[Music] Amen. You turn with me in your Bibles, please, to the Gospel of Matthew chapter 27, beginning at verse 11.
Now Jesus stood before the governor, and the governor asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” And Jesus said, “You have said so.” But when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he gave no answer. Then Pilate said to him, “Do you not hear how many things they testify against you?” But he gave him no answer, not even to a single charge, so that the governor was greatly amazed.
Now at the feast, the governor was accustomed to release for the crowd any one prisoner whom they wanted. And they had a notorious prisoner called Barabbas. So when they had gathered, Pilate said to them, “Whom do you want me to release for you, Barabbas or Jesus who is called Christ?” For he knew that it was out of envy that they had delivered him up. Besides, while he was sitting on the judgment seat, his wife sent word to him, “Have nothing to do with that righteous man, for I have suffered much because of him today in a dream.”
Now the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and destroy Jesus. The governor again said to them, “Which of the two do you want me to release for you?” And they said, “Barabbas.” Pilate said to them, “Then what shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” They all said, “Let him be crucified.” And he said, “Why? What evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Let him be crucified.”
So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” And all the people answered, “His blood be on us and on our children.” Then he released for them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, delivered him to be crucified.
This is the word of the Lord. Thanks be to God. Let us pray.
Lord, help us to endure the horrors that Jesus suffered because he suffered them for us. Let us not turn our face away but to see them for what they are, to see the love of Jesus through them all for us. Help us to hear you speak and open our hearts to receive you. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.
Now I expect that the story of Jesus and Barabbas is a somewhat unfamiliar yet still familiar story for most of us. We will encounter it during our personal devotional reading every year if that’s our habit. We might encounter it sometime during Holy Week, hearing it mentioned in passing as only one element of the story of Jesus’s trial, suffering, execution, and resurrection. But that is not always guaranteed. The story feels unusual and seems strange because it sounds counterintuitive to us and maybe even unreasonable.
The story also contains elements and details which have been considered controversial in the past. There’s an interesting issue related to textual or manuscript criticism, and the other more grievous concern here has been used to justify extreme acts of anti-Semitism by Christians in history. However, the manuscript issue does not change the story nor even add anything substantive to it. And while the other concern may be a valid interpretation, anti-Semitism is never justified, just as any ethnocentric discrimination or hatred is never justified, because it’s contrary to the law of love taught by Jesus: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
And the demolishing of social boundaries such as this within our union—“In him there is neither Jew nor Greek, neither slave nor free, neither male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”
So although we might gloss over it, this story is important for our understanding of Jesus’s sacrificial work on the cross. And while this may seem like a story telling us about the greatest act of injustice imaginable, it is actually a story of justice and mercy. This is the visual representation of the doctrine of penal substitutionary atonement. This story lays the foundation for our hope of redemption, of our hope for justification, and our future resurrection in the name of Jesus Christ.
Therefore, we shall examine three things today: the person of Barabbas, the arc of the story itself, and what he in this story teaches and means for us in Christ Jesus.
Now there are many different characters who appear briefly and then disappear from the Gospel narratives, but the shortness of their appearance rarely reflects the degree of their importance. Because sometimes those who appear on stage for the least amount of time contribute to the most important points of our faith. Men like Nicodemus, Joseph of Arimathea, Simon of Cyrene, or even Pontius Pilate—each of the men I just named carried a known degree of importance into the early church. Nicodemus was an influential Pharisee and follower of Christ. Joseph was a respected member of the Sanhedrin and a follower of Christ. Simon was the father of Alexander and Rufus, two Christians familiar to the early church in Rome and referenced by the Apostle Paul. And Pilate, of course, is remembered for his role in the death of Jesus.
Within the Apostles’ Creed, his known historical time of service helps us to date Jesus’s death, and his presence connects Jesus’s story with the wider history of the world. Yet while the man Barabbas played no known significant or personal role in church history beyond this appearance, his importance cannot be understood, for in many ways Barabbas represents us. It is usually bad interpretive form for us to identify ourselves as most characters in the Bible narratives, but we may fairly say, each of us, “I am Barabbas,” affirming that Barabbas represents every believing Christian within the crucifixion story.
What does Scripture tell us about who Barabbas was? Matthew calls him a notorious prisoner. Mark and Luke call him a rebel, an insurrectionist, and a murderer. John calls him a robber. So this guy—I’m saying—is us.
Yeah, right—except he absolutely is. Because every human person, born and unborn, is a sinner, as the Apostle Paul writes, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Every person sins because we are sinners. We are not sinners because we sin. Adam’s original sin in the garden is imputed to each of us, counted against us, making us sinners because the Lord God created him as our first federal head and representative.
Just as many decisions our parents or our grandparents made continue to affect us, Adam’s decision to sin affects us all. As Paul further explains, “Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned.”
