
I wonder where Barabbas is this morning?
A bit of an unlikely character.
He’d no idea his name would become notoriously etched in holy script.
How many criminals and traitors, justly or unjustly charged, must have passed through Roman prison cells and swinging doors?
I wonder if Barabbas encountered Jesus.
I’m not enough of a historian to have a picture in my head for what the size or layout of the prison in Pilate’s region may have looked like.
Were prisoners shoved together? Kept separate? Could they see others passing by to appear before Pilate? Would whispers have trickled down like “Pilate is washing his hands” “Pilate tried to release him.”
Had Barabbas given up hope for a life beyond prison? For even a life?
Did Barabbas realize the weighty cost of redemption? Did he even comprehend the redemption who stepped into his place? And in his case, not once, but twice, quite literally.
I wonder where Barabbas is this morning.
Yesterday morning, imprisoned.
This morning, waking up freed.
Was Barabbas really freed? It all depends, I think, on whether he really saw Jesus.
Did he meet his eyes and realize?
Pen and ink tell us of two other criminals who weren’t released. They appear on either side of Jesus. One encounters Him with recognition, one with derision.
And I wonder where Barabbas is this morning.
Because the truth is, the Jesus I love and embrace, I also too often neglect to comprehend. To really feel what it means to have Him step into my place.
I’m free, yet some days live imprisoned.
Did radical change follow Barabbas or did he simply step back into his band of radicals?
And I kinda can’t ignore the crowd of people yesterday who shouted their desire for the release of Barabbas, a man known for crimes, and their further vehemence to crucify Jesus, in whom no guilt could be found.
And it seems like these many years later, humanity still confuses who to embrace and where hope and truth are found.
I daily need His grace splashed liberally across my life. I daily need to look up and see that creaking prison door swung open wide, the veil torn in two on the other side.
I see Barabbas stumbling out into the daylight.
I feel Jesus beckoning his heart. Whispering, “Barabbas, oh Barabbas. I’d take your place even if you were the only one.”
“________________, oh dear one, I’d take your place if you were the only one.”
And I wonder where Barabbas is this morning?
