
Why Does Betrayal Shatter Us So Deeply?
Betrayal crushes us, because real relationships are built on trust. Real friendship is grounded in the solid bedrock of steady faithfulness we can count on through thick and thin. When we trust someone, we take a risk. We hand over to them something of ourselves deep within. We become vulnerable. If our trust is then violated, it isn’t just our plans that get changed. Our hearts get broken. It couldn’t be more personal—and sharply felt.
The Bible helps us understand why so much is at stake in these bonds we form together. We are not trivial beings, not the way God created us. And the glory of it all shines most brightly in our relationships—or it should, anyway. Scripture shows us the way-down-deep glory, the divine glory, in faithful human relationships. We see it again and again in one of the Bible’s central themes: covenant.
For example, the preface to the whole Bible is Genesis 1–11. There God says to Noah, “I will establish my covenant with you” (Gen. 6:18). What was God doing by saying that? He was committing himself. He didn’t have to. Nobody even asked him to. But God got involved—willingly, sincerely. He obligated himself, so that he couldn’t back out, no matter what it would cost him.1 Why would God stick his neck out like that? Because he cares. He really does care about this train-wreck world. And he’s committed to taking us all the way, to where our happiness will never end.
Rock-solid covenantal faithfulness—God sums up the beauty of it when he says to us, as he does repeatedly, “I will be your God, and you will be my people” (see Gen. 17:7; Ex. 6:7; etc.). In other words, “Here is my solemn promise to you, always and forever. I will be God to you—for all that God is worth. And you will be my people—my own dear ones. We will always be together, whatever it costs me.” And here is my point. Doing life together in that covenantal way is the big, wraparound category for everything else in the whole Bible (Gal. 3:15–29). It is the key insight into the God-defined reality we are living in.
Here’s why I think that’s amazing. Covenant means that we’ve parachuted into a universe where Ultimate Reality is not politics, not even physics, but relationships—personal, lasting, beautiful relationships of promises made and promises kept. It’s who God is, and who God made us to be. Other gods aren’t covenantal. “The idea of a covenant between a deity and a people is unknown to us from other religions and cultures.”2 Covenant living is uniquely Christian. And if a covenant-keeping God created us to be covenant-keeping people together, then violating trust is not only the betrayal of a friend. It is a stab in God’s back.
Let’s all admit how we’ve let others down. But part of God’s covenant with us is to help us even there. He promises to create in us new hearts that will do the right thing, no matter what (Jer. 31:31–34).
The bottom line is this. Covenantal relationships of commitment and trust are not a human invention we can modify for our convenience. The beauty of costly faithfulness is a divine gift worthy of our reverence. Covenantal living is essential to human flourishing. We live together in community by making promises and keeping promises. God dignifies all our relationships with one another with covenantal dynamics.
Here’s how practical it gets. When I walk into a room, in that moment I literally owe everyone there my best. And they owe me their best. We aren’t always good at it. But let’s be clear in our resolve to be faithful to one another, by God’s grace. The essence of our beauty together is a “you can count on me” vulnerability.
When your trust was violated, you weren’t crazy to feel how much was really on the line. Something truly worthy was being trashed. Keeping our word with one another glorifies God and honors people. But betrayal is living hell.
Somewhere I heard Jordan Peterson point out that, in Dante’s Inferno, the deepest level of hell is reserved for treacherous people guilty of betrayal. And their hell is not a lake of fire but of ice. One Dante scholar explains: “This is Dante’s symbolic equivalent of the final guilt. The treacheries of these souls were denials of love and of all human warmth. Only the remorseless dead center of the ice will serve to express their natures.”3 No wonder you found betrayal utterly chilling. What came after you was seriously evil.
There is only one thing more costly than giving our hearts away. And that is not giving our hearts away at all.
There is only one thing more costly than giving our hearts away. And that is not giving our hearts away at all. In his classic work The Four Loves, C. S. Lewis helps us see the alternatives always before us:
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.4
Thank you for giving your heart away. Even though your trust was broken, still, you stepped into covenant. You did the Christlike thing. Way to go! The Lord will honor you for staying true to him when it was costly.
This is the message that you have heard from the beginning, that we should love one another. We should not be like Cain, who was of the evil one and murdered his brother. And why did he murder him? Because his own deeds were evil and his brother’s righteous. (1 John 3:11–12)
Maybe you weren’t perfect in that covenant relationship. But you were Christian. In fact, that was your crime. It was your integrity that made you someone’s sacrificial lamb.
Notes:
- Bruce K. Waltke, An Old Testament Theology: An Exegetical, Canonical, and Thematic Approach (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2007), 287: “Covenant means ‘a solemn commitment of oneself to undertake an obligation.’ ”
- Moishe Weinfeld, “be rith,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 90 (1970): 278, quoted in Waltke, An Old Testament Theology, 148.
- Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy: Inferno, trans. John Ciardi (New York: Modern Library, 1996), 270.
- C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves (New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, 1960), 169.
This article is adapted from Good News at Rock Bottom: Finding God When the Pain Goes Deep and Hope Seems Lost by Ray Ortlund.
Related Articles

6 Ingredients of True Friendship
What essential ingredients do we mix together to make true friendship?

10 Key Bible Verses on Friendship
Oil and perfume make the heart glad, and the sweetness of a friend comes from his earnest counsel. Do not forsake your friend and your father’s friend . . .

An Open Letter to Anyone Who’s Hit Rock Bottom
If you’ve hit rock bottom, you know one thing for sure. It’s horrible. I know it too. You’re not alone. Jesus is down here, and he welcomes you.

4 Guiding Principles for Cultivating Friendship
It may be true that you are too busy for friends. But that doesn’t mean you should be. We always make time for what we treasure.