proverb summarizes the familiar experience that violence tends “to recoil on those who perpetrate it.”454 Jesus states the general principle in Matthew 7:2 and Luke 6:38: “With the measure you use it will be measured [back] to you.”

Jesus certainly needs no sword for his defense. The Father protects the Son and his church. Legions of angels are at Jesus’ disposal if he wants to escape arrest and death (Matt. 26:53; cf. 2 Kings 6:17). The hour, however, has come for Scripture, prophesying the suffering of the Messiah, to be fulfilled (Matt. 26:54). Jesus chooses to permit his arrest.

Jesus does not lead an insurrection and has never used force (excluding the temple judgment of 21:12). Why then, he asks, do they come “with swords and clubs” to capture him? Jesus is not physically dangerous. Besides, it would have been easy to capture him, since he “sat in the temple teaching” daily (26:54–55).

Instead of resisting arrest, he insists that these events are fulfilling Scripture (vv. 54, 56). The repetition underscores the principle: the Scriptures foretell Jesus’ suffering, death, and resurrection. Earlier, the disciples had declared that they were willing to die with Jesus, but at his arrest they all “left him and fled” (vv. 35, 56). So the disciples’ “rash vow of fidelity” fails, while Scripture is fulfilled (v. 31; Zech. 13:7).455 Jesus sees the Father’s design in each event. Everything happens “that the Scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled” (Matt. 26:56), for “Scripture cannot be broken” (John 10:35).

Critics charge that Matthew’s fulfillment-of-Scripture theme is an ex post facto creation of the church. The argument goes like this: as the early church struggled to account for Jesus’ death, they fabricated predictions of his death and put them on Jesus’ lips. In this way, they managed the shock of his death. Among the four Gospels, Matthew has the strongest fulfillment motif; therefore, Matthew and his community either initiated the motif or had the greatest interest in using it to explain Jesus’ death. Thus the death of Jesus loses its initial status as a stunning reversal and becomes the plan of God. The other Gospels make less use of this motif and apply it principally to the problem of Jesus’ death. So say the skeptics. But careful consideration of the evidence shows that the NT accounts are reliable.

To summarize, within the NT the fulfillment of Scripture motif appears primarily in two places. First, Matthew often states that something has happened to fulfill the words of a prophet (Matt. 1:22; 2:15, 17, 23; 4:14; 8:17; 12:17; 13:35; 21:4; 27:9). Second, the fulfillment motif is most common during the final week, with reference to Christ’s death (26:54, 56; 27:9, 35). By contrast, in 3:15; 5:17; and 13:14, Jesus sees a fulfillment of righteousness, law, or prophecy without reference to his death.

By my count, Jesus says Scripture must be fulfilled on twenty occasions.456 Thirteen of these refer to his death and resurrection: Matthew 26:54, 56; 27:9, 35;457 Mark 14:49; Luke 22:37; 24:44; and John 13:18; 15:25; 17:12, 13; 18:32; 19:28. Jesus speaks of fulfillment of Scripture with a different theme in Matthew 3:15; 5:17; 13:14; in Luke 4:21; 21:22–24; 22:16; and John 18:9, although 18:9 connects to his arrest.458 So about two-thirds of Jesus’ fulfillment statements describe some aspect of his death, and each appears in the passion narratives.459

But did Jesus’ disciples or Matthew’s alleged community create the fulfillment statements? The statements’ pattern makes that unlikely. Specifically, while Matthew often says something fulfills Scripture, only one of the fulfillments that he detects refer to Jesus’ death in any way, and that is oblique, in Matthew 27:7–10, regarding Judas’s burial in a potter’s field. Further, in the fulfillment-of-Scripture statements that come from Matthew as narrator, none of the rest (1:22; 2:15, 17; 4:14; 8:17; 12:17; 13:35; and 21:4) refers to the crucifixion (8:17 may faintly allude to it). Meanwhile, two of the five fulfillment statements on Jesus’ lips refer to his death (26:54, 26:56 do; 3:15, 5:17, and 13:14 do not). So, in general, Jesus says his death fulfills Scripture while Matthew, as narrator, does not.