But what is sin? The Shorter Catechism answers that question: “Sin is any want of conformity unto or transgression of the law of God.”
While R.C. Sproul further simplifies that answer as “cosmic treason.” We’re all born sinners and we live as rebels and insurrectionists against God’s perfect law. While we remain in our original, unregenerate state, we are justly condemned, guilty of treason against the only Sovereign Lord and the holy creator of the universe.
If you have ever hated someone in your heart or have been unjustly angry with them, then according to Jesus, you are just as bad as a murderer. You’ve heard it said of old, “You shall not murder,” and “whoever murders will be liable to judgment.” But I, Jesus, say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, “You fool!” will be liable to hell of fire.
So also, by the same reasoning, if you’ve ever lusted after someone who is not your spouse, then you are an adulterer. If you’ve ever coveted anything belonging to someone else—not wanting something like what they own but wanting what they actually own or have—then you are a robber.
Thus, we’re all notorious prisoners held captive under the law that permits sin to hold power over us—the power which condemns us all to death.
So it’s very clear to see every one of us is like Barabbas. We are just as bad as he was, if not worse. But although we do not know the particular details of his criminality, we are very confident that he was arrested, tried, and justly condemned by the Roman authorities because that is the Holy Spirit’s testimony within Scripture. Barabbas was imprisoned as he ought to be, and he was going to be executed for his crimes as he ought to be. His execution date was set; he had no opportunity, cause, or grounds for appeal. He had no reason to hope for pardon or to expect any clemency from Pilate. Barabbas was a dead man walking right up until Jesus walked into his life.
Over the previous 24 hours, on the other hand, Jesus had been betrayed by Judas Iscariot and arrested under the cover of darkness by a mad mob while he was praying in a garden on the Mount of Olives. He was hauled before Caiaphas, the high priest, and a group of scribes and elders, where he was illegally and improperly tried during the night. They produced false witnesses and testimony against him, ultimately convicting him of blasphemy for speaking the truth and condemning him to die. He was denied three times by Peter, one of his four closest disciples, as all the rest scattered and hid. He was made to stand before Pilate, the Roman governor, early in the morning and charged with subversion against Rome before Pilate discovered that Jesus should be under the jurisdiction of Herod Antipas.
He was taken to Herod, who interrogated the silent Jesus and whose soldiers ridiculed him before they returned him to Pilate for Roman justice.
This brings us to our present story. Now Jesus stood before the governor, and the governor asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” Jesus said, “You said so.” But when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he gave no answer. Then Pilate said to him, “Do you not hear how many things they testify against you?” But he gave him no answer, not even to a single charge, so that the governor was greatly amazed.
Now this charge alone, if it were proven justified, would have been grounds enough for Pilate to condemn Jesus to death as a rebel or revolutionary like Barabbas. But Pilate apparently possessed wisdom enough to recognize that the Jewish leaders were trying to play him, for he knew that it was out of envy that they had delivered him up, and he recognized that Jesus was innocent of this charge.
So Pilate acted like a creative politician and tried to get himself out of this difficult situation by appealing to their desire for the people’s corporate welfare. Now at the feast, the governor was accustomed to release for the crowd any one prisoner whom they wanted, and they had then a notorious prisoner called Barabbas.
So when they had gathered, Pilate said to them, “Whom do you want me to release for you, Barabbas or Jesus who is called Christ?” Now the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and destroy Jesus.
So there are a few things we need to understand concerning what’s going on here. First, this tradition of releasing a prisoner during Passover is not a commandment of Torah, nor was it likely a common Roman practice because it’s not attested anywhere else—only here in Scripture—suggesting that it may have just been a local custom or even just Pilate’s own personal practice. Regardless, it is something that was within the scope of his authority, and so it was likely a practice he used to engender social and political goodwill. So what Pilate’s offering here—what he offers the people—is not required, requested, deserved, or even expected.
Second, why did he offer to release a man like Barabbas? I mean, the idea of releasing a notorious prisoner such as Barabbas must have seemed odious to the Romans. They would have expected him to return to his criminal and revolutionary activities, forcing them to just recapture and kill him later. Whereas, if he was considered notorious for his criminality by the Jews—being a murderer, a robber, and a social troublemaker and rabble-rouser, as the other Gospels seem to suggest—then he would not have been welcomed back into polite society. I mean, the few details that Scripture provides about him do nothing to suggest that Barabbas was a good or noble Robin Hood-type criminal. Each of the four Gospels makes it pretty clear that he was not a good person, so logically and reasonably no individual or any crowd should have wanted or preferred Barabbas, this dangerous criminal, to Jesus, the itinerant Galilean rabbi. Therefore, Pilate surely hoped and expected to be releasing Jesus.
