As we draw near to the end of Lent and approach Holy Week, our hearts naturally turn toward the Garden of Gethsemane.
I was recently reading the Passion account in the Gospel of Mark, and one line stopped me in my tracks. It was the moment of Judas’ betrayal—the moment when the signal is given.
“The one I kiss is the man; arrest him and lead him away under guard.”
Then Judas approaches Jesus, says, “Rabbi,” and kisses Him.
And with that, the betrayal is sealed.
There’s something so jarring about that.
A kiss—a sign of affection, of closeness, of trust—used as the very instrument of betrayal.
It’s easy to shake our heads at Judas. To wonder how someone who walked so closely with Jesus, who heard His teachings, who shared in meals and miracles, could stoop so low.
But if we’re honest… we’ve all been there.
We go to Mass on Sunday. We stand, kneel, bow. We receive the Eucharist—the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of the One we claim to love. We call Him “Lord,” “Teacher,” “Savior.” We draw near to Him with our lips.
And then the other six days of the week?
We turn away.
We rationalize sin.
We ignore His voice.
We put our own desires first.
In big ways and small, we betray Him—sometimes with something as subtle as a kiss. A moment of external devotion, followed by hearts that remain far from Him.
This isn’t meant to lead us to despair. Quite the opposite.
Holy Week isn’t just about remembering what Judas did. It’s about recognizing what we do—and turning back. It’s about allowing the weight of the Cross to break our hearts open, so that grace can rush in and remake us.
Because even now, even after betrayal, the Father runs to meet the prodigal. Even now, He welcomes us home.