“Friend, Do What You Came to Do”
This is an adapted excerpt from “Betrayal of a Close Friend“ for our Seven Sermon Summer Surfin’ Spectacular.
In the shadowed halls of medieval Scotland, a celebrated warrior named Macbeth, honored and trusted by his king, gave in to a whisper of ambition. He welcomed his king into his home under the mask of loyalty, shared a meal with him, and then, under the cover of night, murdered the very man who trusted him most.
Does this story sound familiar? A trusted friend, a shared meal, a betrayal in the dark (John 13:30). It’s a tragedy that haunts us, whether in Shakespeare or in Scripture. The story of Judas Iscariot — into whom Satan had already entered (Luke 22:3) — follows this same heartbreaking path, with one chilling difference: King Jesus knew it was coming all along. By looking at the ancient psalms that Jesus himself quoted, we can see the prophecy of this pain and build our faith on the stunning truth of his foreknowledge.
The Big Idea: The psalms foretold not just the event of the betrayal, but the real, human pain Jesus would feel as a friend.
The Friend Who Shared My Bread — Psalm 41
In the upper room, just after washing his disciples’ feet, Jesus was “troubled in his spirit” and made a stunning announcement: “Truly, truly, I say to you, one of you will betray me” (John 13:21). To explain, he quoted an ancient scripture: “He who ate my bread has lifted his heel against me.”
On its own, that phrase sounds bad enough. But to understand the true depth of the wound, we have to go back to its source, Psalm 41. There, King David writes not just of an enemy, but of a profound, personal betrayal: “Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me” (Ps. 41:9). This wasn’t just any associate; this was a companion, a confidant. The entire psalm echoes the last week of Jesus’s life, speaking of enemies who whisper and plot and maliciously ask, “When will he die and his name perish?” (Ps. 41:5).
The Companion with a Drawn Sword — Psalm 55
Another psalm of David, Psalm 55, adds even more emotional color to this tragedy. David cries out that his pain would be bearable if it came from a normal enemy. But, he says, “it is you, a man, my equal, my companion, my familiar friend”(Ps. 55:13). The desire to “fly away and be at rest” from the anguish (Ps. 55:6) mirrors Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, whose soul was “very sorrowful, even to death” (Matt. 26:38).
This psalm gives us a stunningly accurate picture of Judas’s final actions. The traitor’s words, David writes, were “smooth as butter, yet war was in his heart ... softer than oil, yet they were drawn swords” (Ps. 55:21). Can’t you just hear Judas in the garden saying, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and giving him a kiss, all while an army with swords and clubs waited behind him? The words were smooth, but they were a signal for violence (Matt. 26:49).
Your Turn
In both of these psalms, after pouring out the pain of betrayal, David lands on the same solution: “Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you” (Ps. 55:22). This is exactly what Jesus did. In the garden, when Judas approached, Matthew is the only gospel writer who records Jesus’s first word to his betrayer: “Friend” (Matt. 26:50). It wasn't sarcasm; it was a genuine acknowledgment of the relationship they had, making the pain even sharper.
As they led him away, Jesus cast his burden on God, trusting that he would be raised up, just as the psalm promised. The betrayal was real, the human pain was immense, but the hope in God was greater. The question this leaves for us is the one the old hymns ask: we say we will be a friend to Jesus, but what kind? Some are friends only for a season, like the seed that falls on rocky ground and withers when trouble or persecution comes (Matt. 13:20-21).