And third, there’s a significant text variant here. Both the NIV and the NRSV add a word to their translation here because of the manuscripts they use, which the ESV lacks. They both add a given name for Barabbas, transforming Pilate’s question into “Whom do you want me to release for you? Jesus Barabbas or Jesus who is called the Christ?” This suggests that Pilate was offering the crowd their choice of two different Jesuses—shocking, right?
The added name is found in manuscripts that date back to the early church father, Origen, but they are few and disputed. The appearance is attributed to a scribal duplication error; but while it is possible that Barabbas might have been named Jesus, since it was a popular and common name during the period, the additional irony of them sharing a name is unnecessary because the juxtaposition of Barabbas and Christ highlights the people’s choice enough.
Christ means the Anointed of God, a term that Peter connects to the title, Son of God, during his profession near Caesarea Philippi, whereas Barabbas meant “son of the father.” Thus, Barabbas’ name was competing against Jesus’s popular titles of Son of Man, Son of David, Son of God, and his knowledge of the personal practice of calling God “Father.”
This Pilate offered the people the ironic choice of granting freedom and his Roman pardon to either the son of the father, or the Son of God. Because he expected them to choose the rabbi over the revolutionary, but instead the leaders persuaded the crowd to choose the violent criminal.
Perhaps doubting his ears and not comprehending the answer he’d received, Pilate again asked who they wanted, and they said, “Barabbas.” But now, since Pilate had fallen into the trap of mob rule, of democratic justice, he asked them, “What should be done with Jesus?”
Pilate said to them, “What shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” They all said, “Let him be crucified.” And he said, “Why? What evil has he done?” They shouted all the more, “Let him be crucified.”
Luke tells us a bit more about this moment, explaining that Pilate believed Jesus was innocent of any crime deserving death. However, even though he believed Jesus was guiltless of any legal transgression, the cruel Pilate handed him over for punishment regardless. He had him flogged, hoping perhaps that the display of violence and blood would satisfy the angry mob.
Next, after his scourging, John tells us that Jesus was dressed in a robe, crowned with thorns, and presented to the people, writing, “So Jesus came out wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe.” Pilate said to them, “Behold the man!” When the chief priests and officers saw him, they cried out, “Crucify him! Crucify him!”
Finally, after declaring the innocence of Jesus, Pilate gave in to the mob’s demands. So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” Then he released for them Barabbas and, having scourged Jesus, delivered him to be crucified.
This story is horrific, and it is tragic. It is unfair and unjust from our human perspective. Listening to this story, every fiber of our being should cry out, “That’s not right!” Yet it was necessary to the divine economy for our redemption, and it happened according to the ineffable will and decree of the Lord.
But before we begin to entertain sinful notions about cosmic child abuse or think that God is evil and cruel, we must remember that before we could be forgiven, our debt of sin needed to be paid. And because we could not pay it and live, we needed a substitute.
So since our lives could only be redeemed and paid for by a death, Jesus purchased the lives of the elect with his death according to the covenant of redemption made between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. God the Father decreed this, while God the Son willingly submitted himself to this, choosing to suffer it out of love for the elect, assenting to this before the foundation of the world, as God the Holy Spirit applies the benefit of this to us through our regeneration, justification, sanctification, and our expected glorification.
So you see, this story is not as simple as it seems at first. But what was really going on here in the midst of Pilate’s political mess, and what does it mean for us?
Several important things were happening: Jesus was rejected by the Jews who denied his authority and kingship over Israel, preferring Roman rule to God’s. Then Jesus was crowned and acclaimed as king of the Jews by the Romans, by the soldiers as they clothed him and crowned him and hailed him as king, plus by Pilate’s verbal pronouncement and by the authority of his written declaration publicly hung upon the cross above him. So the world rightly acknowledged the lordship of Jesus Christ while God’s chosen people denied it, leading to the expansion of God’s chosen people to include now the Gentiles—us.
As much as John the Baptist declared Jesus to be the perfect unblemished, sinless Lamb of God, Pilate proclaimed Jesus innocent of transgressing human law, affirming Christ’s righteousness and declaring him justified before men. And although Pilate absolved himself of legal responsibility for Jesus’s death, the affirmation of the people, “His blood be on us and our children,” is something that has led to countless human tragedies. It has been wrongly used to justify calling Jews “Christ killers” and as justification for forced relocation, discrimination, persecution, and execution.
Some people will argue and claim that this was an assumption of blood guiltiness upon the whole Jewish people then and ever after, as a justification for their eternal condemnation. Something that Scripture and I expressly deny. But I will argue and admit that the interpretation of this expression is very difficult and requires great care. It is not clear what it all means; it is uncertain, and I have not found another Scripture that illuminates it any better. So I believe it’s best consigned to the mystery of our faith since it’s not used as the foundation for any necessary Christian doctrine or any loving application.