The other Gospels also cite Jesus as the source of fulfillment statements. Of Luke’s five and John’s ten, Jesus is the direct or indirect source of all fulfillment sayings but four: Luke 1:20, John 12:38; 19:24, 36. Mark’s lone fulfillment-of-Scripture statement is from Jesus. Again, most of Jesus’ fulfillment sayings refer to the crucifixion: one of one in Mark (14:49), two of five in Luke (22:37; 24:44), and six of seven in John (13:18; 15:25; 17:12, 13; 18:32; 19:28).

More importantly for the question of authenticity, the theme of fulfillment fades later in the NT canon, where only three fulfillment passages touch Jesus’ death: Acts 1:16; 3:18; and 13:27. We might expect the first two, since Luke-Acts is one two-part work and since Jesus had so recently said his death fulfilled Scripture. The next reference, in Acts 13:27, has both death and resurrection in view (Acts 13:26–41). After that, no fulfillment texts mention Jesus’ death. Most refer to the completion of the law (Rom. 8:4; 13:8; Gal. 5:14; 6:2) or particular laws (Acts 21:26; James 2:8, where the verb is teleō). Two fit no prior category (James 2:23; Rev. 10:7, teleō again).

To summarize, the “fulfillment of Scripture” theme appears over forty times (43) in the NT. Over thirty (32) are in the Gospels, most of those (20) are from Jesus’ lips, and most of those (13) refer to his death. So Jesus’ predictions of his death appear to be genuine. Critics believe a saying is more likely to be genuine if it is attested in multiple sources, if it is dissimilar enough from the teachings of Judaism and the early church that Jesus could be its source, while yet fitting within first century Judaism, and if it could seem embarrassing to the early church. A refined and potent formula offered by N. T. Wright is known as the principle of double similarity and double dissimilarity. Craig Blomberg summarizes it this way:

This four-pronged criterion looks for that which is both plausible within a Jewish context in Israel during the first third of the first century, yet dissimilar enough from conventional Jewish thought or practice that the average ancient Jew (or Jewish-Christian) is not likely to have invented it, and plausible within the context of Jesus’ first followers, yet dissimilar enough from subsequent early Christianity that the average ancient Jewish (or gentile) Christian probably didn’t make it up.460

The fulfillment-themed predictions of Jesus’ death fit these criteria perfectly. We obviously have multiple attestations, and the crucifixion of the founder of Christianity would seem most embarrassing in that culture. Most importantly, the criterion of double similarity and double dissimilarity supports the genuineness of the sayings. Crucifixion is plausible within Jewish thought, since Rome had crucified Jews. But a crucified Messiah is quite different from traditional Jewish thought. Further, a crucified Savior fits the NT canon, yet Jesus’ predicting that he would die to fulfill Scripture does not fit well, since the NT’s other statements about fulfillment address other themes, with the lone exception of Matthew 27:10. So then, because Jesus often says his death fulfills Scripture and because the early church makes little of these predictions, it seems highly likely, even by the standards of skeptical scholars, that the theme is truly his.

26:57–68 After the disciples flee, the armed crowd leads Jesus to Caiaphas, the high priest. With the scribes and elders at hand, the first, probably informal, part of Jesus’ trial begins. All four Gospels record that the Romans sentence and execute Jesus, and all say the action begins when temple authorities arrest Jesus (26:47, 57; John 18:3–12). To report this is not anti-Semitic. All authorities, Jew and Gentile, see Jesus as a threat. The Jewish authorities aim to convict Jesus of sedition so that the Romans might punish him. According to Josephus, they did just that with Jesus son of Ananias in AD 62. When he prophesied against the temple, the Jewish authorities flogged him as a false prophet. When he persisted, they handed him to the Romans, who flogged him again (cf. Luke 23:16).461

Jack Kingsbury explains why the temple authorities believe Jesus deserves to die. In their view,

Jesus blasphemously arrogates to himself the prerogative of God to forgive sins; derives his astonishing authority from . . . collusion with Satan; places himself above law and tradition; dismisses with antagonism the legitimate request that he prove he does indeed act on authorization of God; impugns their ethics and undermines their authority as interpreters of scripture and the leaders of God’s people Israel.462

