"Personalities of the Passion -- Barabbas, 'He took my place'"

Background: Barabbas became an personality of the passion through Jewish law that allowed a prisoner to be set free during the feast of the Passover. In this case, Barabbas was traded for Jesus and Jesus was put to death. We know nothing about Barabbas, except tthe charge of murder. He is mentioned in all four gospels. Mark mentions his name in such a way that we might think that he was fairly well known.
Tonight we get to hear from Barabbas from the fictional manuscript of a lecture given to the alumni of Jewish Theological Seminary about 35 ad.

Alumni, friends, guests: Thank you for the invitation to speak tonight.

I am Barabbas, murderer, thief, and insurrectionist. I was set free and Jesus took my place on one of the three crosses.

My full name is Jesus Barabbas. Barabbas is my “last name” if you will. I am a son of my father. That’s what the name means, Bar (son of) Abba (“Father”). I’m a chip off the old block. My father named me Jesus, meaning “salvation”, because he dreamed that one day I would see the salvation of Israel.

Our family has been part of the religious group called “Zealots” for generations, further back than you care to hear about. For us, salvation would be the deliverance of Israel from the sins of the Roman occupation. It just doesn’t fit that after having been freed from the sins of the Egyptians, we should now be slaves to the Romans. All the sub-groups of Judaism are anti-Rome. But our group, the Zealots, is the most nationalistic. We support guerilla war against the Romans and promote insurrection and rebellion.

From the time I was born, then, you see, I was destined to fight for the salvation of my people. While many of my childhood friends were Bar Mitzvah (sons of the law). I was Bar Chereb, (son of the sword).

At the time of my arrest for murder and insurrection (a revolt against the Romans), I was 27. I had been an active Zealot for some 15 years and had robbed and murdered too many to count.

From the moment of my arrest, I knew my days were numbered. I would not be set free. I would die by hanging on a cross. But at least I would die for the cause. I might even help bring the end of the Roman occupation. I could live up to my name, Jesus (Savior).
My trial was brief. Pilate didn’t hesitate a moment before he declared, “Death! By crucifixion.” He sentenced two others with me. I had grown up with them. We had lived a life of crime and insurrection. Now we were all sentenced to the same fate, death.

We were awaiting our death march when I first saw the one called “Jesus of Nazareth.” I had heard of him ... Who hadn't? But I had never seen him.

I did know some of his followers, fishermen, able and tough – they might have helped our cause and we sure could have used them. Simon was a Zealot, like us, until he followed the Nazarene. Judas was someone who might have helped us. He would have made a good spy, but few of us trusted him and I doubt he had the courage to really do what had to be done.

From what I had heard, I wanted no part of Jesus. His way was different than mine. He talked about love and forgiveness. Come on. Peace could never come this way. The only thing the Romans understood was hatred and brute force.

Even though it was early morning when they brought him in, there was urgency in the air. Being that it was Friday and the Passover, things had to run their course by sundown, the beginning of the Sabbath after which no one could work.

The best I could figure out was that the Nazarene had run afoul of the Jewish priests and religious leaders. Of course it didn’t take much to be on the outs with those hypocrites. Their teaching was every bit as much enslaving as the Romans

As time passed, I learned that Jesus had been before Pilate who, sensing what the priests were up to, found no guilt in him. He had sent Jesus to Herod, hoping Herod would relieve him of the responsibility. As usual, Herod could be counted on to do nothing that didn't further his selfish pretense of being the King of Israel. Some king!! He jumps at the sound of his wife's voice and ultimately he murdered the Baptist at her bidding. John, I liked him. In a different time, I might have followed him.

Anyway, I began to hear the crowds. They were yelling, “Crucify him! Crucify him!!" Then they shouted, “Give us Barabbas! Give us Barabbas!” I recalled that there was a tradition of releasing a prisoner for Passover. Maybe Pilate thought it as a way to free an innocent man. Do you want a murderer living in your midst, or this iterant preacher? Surely, they would want the man of peace and love.

Apparently not. It wasn’t long before the Centurion came and unlocked my cell. Without a word led me outside and shoved me into the street. "You're free! Be gone before someone changes their mind!"

What on earth had happened? I was free but why? I couldn't believe it.

As I listened to the soldiers shouting. As I heard the whips cracking. As the crowd noise grew, it dawned on me what was happening. It was the death march. It was Jesus and my two buddies carrying their crosses to Golgotha. The death march always drew a crowd.

Then it hit me. He was going to die in my place. I was the one who should have been in the death march. By some strange twist of fate, the innocent Jesus will die while I, a murderer and sinner, goes free.

I know you are familiar with the story but you have no way of comprehending the horror. I was deeply troubled by the sight of those three men in the death march. I belonged there. And yet I was saved.

After it was over, I went back to my friends. I planned to take up where I left off. Jerusalem was not free and I, Jesus Barabbas, would fight to make her free. But somehow I had lost my passion for the cause.

Instead I went out to that hill where the three were crucified. The bodies of course were gone but the crosses and signs of death remained. In fact, I went back there almost daily. I was really bothered by the thought that three men died here and I should have been one of them. It troubled me that I should have been on that cross, not Jesus of Nazareth. Who was he really?

I recalled that some said he was Jesus, Son of God. Do you get the irony? Here I am, Jesus, Son of the Father – free though deserving of death. Here he is Jesus, Son of God, crucified in my place. I know it is a play on words, but the fact remains, he knew no sin and was made to take my place so that I could be set free in spite of my sins.

Let me just say this. Once I was an insurrection man. Now, though, I am a resurrection man. He died for me, as he died for you. He died for my insurrection, even as he died for your insurrection – your rebellion that comes from sin. We’re all rebellious in that way, you know. But his resurrection took care of all of that. His resurrection counqured it all.

Thank you for attending tonights' lecture.

Good Night.