Barabbas

Barabbas
“Then he released for them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, delivered him to be crucified.”- Matthew 27:26
 
There is a song by contemporary Christian artist Josiah Queen entitled “I am Barabbas.” In the song, Barabbas wonders out loud how this could have happened. How could he, an insurrectionist and a murderer, be free, while an innocent itinerant preacher is about to be crucified? It’s a good question. And of course, the whole point is that it’s a question we should all ask ourselves. As we stand here, between Palm Sunday and Good Friday, between the celebratory entry into Jerusalem and the horror-yet-wonder of the cross, it’s worth pondering. How, indeed, can it be?
 
The story of Barabbas is incomplete, if anything in the Scriptures can be called that. We know nothing about him before or after the crucifixion. Did he return to a life of crime? Did he witness the crucifixion and become a convert? Did he spend the rest of his life guilt-ridden and confused? We cannot know. But the story is there for a reason. I was honestly just a few-weeks-ago old when I discovered (I should have figured this out long ago) that the name Barabbas literally means “son of the father.” I’m not sure how I’ve missed it all these years. It’s the sort of thing that fascinates me about the Word. When I mentioned it to my seventh-grade Bible class the other day, one girl’s mouth literally fell open and she exclaimed, “How can anybody think the Bible is made up?” How, indeed. So, the picture is that of the earthly, very imperfect son of the father who was replaced by the perfect Son of the Heavenly Father.
 
Barabbas is us; he is you and he is me. He is every sinner whose place on that cross was taken by Christ. Growing up, I was often asked in Sunday school to draw comparisons between myself and the angry crowd, myself and the thief on the cross, but never myself and Barabbas. I have no idea why. It was common for preachers and teachers to remind us that those of us who are sinners saved by grace are typed over and over again throughout all of Scripture. So common, in fact, that it lost a bit of its impact until I got older and understood more fully.
 
So here in these few days, as we hang between the triumph and the tragedy of Holy Week, we do well to remember with sadness and repentance: we are the thief, we are the people in that crowd, we are every single person who needs the mercy and grace of Jesus for our redemption.
 
We are Barabbas.
Amen.