Give us Barabbas
Two prisoners stood shackled with their heads down. Both were facing execution, yet both were feeling confident. The first man, Jesus, was battered and bloody. He’d been up all night being tortured by the guards as they passed him back and forth. He was exhausted and yet calm as he neared the end of his life.
The second man, Barabbas, had been behind bars for many months. His crime was committing insurrection against the Roman state.
B.A., as they called him, was one of the leading organizers of the Jewish resistance. A cunning and pragmatic man, a warrior, a charismatic leader the people could rally around. He had killed Romans by his own sword and by all accounts should be the one chosen for execution.
A few hours ago he received word that Pontius Pilate would allow the people to choose a prisoner to go free this holiday season. The choice is between himself and this Rabbi Jesus.
B.A. can’t help but smile to himself. He knows his people, he knows who they’ll choose. He’ll be back home in time for supper this evening.
Then he went out again to the people and told them, “He is not guilty of any crime. But you have a custom of asking me to release one prisoner each year at Passover. Would you like me to release this ‘King of the Jews’?” But they shouted back, “No! Not this man. We want Barabbas!” (Barabbas was a revolutionary.) LUKE 18: 38-40
***
When Barabbas and Jesus stood before the crowd, the people essentially had a choice of who would be their messiah. Lest we judge them for their decision, it’s important to remember that we still face the same choice today.
Just as in Jesus’ time, racial and political conflicts over the past several years are a painful reminder of our sins both collective and personal. Moreover, the ugly relationships between Americans are just a tiny snippet of the pain people all over the globe subject their fellow humans to. Hate is a human problem and the way of Jesus invites us to love those we tend to hate.
Jesus came on a mission of truth and reconciliation and I am confident that if he came back today, we would crucify the man all over again. Ninety nine out of hundred people would reject him.
Of those one hundred people, fifty would reject him because they deny their role in the injustices of the world. We think we’re basically good people.
We reject truth. Rather than repent (a revolution of the mind, behaviors, and priorities) we offer apologies and “thoughts and prayers”. To us Jesus says, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.”
We hate Jesus because he disturbs our slumber, our nice life. Barabbas will defend us, because we feel we’ve done nothing wrong and for some reason we’re being unjustifiably attacked.
The remaining forty nine out of a hundred would reject Jesus as well. We begrudge his willingness to forgive, we think it lets people off the hook. We despise him for spending time with our enemies and loving them. Give us Barabbas, a demagogue who will call out and shame those who are part of the problem. Look at Jesus eating and drinking, laughing and resting. How dare you have such a good time Christ, don’t you know this is war? We reject reconciliation. To us Jesus says, “Why do you begrudge my generosity?”
Let’s be honest with ourselves, we love Barabbas because he feeds our grievance. He let us off the hook by not requiring us to love our enemy. He’ll look the other way as we refuse to forgive. Barabbas promises to help us one day make them pay. He feeds the lie that the scales can be tipped just right.
***
What will heaven be like?
Heaven will be like a high-end sushi bar, the kind that costs about 900$ a meal. There will be a U-shaped table where people sit enjoying their meal. The Good Chef will stand in the middle, chopping up delicious sashimi, pouring sake, and chatting with the customers. The Good Chef is incredibly charismatic and will draw us into the experience of being with them. There will be so much joy at this tiny bar.
The other customers at the U-shaped table will be laughing and interacting with you and the Chef as you all share this meal together.
And who are these other customers you’re eating and hanging out with? They are your enemies of course! Your obnoxious neighbors and your racist uncle, corrupt government bureaucrats, white people, liberal snowflakes, and cops, all enjoying the goodness of eating this delicious meal together as one.
***
But did you know, this sushi bar is situated in the middle of a much larger restaurant? This larger restaurant is far more familiar and comfortable to us. It’s like America’s version of a monster buffet – the Golden Corral. The tables are spaced out (for safety) and we only eat with members of our tribe. It’s unwise and unsafe to break bread with other households.
This sushi bar is not in any way hidden, it’s there in plain view. In fact we can see it from where we sit and can hear the laughter emanating from that corner of the restaurant. We could get up from our tables and walk right over to the sushi counter anytime we want, but we choose not to.
So, we sit at our miserable little tables and eat our miserable little low-end meals of mac and cheese and half burnt pork chops. The food of this restaurant is mediocre tasting and unhealthy, it’s killing us actually. But it’s all-you-can-eat, so we go get filled up.
Occasionally we may glance over at the sushi bar. We see members of our tribe eating with our enemies. Laughing and hanging out.
“Traitors!”
“Cowards!”
“Sell-outs!”
As we shove another roll in our mouth.
You prepare a feast for me
in the presence of my enemies.
-Psalms 23