How often the question is asked: "What are Judas, Pilate, and the high priests guilty of if Jesus still had to suffer and be killed? Otherwise He would not have died."

Here everything is turned upside down. These people do not become murderers because Jesus has to die; rather, Jesus has to die because people are murderers. By his fall, man brought human death into the world. More than that, the first human death came not from disease or from an earthquake, but from a brother's hand. We are all sinners, and sin is death; we are all murderers. And the only non-murderer who came into this world was doomed. But what horrifies is the inner darkness, and therefore the "quality" of life, of those who become executors of this act of this world.

The matter is moving toward its resolution. The true traits of the characters and their real desires appear more and more clearly. The scribes and Pharisees no longer argue. They have lost every argument. And this did not convince them, did not stop them, did not make them doubt. "Brood of vipers," as John called them. They argued with the Truth for a long time; now all that remains is to kill it. At last they have openly understood their real desire: "to take Him by stealth and kill Him." They had done this in their hearts long ago. They are concerned only that the people not think anything bad of them.

The woman, however, "who was known in the city as a sinner," could have feared anger and condemnation. It is impossible for her to hide her vices. Yet she is the one who brings the precious ointment. The impulse of her heart draws her irresistibly to Jesus. In it everything is expressed: love, gratitude, repentance. She does not think about what people will say about her.

Judas finally goes to carry out his betrayal. He too has made his decision.

What else can Jesus still manage to do for us, for His disciples, for people? What could He do at all? Give Himself. Remain with us. The Paschal Meal with the disciples continues to this day. Jesus comes to us, as He promised, in the Sacrament of the Eucharist. The covenant with God, the New Covenant, is renewed at every Liturgy. The Bread and Wine, transformed by His Spirit, nourish and satisfy each one: "...and they all drank of it." He remains faithful to the end and forever. And our heart rejoices after Communion, as did the disciples: they "sang a hymn."

At the same time, however, another theme runs through the passage: the theme of betrayal. Judas betrays. Peter will deny Him. The disciples are distressed and doubt themselves: "Is it I?" They do not know what is in their heart. They would like to "die with Him," but it turns out they cannot. They still cannot decide. And we?

And why does this keep happening to us? Everything has been given to us: wisdom, truth, love, life. Yet we doubt, deny, and often betray. Is it possible to remain faithful to the end? What is our decision? What is in our heart?

When reading the Gospel accounts of the Last Supper and of everything that followed, one cannot help asking: could it have been otherwise? And if it could not, if "the Son of Man goes as it is written of Him," does this not mean that no one is guilty of anything, that all the participants in those events were merely acting out a drama, not written by them, predetermined in advance so that none of them could change anything in it? But why, then, does Jesus Himself, speaking of the inevitability of what is happening, immediately add: "but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed"? Perhaps, after all, there is inevitability and there is inevitability. Indeed, after the fall, the earthly path of the Messiah could not be without obstacles; one way or another it had to end in suffering and death. And yet, even in such a state of affairs, everyone is free to make the decision he considers right. Yes, in a fallen world every community inevitably has its own Judas; but this does not predetermine the specific choice of a specific person, and for that very reason responsibility for the choice he has made is not removed from him. Besides, none of the participants in that drama was, quite obviously, thinking about any predestination. Beautiful stories in the style of Leonid Andreyev are out of place here, and this is perhaps the most frightening thing of all. Jesus simply got in the way of many people, for different but entirely earthly reasons. And if so, then however sorrowful it is to admit, any of us could potentially have found ourselves in the place of His persecutors. The choice always remains. The main thing is for it to be the right one.