Sunday, April 1, 2018

Me and Barabbas

Some of you have probably noticed that I have been in a pretty dark place emotionally the past few months.  Exhaustion and a depression that I have always struggled with without really knowing why left me feeling alone and I chose a very bad way to try and make things better.  I sought comfort from a woman at work.  I didn't admit to myself that that is what I was doing and by the time that I couldn't deny it anymore things had gone farther than I should have let them.  Way too far in fact.  By the grace of God the woman had more sense than I did and put a stop to things.

When I was left with no choice but to tell Cheyenne I went to my default solutions, secrets and lies.  I was embarrassed by what I had done and I was scared of what the consequences would be.  It took her a few days to drag the truth out of me and when she did I was shocked at her response.  Grace and forgiveness always leave me staring with a dumb amazement.  She is hurt terribly.  She may never trust me like she did before.  And I know she is still angry.  But her dominant reaction has been to extend as much grace and forgiveness to me as is humanly possible, or maybe more than that.

As we were talking through all of the issues that we have, because it happened during Passion Week, a strange topic came up.  A small incident is buried in the central event in human history and escaped my attention until Chey started telling me about the very subtle but powerful grace seen within.  It seems ridiculous that I never paid any attention to the only man in the world of whom we can say literally and with no ambiguity whatsoever that Jesus Christ died in his place.

From Luke 23 13 Then Pilate, when he had called together the chief priests, the rulers, and the people, said to them, “You have brought this Man to me, as one who misleads the people. And indeed, having examined Him in your presence, I have found no fault in this Man concerning those things of which you accuse Him; no, neither did Herod, for I sent you back to him; and indeed nothing deserving of death has been done by Him.  I will therefore chastise Him and release Him” (for it was necessary for him to release one to them at the feast).
And they all cried out at once, saying, “Away with this Man, and release to us Barabbas”— who had been thrown into prison for a certain rebellion made in the city, and for murder.
Pilate, therefore, wishing to release Jesus, again called out to them. But they shouted, saying, “Crucify Him, crucify Him!”
Then he said to them the third time, “Why, what evil has He done? I have found no reason for death in Him. I will therefore chastise Him and let Him go.”
But they were insistent, demanding with loud voices that He be crucified. And the voices of these men and of the chief priests prevailed. So Pilate gave sentence that it should be as they requested. And he released to them the one they requested, who for rebellion and murder had been thrown into prison; but he delivered Jesus to their will.

The tradition of a pardon being issued in connection with the Passover is only mentioned in the four gospels, so we don't know how it came or how it was perceived either by the Romans or the Jews, but I at least can't help but see a connection between the sparing of the Jewish firstborn remembered in the Passover and the sparing of a prisoner.  Humanity, as represented very ably by Pontius Pilate, is able to imagine the sparing of a good man, one who has no fault deserving of death seems to us like an appropriate recipient of grace, but Divinity, as represented by the chief priests, is determined to show grace to the least worthy recipient available.  Me and Barabbas.


 We have all thought about the incongruity of the innocent Messiah hanging between two thieves but what we usually forget is that there was supposed to be a third thief right in the middle, actually not just a thief but a murder and a leader of rebellion.  We talk about the differences between the two thieves on the two crosses, how one seemed to see the error of his ways and the other never did.  But we don't really have any idea what Barabbas thought about Christ or about himself, or about anything else.  Because the story isn't about Barabbas, and the Gospel isn't about us.  Barabbas didn't have a clever advocate, nothing that he said or did had any affect on the grace that was given to him, and we have no idea what happened to Barabbas afterward.  In fact, we don't even have any idea if Barabbas "accepted" what was done to him, for all we know Barabbas was a true zealot and wished to be a martyr to Jewish independence and the freedom of the Jewish religion from Roman corruption.  If God is going to save the worst sinners then he will have to do it without cooperation from me and Barabbas.

My sins and Barabbas' sins cause tremendous pain, they take us down into darkness and ultimately death.  And the only alternative is for someone else to take that pain, darkness, and death into themselves.  To forgive sin and show grace is a terribly costly choice, it means the good suffers in place of the bad.  When I was explaining Good Friday to Eliyana this week, she told me that she couldn't understand why someone would give their life for someone else, and all that I could tell her is that it will make sense to her someday when she is a mother, but maybe I should have said when she is a wife.  Grace leaves the 99 good sheep to rescue the black sheep.  Love reaches into the blackest pits of sin, depression, and despair to pull out me and Barabbas.

Caedmon's Call-My Only Hope