Barabbas is the poster-child for the ageless revolution. He is a Father’s Son, a Rabbi’s Child. He stands before governors, priests, and common people and gains their affection, because he is not so different from them.
Barabbas doesn’t claim a throne in heaven; he doesn’t boast a royal crown. He works in the soil and city, with sweat and blood beneath the burning sun. And if you mock him, he might kill you.
He is not so different from us. Making our own rules. Promoting our own causes. Fighting our own fights. Thinking our own thoughts. And if you mock us, we might boycott you.
Barabbas could as soon be Pastor Tim, Farmer Bob, President Regan, Senator Obama, Officer Krumsky, the Joker, your mom, or the reflection in your mirror.
His name is inconsequential. Even his crime is of little concern. It is the fact that he stands beside Jesus in a popularity contest, a moral dilemma, a church election, a beauty pageant. The rule-breaker against the ruler. The insurrectionist against God incarnate.
Barabbas and Jesus are the last two standing in dodge ball, and you have to decide if you route for the thrash talker who punishes the other team, or the man in the corner who refuses to flinch. We opt for the player with the strong arm.
By nature, we are better at breaking rules, windows, and friendships than following the lead of the King of Jews.
Fortunately, Jesus will put an end to this revolution. Now and later, globally and internally, if we release Him.