Nothing hurts us like betrayal. It’s hard enough when an enemy turns on us, upending our lives with cruel sabotage. But when we’re betrayed by someone close to us, someone who’s shared life with us for some time, we’re stunned by the enormity of the pain it brings. As a quote I found online expressed it, “Those who don’t know the true value of loyalty can never appreciate the cost of betrayal.”

In William Shakespeare’s play “Julius Caesar” one of the most famous lines is uttered by the dictator when he is unexpectedly attacked by members of the Senate on the Ides of March (March 15). We can hear the heartrending anguish in Caesar’s three simple words: “Et tu, Brute?” (And you, Brutus? You would agree to kill me too?)

Less than a century later someone else would share his experience. A carpenter from Nazareth, who’d gathered a band of twelve disciples and was generating enormous interest through His teachings and miracles, seemed destined for greatness. He’d ridden into Jerusalem on a donkey’s colt with palm branches spread out before Him, the people shouting for joy, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” (Mark 11:9) It seemed inevitable He’d soon be proclaimed the long-awaited Messiah.

In the turbulent weeks just before His death Jesus tasted a wide range of human emotions. Excitement. Triumph. Success. As well as misunderstanding. False accusations. And finally, betrayal. In Luke 22:48 He asks Judas: “Are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?”

Unlike Caesar, Jesus wasn’t blindsided by His stunning reversal of fortune. At the Passover meal He shared with His closest friends just hours before His arrest, He talked about one of them betraying Him. Later, in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus says to Judas: “Friend, do what you came for” (Matthew 26:50).

Knowing it was coming didn’t diminish the impact of Jesus’ betrayal, however. If anything, I believe it heightened it. He had time to process the implications of Judas’ betrayal, which came after they’d shared three years of life together. Judas had seen the miracles, had participated in Jesus’ ministry among the people. He’d also been entrusted with a task not given to the other disciples – looking after the money. He’d seen Jesus in every kind of situation. He’d been privy to His wisdom and spiritual insights. And, as a disciple, he’d been promised the privilege of one day reigning with Jesus in glory.

How could he turn his back on all that … plotting with Jesus’ enemies to sell Him out for thirty silver coins? Part of the Lord’s heartbreak was knowing what lay ahead for Judas. “Woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born” (Matthew 26:24). What a staggering cost Judas paid for his decision.

As awful as betrayal is, there’s something far more powerful I want us to think about as we prepare our hearts for the Easter season. Just a few days before, Jesus and His disciples were eating in the home of Simon, a leper Jesus had healed, who lived in Bethany. During dinner a woman comes in with a jar of very expensive (nard) perfume. (In John 12:3 she is identified as Mary, the sister of Lazarus and Martha.) She breaks the jar and pours the perfume on Jesus, essentially “anointing” Him for what lay ahead.

The disciples were outraged by her action, seeing it as a costly, unnecessary waste. They even cloaked their objections in terms they figured would impress Jesus … arguing the money from the perfume could have been used to feed the poor. But Jesus stuns them by defending her. “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me” (Matthew 26:10). In Benson’s commentary on this passage, he paraphrases Jesus’ statements in this way: “Why do you grieve and distress the good woman of whose piety and friendship we have so long experienced? She has given a great proof of her faith, gratitude, and love, and therefore deserves to be commended rather than blamed.”

Jesus then predicts an incredible result of Mary’s seemingly reckless act of worship: “Wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her” (Matthew 26:13).

Loyalty, a lasting expression of authentic love, is a powerful antidote to the pain of betrayal. Unlike Judas, Mary believed and received all Jesus taught her … both through His conduct and His words. When His popularity suddenly took a nosedive and many of His followers turned away, her steadfast loyalty to Him was a welcome reminder that His life (and death) would not be a waste. Some would continue to follow even when it was uncomfortable.

For us, Mary’s act reveals the value of loyalty. Like His earliest disciples, we’ll be tested in all sorts of ways. Our willingness to remain true to Him and His message will prove how genuine our love for Him is. Will we deny Him when others put us on the spot? Will we misjudge and condemn other believers, like the disciples misjudged Mary? Could we even be tempted, like Judas, to sell out Jesus and His teachings for a little extra money and the world’s acclaim?

In all our relationships, whether human or divine, loyalty is more important than anything else. Loyal friends will ease the pain of betrayal and prove how genuine and lasting their love for us is. In the midst of our most challenging pressures, we, like Jesus, need the encouragement of those who know us and are committed to standing with us as we fulfill our mission from God.

Amy Carmichael, an Irish missionary who served India’s orphans for 55 years, had few loyal friends. But she continued to follow Jesus as she battled critics (even in the church), poor health, and an onslaught of spiritual opposition. She wrote in Things as They Are, “There have been times of late when I have had to hold on to one text with all my might: ‘It is required in stewards that a man be found faithful.’ Praise God, it does not say ‘successful.’”

Like Amy and Mary of Bethany, let’s remain loyal to Jesus (and others who serve Him), no matter what. In our devotion to Him we may inspire future generations, as they did, to pour out their lives too.