Well, good morning, Gateway Church. It’s good to be with you. We are live at all of our campuses today. Whether you are at the North Campus, joining us from around Austin, or watching online while on spring break, we are so glad that you are with us. We are in an “in-between” series that is going to take us all the way to Easter.
I want to make sure you make note of a few things. As we get ready for Easter weekend, we have the Good Friday service at all of our campuses. Also, please note that service times for Easter weekend have changed; there are extra services, and we’ve adjusted the schedule for all locations. As you prepare to invite your friends and family, remember: if they already have a church, let them go there. But for friends who are disconnected or unchurched, invite them. Most people will say yes and lean into that.
Last night, my wife and I were at dinner with a couple from our North campus, Lionel and Suma. They moved here from India in 2022. We were having a great time, eating good Indian food and talking about culture. For dessert, we had butter pecan ice cream—my favorite. But then the dinner shifted. Suma looked at us and asked, “Will you pray over Lionel and me?”
We were laughing moments before, but I looked at them and asked what was weighing on their hearts. They shared for a few minutes about things they were believing for and needing God’s favor in. You could feel the weightiness in the room. Even though they were working through things, they hosted us with amazing hospitality. Have you ever been to a dinner like that? Where there is a shift, and it becomes about more than just hanging out? It becomes relational and weighty.
I want you to imagine a moment like that at your table, then multiply it exponentially and put Jesus at the center. He is having dinner with the people he loves. He isn’t distracted or guessing about what will happen. It is Passion Week. He knows the cross is waiting. He knows the nails, the abandonment, and the hearts of the men in the room. He knows that the next few hours will model for the next 2,000 years the beauty, tragedy, and restoration of what it means to be close to Jesus and yet fail.
Jesus sits in the tension between fellowship and treachery, loyalty and denial. Yet, he still washes their feet. He serves Peter—impulsive and loud—and he serves Judas—quiet and calculating. He doesn’t turn his back. It should be unsettling for us that men could be close enough to feel the water and the touch of the Savior, yet still walk away.
This table was about more than hospitality; it was about covenant and identity. The Jewish Historical Society describes the table as a sacred space, a sanctuary or altar that bridges the physical and spiritual worlds. Jesus invites his friends to this altar where he would be the sacrifice, and they would be the ones who put him there.
Why does he do this? Because Psalm 41:9 was “in the air”: “Even my close friend, someone I trusted, one who shared my bread, has turned against me.” Jesus models that his table is wide enough even for those who betray him. How many of us have a narrow table for others while enjoying the benefit of Christ’s wide table for ourselves?
We see two men at the same table with very different responses. Let’s look at Luke 22:14-34. Jesus tells them he has eagerly desired to eat this Passover with them. He institutes the New Covenant, saying, “This is my body given for you.” Then he drops the bombshell: “The hand of him who is going to betray me is with mine on the table.”
Immediately, the disciples start arguing about which of them is the greatest. Jesus corrects them, saying the greatest must be the one who serves. Then he turns to Peter (Simon) and says, “Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat. But I have prayed for you… that your faith may not fail.” Peter, in his overconfidence, claims he is ready for prison and death. Jesus answers, “Before the rooster crows today, you will deny three times that you know me.”
What do we learn from these two?
Judas was close but calculating. He didn’t trip into betrayal; he drifted into it over time. We see this in John 12 when he objects to Mary washing Jesus’ feet with expensive perfume. He didn’t care about the poor; he was a thief who wanted the money for himself. Before Judas betrayed Jesus publicly, he deceived him privately. This happens when disappointment settles in—when God isn’t moving as quickly as we hoped or answering the way we expected. Betrayal is often an attempt to control what we do not trust God with.
Peter was loud but fragile. His issue wasn’t hidden calculation, but exposed overconfidence. He thought his history with Jesus and his own strength would sustain him. Yet, when Jesus was arrested, Peter followed “at a distance.” When confronted by a servant girl, he denied Jesus. He denied him three times, just as predicted. Then, the rooster crowed, and Jesus looked straight at Peter. In those eyes, Peter didn’t see “I told you so,” but grace and mercy. Peter went out and wept bitterly.
Both men failed. Both felt deep sorrow. But there is a massive difference. Judas felt remorse, which led to isolation and despair. He tried to fix it himself by returning the money, but he didn’t return to Jesus. Isolation is where shame grows. Peter, however, experienced repentance.
After the resurrection, Jesus asks Peter three times, “Do you love me?” This was to restore him for the three times he denied him. Remorse says, “I’m sorry.” Repentance says, “I need Him.” Remorse focuses on the failure; repentance moves toward the Savior.
Communion is not a reward for the perfect; it is an invitation for the returning. We all have a little Judas and a little Peter in us. We all drift or become overconfident. But today, the invitation is to run toward the grace of Jesus.