The crowds abandon Jesus because the majority had never fully committed to his cause (Matt. 11:16–24). The disciples fall away because they had not adopted Jesus’ view of his mission (16:22). Meanwhile, Jesus’ repeated prophecies of his death suggest God’s control and purpose in all events (16:24; 17:23; 20:18–19).463

The trial before Caiaphas occurs at night (cf. 26:20), contrary to Jewish law encoded in the Mishnah. Some scholars accent the illegalities and injustices of Jesus’ trials. Because it occurs at night, in haste, without proper opportunity to question witnesses, it lacks the precautions the Mishnah establishes to prevent the condemnation of the innocent. This, some skeptics say, casts doubt on the veracity of the Gospels. But this accusation has weaknesses. First, the Mishnah was compiled more than one hundred years after Jesus’ trial, so anachronism is a danger. But even if the Mishnah records rules from Jesus’ day, there is no assurance that the priests and elders who conduct the trial have adopted rules codified by very different groups within Judaism, the scribes and Pharisees. Second, the rulers believe they have to act, since Jesus has created a crisis, with mob violence threatening on one side and Roman suppression on the other (John 11:47–53).

Further, Matthew shows that the authorities do not wholly disregard the law. The council seeks “false testimony against Jesus that they might put him to death, but they found none, though many false witnesses came forward” (Matt. 26:59–60). Clearly, some sense of proper procedure still holds, because Caiaphas recognizes that his witnesses are worthless. This is why he shifts tactics and questions Jesus directly. Perhaps the problem is not that the false witnesses lie but that they transparently seek a conviction, not truth or justice.

Again, this is not anti-Semitic. Jesus’ accusers are Jewish, but so are his followers. More to the point, the Gospels blame the priests and elders, an elite group, for Jesus’ death (Matthew names the Pharisees only at 27:62). So yes, the Gospels do “blame some Jews for Jesus’ death. They also blame some Romans.”464

The soldiers lead Jesus to Caiaphas, with whom the scribes and elders wait. The chief priests and the council want to put Jesus to death (26:59). Lacking evidence of a capital crime, however, they produce false witnesses who manage to garble Jesus’ prophecy of his death and resurrection from John 2:19–21 so that it sounds like a threat against the temple. This perhaps seems more ominous given Jesus’ recent actions in the temple. But the witnesses accomplish nothing except to contradict each other (Matt. 26:60–61; Mark 14:56, 59).

Jesus remains silent throughout (cf. Isa. 53:7). The high priest, having nothing to work with, invites Jesus to incriminate himself, under oath: “I adjure you by the living God, tell us if you are the Christ, the Son of God” (Matt. 26:63). The priest invites Jesus to claim to be Israel’s deliverer. The phrase “Son of God,” especially on Caiaphas’s lips, need not mean he is asking if Jesus claims to be divine. The phrase does not always denote deity (cf. 2:15). Yet some authorities know that Jesus’ words and actions amount to implicit claims of deity (John 8:58–59; 10:30–39). They see his triumphal entry and his temple action and hear him forgive sins on his own authority, which God alone can do (Matt. 9:2–3//Luke 5:20–25; cf. Isa. 43:25).

The question puts Jesus in a difficult position. If he denies that he is the Messiah, he is free, but as a liar who will lose his following. If he affirms that he is the Messiah, the council could judge him a danger to Roman rule (John 19:12) and a blasphemer. (The charge of blasphemy is not necessarily directed at a claim of deity. The term is flexible.)

There is no more need for Jesus to conceal his identity, so he replies, “You have said so. But I tell you . . .” (Matt. 26:64). “You have said so” could mean, “Yes, what you say is true.” But the next line shows that Jesus intends to correct or qualify his confession. Jesus is the Messiah, but not the Messiah they imagine. Instead, they “will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven” (v. 64). Jesus is the Messiah, but he must explain himself.

