en de nux – three simple Greek words and John makes a profound statement. “It was night” – v.30. Not really a necessary comment, because we could have guessed it from the text.

But a profound comment, a comment with depth and meaning beyond those three words, en de nux – it was night.

Let's go back in the story and recall how we got to this episode. Jesus and his disciples had come down to Jerusalem on that first Palm Sunday, welcomed by the crowds, feted as their champion when he threw over the moneychangers’ tables, when he confuted the challenges of the religious establishment.

They had come, like all good Jews, to Jerusalem to celebrate Passover, perhaps the greatest Jewish festival – the time when the people of Israel remembered God’s rescue of them from slavery in Egypt and his mighty miracles of plagues and the crossing of the Red Sea.

As part of any Passover celebrations, a room had been reserved and Jesus and his disciples had gathered there. Even today, the Jewish family, even the least religious, will gather round a table and re-enact the original Passover meal – remembering how the Lord spared them from the death of their first-born, the last and greatest of the plagues visited on the Egyptians.

So Jesus and his disciples would have gathered round a table, in a borrowed room, Jesus acting like the head of the household. But unlike today, they would have reclined just like all did in the Greco-Roman empire, reclining on couches.

A number of couches or more probably cushions – the table would have been very low – would have been lad out in a U formation and Jesus and his disciples would have leant on their left elbow, head facing the table and used their right hand for food. So for those of you who have read the Da Vinci Code, here Leonardo Da Vinci, great painter or not, was wrong.

So as they were reclining, that meant that the disciple whom Jesus loved (v.22) would have been on Jesus' right hand side, and when he leant back to speak to Jesus, he would have placed his head against Jesus.

Similarly, we can guess that Peter was not on either side of Jesus, as he had to ask his question to Jesus through someone else. Later, we'll try and guess who was there, but it’s likely that Peter was at the end of the opposite end, so to speak.

Back to that phrase – en de nux – it was night. John is a beautifully creative writer, carefully choosing words and phrases and this phrase is full of meaning. It is indeed a double-edged stage direction.

Physically, it was dark - night had fallen. The Passover meal was always taken after sundown, just as the early Israelites had in Egypt, having their last hurried meal before the Exodus the next morning. The family or friends gathered together to celebrate no later than just before sundown and sat down, or reclined, to eat after dark. In this way, the timing f the meal closely imitated that of their Israelite ancestors in Egypt.

Spiritually it was dark – metaphorically spiritual night or darkness had fallen upon the earth. When there is an absence of light, evil can reign and evil leads to sin. It was the darkest night of Jesus' journey, the ultimate betrayal by a close friend, the injustice of a sham trial, the agony of a cruel death and, dare we say, the triumph of Satan – the Son of God destroyed, his divine mission in tatters, darkness and hopelessness victorious.

But such profound thinking was at that time lost on the disciples. When Jesus prophesied that one of them would betray him (v.21), they didn't know what he meant. Even Peter wanted clarification (v.24).

Lost again were the disciples, when Jesus tells Judas to go and do his work. The disciples still think Judas is one with them, off on some pre-arranged job for Jesus (v.28, 29). The symbolism of the night – its darkness and depth of darkness – was as yet lost on them.

We can only guess what was going through the mind of Judas, what fear of being found out when Jesus bluntly prophesied about his work that night:-
While they were eating, [Jesus] said, "I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me." (Matt 26:21).

And Judas replies to Jesus' question, just like the other disciples, "Surely not I, Rabbi?" (Matt 26:25) – unwilling to admit openly his guilt, daring to believe that no-one knew his turncoat spirit.

And later, when Judas accepts the piece of bread from Jesus (v.26), he accepts what is obviously a gift of friendship from Jesus and yet walks away - fully under the control of Satan, into the night (v.30).

But Jesus knew what was happening; the Son of God had full knowledge of the circumstances surrounding the next few hours' events. His destiny was writ large in heaven, and he on earth knew that destiny, but of course unknown to everyone else on earth.

And yet, even in this the darkest of nights for him, Jesus still offered love and mercy, compassion and friendship to Judas.

Jesus gave Judas the place of honour at the table. If we know that they were reclining on couches or cushions and that the disciple whom Jesus loved was on Jesus' right hand side, then who was on Jesus' left hand side?

Well, he needed to be able to give the bread to Judas with ease (v.26, 27). In fact, when Judas said, "Surely not I, Rabbi?" (in Matt. 26), Jesus replied, "Yes, it is you." And it seems that the other disciples did not hear the comment, so we can judge that Judas must have been close by, on Jesus’ left hand side.

And the place of honour would be to sit on the left hand side of the host, who on this occasion was the Rabbi or teacher of the group, Jesus – and this was the side towards which the host could most easily turn and speak. So Jesus was on the right hand of that person. And Jesus gave this place to Judas, offering him such an honour, offering him the hand of friendship, and through this gesture offering him the hope of repentance and reconciliation. But Judas departed and it was night.

Not only did Jesus offer the place of honour to Judas, but he also made a prophecy to prompt Judas into changing his mind (v.18, 19). In this way, Jesus indirectly challenged Judas to come clean and accept the proffered olive branch – a sort of "It's a fair cop, guv."

But no, for remember what Judas replied, "Surely not I, Rabbi?" and the prophecy and quote from Scripture by which to prompt repentance became but another rejected offer by Judas, an offer granted by Jesus to help Judas repent and ask forgiveness. And Judas departed, into the night.

So three times Jesus offered to win Judas back into the fold. Not just once, not twice, but three times Jesus reached out the hand of friendship to restore Judas.

He offered him the place of honour, he offered him a chance to repent, and now, the last scene with Judas in that upper room, Jesus offered Judas the privilege of receiving bread from the host - a mark of special favour (v.26, 27).

For one last lingering moment Judas’ destiny hung in the balance - the love of Jesus reached out to this dark-filled heart a third time. But the moment was no sooner present than it was gone, and Judas, in one final act of defiance closed his heart to the light of the world, and turned away into the darkness - and it was night.

Judas is such an awesome warning to all of us. Even at the gates of heaven, it is possible to turn away. Even in the presence of God, it is possible to turn away. The love of Jesus can reach out once, twice, three times with compassion and mercy – his grace all sufficient even for the foulest of sins – yet his love can be rejected.

Judas' example points us to the fearful truth that to refuse the light is to choose darkness, where no light will ever shine again.

The story of Judas puts paid to that old excuse that says, "If only I had been there, when Jesus was on earth, seen his miracles, heard his teaching and experienced his personal invitation, then of course I would have committed my life to him."

Judas was there, he saw, he heard, he experienced ... and he went out, into the night.

It wasn't Jesus who turned away from Judas; it's never Jesus who turns away from us. He never gives up loving us so much, again and again and again, and it is a love that takes him to the cross, for our sakes and leaves us with a meal – a perpetual reminder of that his precious death:-

My Lord, what love is this
that pays so dearly,
that I, the guilty one,
may go free!
Amazing love, O what sacrifice,
the Son of God given for me.
My debt he pays,
and my death he dies,
that I might live, that I might live.