Catholic Commentary
The Plot Against Jesus and Judas's Betrayal
1Now the feast of unleavened bread, which is called the Passover, was approaching.2The chief priests and the scribes sought how they might put him to death, for they feared the people.3Satan entered into Judas, who was also called Iscariot, who was counted with the twelve.4He went away and talked with the chief priests and captains about how he might deliver him to them.5They were glad, and agreed to give him money.6He consented and sought an opportunity to deliver him to them in the absence of the multitude.
As the Passover draws near, Satan finds his opening not in a stranger but in an apostle—and Judas's betrayal, though freely chosen, moves within God's plan to make Christ the true Lamb.
As the Passover draws near, the religious authorities conspire to destroy Jesus, and Satan finds his instrument in Judas Iscariot, one of the Twelve. These opening verses of the Passion narrative set a theology of evil in motion: human malice, demonic influence, and cowardly opportunism converge—yet, paradoxically, all of it moves within the sovereign arc of God's redeeming plan. Luke frames the betrayal not merely as political intrigue but as a cosmic drama in which the true Passover Lamb is being readied for slaughter.
Verse 1 — "The feast of unleavened bread, which is called the Passover, was approaching." Luke's deliberate opening is liturgical and typological before it is narrative. The Passover (Hebrew Pesach) commemorated the Exodus liberation, when the blood of an unblemished lamb on the doorposts turned the angel of death away from Israel (Exodus 12). By anchoring the conspiracy in this exact liturgical moment, Luke signals that what is about to happen is not random violence but the fulfillment of Israel's foundational saving event. The Passover was "approaching" (ēngizen)—the same verb used earlier when Jesus approached Jerusalem (19:29, 41). Proximity is destiny: the feast and the Cross are converging.
Verse 2 — "The chief priests and the scribes sought how they might put him to death, for they feared the people." The phrase "how they might" (to pōs) conveys deliberate, calculated scheming. These are not men acting from spontaneous outrage but from cold institutional self-interest. The detail that "they feared the people" is crucial: it reveals that their obstacle was not conscience but crowd management. The people regarded Jesus as a prophet (20:6); the authorities regarded him as a threat to their power. Their fear exposes the corruption of leadership that prioritizes self-preservation over truth. The Sanhedrin's opposition has been building since Jesus's entry into Jerusalem (19:47–48), and here it crystallizes into a murder plot.
Verse 3 — "Satan entered into Judas, who was also called Iscariot, who was counted with the twelve." This is one of Luke's most theologically loaded sentences. The phrase "Satan entered into" (eisēlthen de Satanas eis) is strikingly direct—Luke uses the same construction he uses for demonic possession elsewhere, but here it describes not a stranger but an apostle. The identification "who was counted with the twelve" is an agonizing parenthetical. The Greek arithmoumenos ("counted," "numbered") may evoke Psalm 41:9—"even my bosom friend in whom I trusted, who ate of my bread, has lifted his heel against me"—a verse Jesus himself will echo at the Last Supper (John 13:18). Luke earlier noted that at the first sending of the Twelve, "Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor" was among them (6:16); now that notation is fulfilled. The name "Iscariot" is variously interpreted as "man of Kerioth" (a Judean town) or possibly from the Aramaic sicarii (assassin), though the former is more probable. Satan's entrance does not, in Catholic understanding, remove Judas's free will—it represents the full flowering of a disposition already inclined toward betrayal (John 12:6).
Catholic tradition brings several distinct insights to bear on this passage.
On Judas and free will: The Church has consistently taught that Satan's entry into Judas did not destroy his freedom. The Catechism (CCC 1742) affirms that freedom is not annihilated by sin or even by demonic influence; Judas's act was genuinely his own, which is why it constitutes a grave moral failure. St. Augustine (Tract. in Joh. 107) observed that Judas's sin began with avarice—a disordered love of money that opened a door to the devil. St. Thomas Aquinas (ST III, q. 47, a. 4) taught that while Judas sinned gravely, even his betrayal was permitted by God to serve the work of redemption—not because God willed the sin, but because he sovereignly draws good from evil.
On the Passover typology: The Catechism (CCC 1340) explicitly interprets Christ's death as the fulfillment of Passover: "By celebrating the Last Supper with his apostles in the course of the Passover meal, Jesus gave the Jewish Passover its definitive meaning." Luke's temporal setting here is not incidental; it is the interpretive key to the entire Passion. Jesus is not merely martyred—he is sacrificed as the true Lamb (cf. 1 Corinthians 5:7; CCC 608).
On the role of the religious authorities: Nostra Aetate (§4) cautions against attributing collective guilt to the Jewish people for the death of Jesus; the Catechism (CCC 597) is explicit that responsibility falls on sinful humanity as a whole—that is, on all who sin—and not on any ethnic group.
On the mystery of evil within the Church: The presence of a traitor among the Twelve disturbed the Fathers deeply. St. John Chrysostom (Hom. in Matt. 80) saw Judas as a perpetual warning that proximity to Christ—even intimate discipleship—offers no protection against the corruption of a will turned toward greed and self-interest.
These verses confront the contemporary Catholic with three deeply personal challenges. First, they warn against the Judas dynamic: the slow, incremental drift of a disciple whose heart is divided. Judas did not fall in a moment—his betrayal was the culmination of avarice allowed to fester (John 12:6). Catholics are called to examine regularly what loves may be competing with their love for Christ, before those loves reach the point of betrayal.
Second, the "gladness" of the chief priests at finding an accomplice is a sobering mirror for institutional religion: whenever the Church's leaders prioritize self-protection over truth, they replay verse 5. Faithful Catholics are called to demand transparency and courage from their leaders—and from themselves.
Third, Satan's role here is neither mythological exaggeration nor cause for fatalistic despair. The Church teaches (CCC 395) that the devil's power is real but bounded: he cannot act without God's permission, and Christ has already won the decisive victory. The proper response to this passage is not fear but vigilance—the daily practice of prayer, sacramental life, and the examination of conscience that keeps the heart from the incremental drift that undid Judas.
Verse 4 — "He went away and talked with the chief priests and captains about how he might deliver him to them." The word "deliver" (paradō, from paradidōmi) is theologically freighted throughout the Passion: it is the verb for handing over, betraying, and ultimately for God's own act of delivering his Son for our sake (Romans 8:32). Judas approaches not only the chief priests but the "captains" (stratēgoi)—the officers of the Temple guard—signaling that this is both a religious and a paramilitary operation. Judas offers what the authorities most need: insider knowledge of Jesus's movements and the ability to arrange an arrest away from the crowds.
Verse 5 — "They were glad, and agreed to give him money." Their gladness (echarēsan) is a grotesque inversion of the joy that surrounds the Gospel's moments of grace (cf. 1:14; 2:10; 15:32). Matthew (26:15) specifies "thirty pieces of silver," which completes the typological connection to Zechariah 11:12–13, the price of a slave and the wages of a betrayed shepherd.
Verse 6 — "He consented and sought an opportunity to deliver him in the absence of the multitude." Judas's patient, calculating search for "an opportunity" (eukairian) underscores the premeditated nature of the act. The phrase "in the absence of the multitude" (ater ochlou) confirms what verse 2 established: fear of public witness drives the entire operation. The betrayal must happen in darkness, away from scrutiny—a fitting symbol of what John calls the realm of evil, "the hour and the power of darkness" (22:53).