‘Now at the feast he used to release for them one prisoner for whom they asked. And among the rebels in prison, who had committed murder in the insurrection, there was a man called Barabbas.’
Mark 15:6-7
It’s early in the morning in a First Century jail cell in Jerusalem. It’s small, unfurnished, and basic, with early sunshine catching the dusty air as it slants through barred windows.
The inmate in this cell is notorious. He is a revolutionary, thrown into prison for taking part in an uprising against the occupying Romans. His crime was murder — killing in an attempted revolt. He was a hero according to Jewish revolutionaries, and a condemned criminal according to the state. I imagine him as a prisoner with a defiant swagger, aware of his celebrity cult on the outside.
Prison life is usually highly predictable. But today, crowds can be heard gathering and shouting in the city. There is a palpable tension in the air, beyond what would normally be expected, even at a festival as major as the Passover.
And then, it happens. A guard comes to the cell, opens the door, and says,
“Barabbas, time’s up. The governor has set you free.”
Today’s reading includes pretty much all we know about Barabbas. We don’t know what happened to him next, or what he later felt as he found out who he had traded place with. We can only assume that, on that tense morning in Jerusalem, he had no idea that he would go down in history as the guy who got released instead of the Messiah.
And yet, there are some strange connections between Jesus and Barabbas.
Barabbas was a revolutionary. Pilate’s question to Jesus, ‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ was trying to search out whether Jesus has similar revolutionary intentions. Barabbas was a threat to the occupying Romans, looking to drive their occupation out by force in the hope of establishing an independent Jewish kingdom.
Barabbas had a significant name. Barabbas itself means ‘Son of Abba’ — ‘Son of the Father’. Jesus, just a page before, prayed to His ‘Abba’ in Gethsemane. The true Son of the Father took the place of Barabbas. Closer still, many early manuscripts of Matthew’s Gospel call Barabbas ‘Jesus Barabbas’.1 The name Jesus describes a ‘saviour,’ maybe pointing to Barabbas being viewed as a saviour figure through his revolutionary efforts.
These strange similarities emphasise the starkness of the choice before the people.
A militant revolutionary, who uses the methodology of force and anger and murder to force another flawed form of government. He appeals to a people who are angry and frustrated, choosing the temporary satisfaction of vengeance and the compromised methodology of a different government built on violence and power.
Or the peasant rabbi, whose Kingdom was not primarily confronting that of Rome, but the underlying kingdoms of darkness that fed into all human pain and darkness — including both the toxic power schemas of Rome and the the dead religion of the Jewish leaders. His enemy was different, looking to liberate a people from the forces of sin, the devil and death itself, that the flowing life of God could overspill a redeemed humanity into the regeneration of the entire world.
What would they choose?
What would save them?
The quick fix, using violence to fight violence, anger to fight anger, and greater hatred to contend hate?
Or something deeper, purer, whose methodology was unfathomably humble? Who fought violence with surrender and hatred with indescribable love?
Jesus or Barabbas?
The choice is always familiar, in the mighty big decisions, and in the small day-to-day ones.
The way of Barabbas. The way that looks for angry solutions to problems of anger, and control as a way of dealing with our vulnerabilities. The way of revenge and retribution and violence and force.
Or, the Way of our Messiah, who meets violence with surrender, and anger with love, and violent force with forceful love.
Where do we choose?
On social media. In the staff room. In our marriages. In our cars. On the way to the shops. With our kids. With our families and with our friends.
Day by day, we find ourselves in that noisy crowd.
What will save us?
Barabbas, or Jesus?
We choose.
Reflect:
The way of force and violence, or the way of love and humility.
Where do I face this choice right now?
What can I do?
What do I need to pray for?
Pray:
Father,
When surrounded by angry words,
And violent acts,
And revolutionary cries,
I can get caught up in the crowd.
I can pick a side and start shouting,
Unaware that my methodology
Looks more like hell than heaven.
And so, Father,
I again surrender to your way.
Help me, amidst all the noise and fear,
To be slow enough to see
Jesus:
Standing, looking, inviting, leading,
That I may join Him in the paths of the Kingdom:
Lower; slower; gentler; wiser.
By His power, and His Way,
May kindness and wisdom,
Humility and love,
Slowly, beautifully,
Imperceptibly,
Cause hell to fall,
And the life of eternity to break in,
Through the power of my crucified Lord Jesus.
In His Name,
Amen
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
1 Samuel 29-31 | Psalm 61
See Matthew 27:16-17. The NIV, GNB, and NRSV all include this longer name, emphasising the distinction between ‘Jesus Barabbas’ and ‘Jesus the Christ (Messiah)’