Friday, March 25, 2016

Barabbas

What is going? Are you serious? How can this be? You are letting me go? Is this some kind of mistake? I'd better run swiftly, before they realize what they've done... But wait just a second, in my haste to remove myself from this dark, damp, dingy, cell, I looked in His eyes, and I promise you, I could see forever... 
(Crowd chooses Barabbas)

At the time, I did not know His name, I had only been told that it was my lucky day, and to go before the masses changed there mind... Asking again, I said, "are you sure they said Barabbas?" And to that the Roman guard replied, "leave now, run, or I'll kill you myself," and so I ran, I ran passing by the cell of the man who would take my place, the man called Jesus of Nazareth. Walking hurriedly into the crowd, ducking low and covering my head with the gown and filthy rags the guards had given me, I began to ask, those I'd bumped into, what was happening all around, what was all the cheering, shouting, and loud rumbling about... Only to hear enthusiastic shouts of awkward joy, and glee, stating that in just a little while, there's going to be a crucifixion of three criminals, one who had spoken ill of the Hebrew God, one who called Himself the Son of God, King of the Jews... Realizing that I'd just seen this man, and that I'd seen so much depth in His eyes, I decided to follow the crowds , and see who it was that had taken my place...

As time passed, you could begin to hear the cheering and the shouts of the crowd along the dusty streets, and it was then that I saw Him, battered, beaten, and bruised... The flesh of His back was literally torn to shreds... His arms pulsing, his knuckles, bloodied and bare, and His legs, bowed under the pressure of that cross, the cross that I knew was rightfully mine... And yet, He carried, and again, I saw His eyes, and in them... I could the pain and the anguish; yet, somehow it was different, I could not quite understand it, but I knew something was different here... As they passed and continued up the hill, I saw a man appear out of the crowd, a man I would later find out was from Cyrene, and he helped bare the weight of that cumbersome and heavy cross, and as they walked up the hill, I followed...

Who is this man, who is this Jesus? I asked throughout the crowded and tangled mass of men, women, and children as we all stumbled up the pavers and bricks... There were those who replied with vulgar language and shouts of hate, but these were not the answers I seemed, I knew there had to be more, for what normal man would bare the cross and punishment of another? Rumors swirled around, many states that in His hasty trial, He said very few words, and did not even defend Himself? What kind of fool would do such a thing, knowing the consequences he would face from the blood thirsty crowds... Yes, I am a criminal, and I admit this to all, but this crowd, they too are criminals and murderers, enjoying the pain of others as if it were a game... And so, I continued to walk...

(Jesus and the Cross)
As I approached the top of the Hill of Skulls, Golgotha, I could hear the yells and screams of the crowd growing ever louder as I stumbled about. Still, I hold the cloth over my head as I begin asking questions to anyone who's gaze turns away from the three men on the cross long enough for me to speak... Answers, it seems, are hard to come by, and the fear creeping up my spine, that somehow there's been a terrible mistake, keeps me ducking down beneath the bushes, though scarce, it provides to me some reassurance that the guards, the Pharisees, and the High Priest will not notice me and request another cross be brought up for me to bare... And then, as if in a moment preordained before time itself, I look over and see a woman, who's tears stream down as only a mother's can, and she is looking up, towards the man in the middle... With her, are many other woman, and they're better consoled by a man who's face seems familiar... And as I stop yet another man in the rustling crowd to ask who they were, before I could even speak, he declared, look there, the Nazarene's mother cries for Him, she cries for Jesus the Messiah, King of the Jews... Laughing harshly as he spoke, and as I looked up at Him, I could feel Him, peering into my soul as I fell to my knees and wept, for I had heard of this man of many miracles, I had heard the stories of how He had risen many from the dead, how He had healed the sick, and opened the blinded eyes, and now here He is, nailed to a wooden cross that was meant for me...

Puzzled, confused, and distraught, I remained there, in the crowd of onlookers, staring in amazement as He, this man called the Messiah, hung there on that cross, His body tattered, beaten, and bruised: the blood soaked cross; His only garment. As I continue to look around, I gaze upon a woman called Mary, being held up by another man, much younger; however, I could tell that he must have loved her, for he held her so tightly. Curiously, I asked someone in the bustling crowd, “who is that woman?”, “that is the sinners mother!” the vile man exclaimed, and as I turned back around, I could see Mary, his mother, as she knelt at the foot of the cross along with many others I could only assume where His followers, and although He clearly had many, there were quite easily outnumbered by the blood thirsty onlookers in the crowd…

What am I to do now? certainly there is something more here, I thought to myself, and it was then, in that moment that I recalled the split second in which I stared deeply into His eyes when Pilate and his cronies released me. You see, as I stated before, in those eyes, I could see forever, past, present, and future. Knowing then that there was truly something extraordinary about this man, I felt the need to stay for a while, and so I wrapped my loosely fitting garment around my head and I crept up toward the front, near His followers, barely a couple feet away from His mother, and the lady Magdalene.

As the hours passed, I watched his mother cry out in agony, I witnessed His followers, His brothers, and so many others crying, praying, and just lingering about, that is until things began to change at an accelerating rate. Jesus, the carpenter, the man up on that cross, was pierced in the side, and from His side flowed natural blood, and what appeared to be water, what sort of manner is this? How could this be that a man could be pierced, and bleed both water and blood? In that moment, it came to me, this was no man at all, He was the Messiah, and He has taken my punishment for me, and as I began to weep aloud, I remembered all the scriptures that I learned as a little boy…

Isaiah 53:3-5
(Christ on the Cross)
…He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed…

And it was then, in that moment, that I knew that, that this man, this man Jesus, He was the Messiah, and He willingly traded His life for mine, and for my sin, He died. Jesus the Nazarene is the Messiah, and it is only through Him that we can see God, and from that moment on, I followed Him, I saw him return from the grave, I walked with the Disciples to Jerusalem, and I was in the upper room when the Holy Ghost fell on the Day of Pentecost, and I followed His teachings, I followed His ways, and I followed Him, Jesus Christ the Messiah until the end of my days…


Now, this is just a fictional interpretation of what may have happened, anything is possible, or perhaps it did happen in this way, we will not know until that day we meet Him, Christ Jesus for ourselves; but what I do know is this, anyone of us could be  Barabbas. Jesus Christ willingly took the place of Barabbas on the cross two-thousand years ago: today, Jesus has taken our place as well, for it was by His sacrifice that we all have a chance to not only live, but to live a life more abundantly, for it is by His stripes that we are healed. The precious blood of Jesus has  Redeemed us. You see, there is no Salvation in any other name, it is by Jesus Christ that we are Justified, and it is purely by His Grace and Mercy that we, those who Believe, have received the gift of everlasting life…

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