Pilate, Barabbas, Jesus--April 15, 2025

Pilate, Barabbas, Jesus--April 15, 2025

"Pilate, wanting to release Jesus, addressed them again; but they kept shouting, ‘Crucify, crucify him!’ A third time he said to them, ‘Why, what evil has he done? I have found in him no ground for the sentence of death; I will therefore have him flogged and then release him.’ But they kept urgently demanding with loud shouts that he should be crucified; and their voices prevailed. So Pilate gave his verdict that their demand should be granted. He released the man they asked for, the one who had been put in prison for insurrection and murder, and he handed Jesus over as they wished." (Luke 23:20-25)

The contrast could not be any clearer. Empires are always ultimately willing to sacrifice truth, justice, and even the lives of the unjustly detained and wrongly accused for the sake of clutching at the appearance of greatness, but the Reign of God, as we see it in Jesus, will simply never sell out.

I keep hearing this scene from the Passion Gospel that many of us heard read in worship this past Sunday, and the difference between Rome's way (as shown by Pontius Pilate) and Jesus' way keeps reverberating in my head and my heart.  There is a stark difference between Pilate's craven tactics and the quiet courage of Jesus, just as there is between Jesus and the murderous insurrectionist Barabbas, whom the crowds have been goaded into asking for.  And so, Luke our narrator here holds up these three options in front of us, as if to say, "Which will you choose: the weak, cowardly way of Pilate, the violent, unhinged way of Barabbas, or the way of Jesus?" And here as the three options meet in the Roman detention center where both Jesus and Barabbas are being held by Pilate, the Gospel seems to add, "You can't have Jesus AND the other options; they are mutually exclusive." Or, like the band They Might Be Giants sang it thirty-five years ago, "You can't shake the devil's hand and say you're only kidding." 

While it is true that Christians believe that by God's power and design, the unfathomable evil of the cross has been somehow transformed into unconquerable good, it is also true that what is done to Jesus is unquestionably awful.  It's not merely a matter of physical pain or graphic gore (even though that's often what we might remember from movies about the crucifixion).  It's a matter of horrific injustice, and part of what Luke the Gospel-writer is doing in giving us this account is to highlight just how wicked the Empire is in refusing to release Jesus, even though its representative Pilate ostensibly admits that Jesus has not committed a crime.  Pilate, we are told, repeatedly says he knows that Jesus does not deserve this punishment, but he is ultimately more interested in keeping his grip on power--and the Empire's hold on Judea--than in doing justice.  Even if Pilate had insisted on releasing Jesus (something he could have done if he had any spine), Pilate was still prepared to have Jesus flogged before letting him go.  In other words, at no point is Pilate or the government he represents interested in seeing justice done or innocent people vindicated.  He is only interested in what makes the empire look "great."  Luke the Gospel-writer wants us to see that is a damn shame, in order that we might also see the way of Jesus as an alternative to the way of empire.

I don't want us to miss this choice as the Gospel lays it before us and compels us to choose, rather like the crowd.  We are so used to barreling through this part of the story to get to the climactic moments from the cross--the temple curtain being torn in two, the soldiers gambling for Jesus' clothes, the plea for forgiveness, the promise of Paradise, and the resounding declaration, "It is finished"--that we rarely stop to consider what is going on in the trial scene that leads up to Jesus' crucifixion.  And at least for many church folks, since we are quite used to hearing that Jesus' death makes our salvation possible, we are not as accustomed to reflecting on the utter injustice and rottenness of Jesus' trials, both before the Respectable Religious Leaders and the political puppets like Pilate and Herod.  But before we get to Golgotha's skull-shaped hill, it's worth asking, "Why does Luke the Gospel writer linger here and give us this tense scene, rather than skipping ahead to the Seven Last Words?"  Why, in other words, do we need to hear about the Empire's crass power-grabbing that would rather see an innocent man disappear than do justice by having him released?  Why do we need to hear about the crowds clamoring for Barabbas to be set free?  And why do we need to hear the flip-flopping press-conference spin-doctoring of Pilate who brags one moment about how important and powerful and influential he is and then insists he is powerless to stop the will of the ones who want Jesus crucified?

We need to face this three-way choice--between Pilate, Barabbas, and Jesus--because every day we make choices as well, about whose way of life will become our own. And all too often, we have either been pitiful cowards like Pilate, afraid to speak up for an innocent detainee, or we have given into monstrous violence like Barabbas as a means to power.  All too often, we who confess the name of Jesus on Sundays and wear cross necklaces to our workplaces in the rest of the week have sold out the way of Jesus for one of the other two terrible choices.  Luke compels us to see in this moment that we do not have to choose Pilate's bluster or Barabbas' brutality.  We who have been claimed by our Lord Jesus are set free for an alternative.  We are called to be the voices who speak up for the wrongly accused, just as we are called to reject returning evil for evil, just as we are called to insist on justice to be done rather than expediency or control. You and I will not find ourselves in front of a Roman praetorium, perhaps, but we do have the choice every day whose footsteps we will walk in--whether Pilate, Barabbas, or Jesus.  But we can't follow anybody else's path if we are following Jesus'.  

Every day the news reminds us that the choices of following the imperial mindset or the insurrectionist mindset are still very much live options, and it is terribly easy to be swept up into either of them.  It is easy to ignore when others disappear or suffer without hope because "it doesn't affect me directly," or because we tell ourselves they are unavoidable collateral damage.  It is very easy to justify hatred, violence, and brutality as "just the way the world works if you want to get things done" like Barabbas, too.  Jesus charts his own course, and his road parts company with the alternatives.  Every day, then, is a choice for us as to whose path we will take, and whose way of life we will make our own.

For too many times in my life, I have been a chicken-heart like Pilate, afraid to speak up to stop terrible wrongs because I was scared of the costs. And too many times, I have given into the raw hatred of Barabbas as well, only to find that empty, too.  The Gospel insists that there is an alternative--the way of Jesus--and that even if I have made rotten choices before, today brings the chance to take my place beside Jesus, and to leave behind the other options.

Today, what could that look like, or sound like, for you and me?

Lord Jesus, give us the courage to walk in your way, especially when it is tempting and easy to follow other paths.