Suppose someone keels over in the stands at a sports arena. The cry rises, “Is there a doctor in the house?” A child’s eyes dart to her father, others notice, and they ask, “Are you a doctor?” The father has a PhD, and the child knows people call him Dr. Smith, but he is no physician. So he answers, “Yes, but . . .” If asked, “Are you the Christ, the Son of God?” honesty requires Jesus to say “Yes.” Yet the probability of misconception requires “but.” Yes, Jesus is the Christ, but he sits at the right hand of God the Father, not on a gilded throne. He comes on clouds, not with armies. Jesus rules, but his relationship to political power is indirect.

The high priest, lacking interest in theological refinements, tears his robes and pronounces, “He has uttered blasphemy.” The tearing of garments signifies great grief (Gen. 37:34; 44:13), but at some level the priest has to be glad, since Jesus has incriminated himself in terms well suited to the authorities’ goals. When Jesus confesses himself to be the Christ, he invites the charge of sedition. Any Messiah could be a rival to the emperor, so Jesus is liable to death by Roman law. Further, when Jesus confesses himself to be God’s Son, coming on the clouds (Dan. 7:13–14), he admits something the authorities could construe as blasphemy, so that he would be liable to death by Jewish law too.

The council agrees: “He deserves death” (Matt. 26:66). A round of abuse and mockery follows (vv. 67–68); then they lead Jesus to Pilate. But first the narrative returns to Peter, last mentioned in verse 58 when he followed Jesus to the high priest’s courtyard and sat down with the guards to see matters to their end.

26:69–75 Matthew juxtaposes Jesus’ confession and Peter’s denials. By locating Peter’s denials next to Jesus’ trial, the Evangelist sets up a dramatic contrast. “Jesus stands up to his questioners and denies nothing, while Peter cowers before his questioners and denies everything.”465 While Jesus offers his life for Peter, Peter denies any connection to Jesus. He even curses himself and swears, “I do not know the man” (v. 74). Worse yet, Peter denies Jesus repeatedly, solemnly, and vehemently from his position as apostle and leader of the Twelve, despite Jesus’ prediction and warning and despite his resolutions to the contrary.

Peter’s denials are, like all sin, both mystifying and understandable. He had sworn that even if every other disciple should fall away, he would never fall away (v. 33). But the test arrives obliquely, not by a soldier. A servant or slave girl (Gk. paidiskē), perhaps twelve or fourteen years old, approaches him and says, ‘You also were with Jesus the Galilean.’” (v. 69). This sounds casual; the other Gospels confirm the impression. In Mark 14:66–67, the girl first sees him (eidon), then looks him over (emblepō), as if she has made a discovery: “You also were with . . . Jesus.” John 18:16–17 adds that she asks a question, “You also are not one of this man’s disciples, are you?” Grammatically, the question expects a negative answer: “No, I am not.” So Peter faces a surprise, not a confrontation. But the situation is dangerous, with antagonistic authorities nearby (notice “before them all” in Matt. 26:70). So Peter’s first denial is mild. He feigns ignorance: “I do not know what you mean” (v. 70).

Peter walks away, only to meet another servant girl who also recognizes him and tells some bystanders, “This man was with Jesus of Nazareth” (v. 71). John 18:25 notes that others join in asking if he is a disciple. With tension rising, Peter continues down the wrong path. He has denied Jesus once; he does it again. But the first time Peter pretended he did not understand; this time he calls God as witness to deny it “with an oath.” First he said in effect, “I do not follow your topic”; now he says, “I do not know the man” (Matt. 26:70, 72).

Peter’s troubles return soon, as bystanders intensify the charge: “Certainly you too are one of them, for your accent betrays you” (v. 73). This is an indictment, not an observation about diction. Peter already stands accused of being “with Jesus.” The third charge mounts evidence: Jesus and Peter are both Galilean. John 18:26 adds that a servant of Caiaphas recognizes Peter as the one with the sword at Jesus’ arrest. The situation has escalated. As the pressure increases, so does Peter’s rhetoric. When Matthew reports how Peter “began to . . . curse . . . and to swear,” it means he is invoking a curse upon himself: “May the Lord curse and condemn me, if I know Jesus” (cf. Matt. 26:74). At that moment, the rooster crows. It calls Jesus’ prophesy to mind, and Peter begins to weep. He has escaped, but at a dreadful cost.