Then finally, the strangest thing of all—Pilate pardons and frees the guilty man Barabbas while he condemns and commands the execution of the innocent Jesus Christ. Giving grace and mercy to one and justice to the other. But where is the justice in all this? It is there, but we need the Holy Spirit’s wisdom and understanding to see it.
Barabbas received grace and mercy because Jesus received justice. He received the justice that was due to Barabbas as a substitute. We receive grace and mercy because Jesus received justice. He received the justice that is due to us. Yet how can we claim that Jesus received justice when he alone, out of all humanity, deserved mercy?
Was this not injustice? This was not unjust because it was Jesus’s choice. It’s part of the covenant he made with the Father. See, Jesus received justice that day, but it wasn’t the justice he deserved. He got that the third day upon his resurrection when he was raised to life again and proven justified before the Lord God, the Father. Jesus received our justice that day—Barabbas’s justice—because he was our willing substitute, our actual substitute.
That’s how Barabbas triumphed, how we are triumphant. We triumph through Jesus’s death and resurrection. Barabbas was condemned to die for his crimes until Jesus came into his life. Roman justice was swift; his guilt was sure, and his execution was imminent.
Although Pilate put the question to the mob, Jesus offered no defense and stood silent. He was oppressed and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth, like a lamb that is led to the slaughter and like a sheep that before it shears is silent—so he opened not his mouth. Silence was the sign of his consent, but the people chose freedom for Barabbas and crucifixion for Jesus.
Barabbas was pardoned and led away to freedom while Jesus was condemned and led away to his death. By oppression and judgment he was taken away, and as for his generation, who considered that he was cut off from the land of the living, stricken for the transgression of my people?
Jesus took up the cross that had previously been set aside for Barabbas and carried it along with all the guilt, shame, and sin of the elect down the long and painful road to Calvary. Then Jesus died the death that Barabbas deserved. But remember, Jesus was also carrying our sin, our guilt, and our just condemnation, so Jesus also died the death which we all deserve for our cosmic treason against our heavenly Father.
Jesus was Barabbas’s substitute in every way. Jesus is our substitute who freely offered himself as the perfect sacrifice of our atonement by himself as our high priest. Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief. When his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring, he shall prolong his days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand. Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied. By his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities.
See, the cross was God’s eternal decree; this was plan A because there is no plan B. Jesus bore our sins upon the cross and offered his life for ours. He accounts us as righteous, just as he was accounted as numbered with the transgressors. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities. Upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds, we are healed. Our debt of sin was satisfied.
But Jesus’s death is only the beginning of the good news. Jesus rose from the dead on the third day, the first day of the week, rising vindicated. He is risen. Jesus’s death and resurrection prove that our sin is gone. Jesus’s death and resurrection give us the confidence to trust that one day we will also be raised in a resurrection like his. Jesus’s death and resurrection prove that we have been pardoned and that we have been freed from our bondage to sin.
Jesus suffered justice for our worst so that we would enjoy the grace of his best. But what about Barabbas, and what about us? We cannot know, but I expect that Jesus of Nazareth or Jesus Christ was a name that Barabbas had heard here or there around in Judea. Jesus was rather well-known by the end of his three-year ministry. However, Barabbas probably did not know much about Jesus or even care much about him, given the justification for his imprisonment.
But Jesus still came into his life, uninvited, unwanted, changing it forever. Three days later, on the morning of the third day, the first day of the week, Barabbas woke up alive and well instead of being dead and decomposing on a trash heap.
We do not know if Barabbas ever came to faith in Jesus Christ as his savior. We cannot know if the Holy Spirit regenerated him, transformed him, and sanctified him over the next few days or years. But even still, I cannot imagine that he left his encounter with Jesus unchanged. Everyone who meets Jesus is given the same opportunity as Barabbas: be returned to your old life as if nothing has happened, or be given a new life and be transformed.
So if you’ve had an encounter with Jesus Christ, if you have met him—even if for only the most fleeting moment—then I beg you to listen to his call and answer. When you see Jesus standing there looking at you with love in his eyes, carrying the burden of all your guilt and sin, and you hear him say to you, “I’ve got this,” then I hope you fall on your knees and say, “Thank you,” and give God glory for your salvation.
I hope you get up, pick up his cross, and follow him on the way into freedom and life. Jesus said, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Jesus carried and bore your burden on the cross once for all time, so go to him. Take up the yoke of his burden because it is far lighter than your own ever was or could be. Jesus loves you so much that he’s taken the burden of your sins away so that you may be changed and so that you will be raised to new life in him.
Jesus took our place on the cross so that we may join him in his place in the kingdom. He is risen! He is risen! Amen.