I, bar Abbas

Rev. Kyle Clark

Gospel Lesson: Mark 15:1-39

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Palm/Passion Sunday

I am going to ask you to do something most preachers will never ask you to do. Close your eyes. They won’t ask because most of us have a hard enough time keeping folks awake any way. We certainly don’t need to encourage napping. Still I’ll ask you to do this.

Close your eyes and journey with me to a different time and a different place. The streets are crowded and narrow. You smell the smells of this foreign place; baking bread and cooking meat in the market place; the stench of animals for sale – birds, sheep, goats, and pack animals - donkeys and camels, the smoke from sticks of burning incense, the sweat from dozens of perspiring bodies milling about.

You hear the sounds; peddlers hawking their wares, children laughing, babies crying, the constant din of hundreds of conversations taking place all around you, the clang of cymbals and chimes and the harsh voices of Roman soldiers barking out orders to the people of this occupied land all combine to form a curious symphony.

 You see the sights in this walled city so far away; houses and flats one indistinguishable from the other, grand palaces of the rich and powerful, imposing ramparts of the garrison housing the troops, majestic walls of the temple. Cobbled streets. Filthy alleys. People and animals milling about, coming and going through the city gates. Armed soldiers are seen everywhere.

Yet in this place where everything is new and different to you with all the sights and smells and sounds, something – someone catches your attention. A man is speaking passionately to a crowd gathered around him. As you draw near you hear him telling this story:

“…I sat there alone that night thinking about how I came to be here. The cave that served as my prison cell was especially dark that night. You know the charges against me – rebellion, insurrection, murder. You also know that sentence for these crimes is death. These Roman dogs were going to crucify me. It’s not that I feared death so much as I feared this kind of death. I had done many things for which I now regretted, many horrible, terrible things, and tomorrow I would die, slowly, painfully, shamefully.

"Suddenly the stillness of the night was broken by the sharp sound of soldier’s boots on the pavement above. It must have been at least a cohort – 600 Roman soldiers marching in formation. I didn’t know where they be going at this time of night, but something was going on and it couldn’t be good with all those soldiers on the move. Yes, it was a strange, uneasy night tonight.

"The next thing I knew it was morning. I must have finally dozed off but I have no idea how long I slept. I was awakened by the sound of a crowd. I heard them shouting my name. ‘No! Barabbas! We want Barabbas! Crucify him!’ It was terrible. I thought my own people wanted to see me dead. I begin to tremble uncontrollably with fear. ‘O my God, I am going to die today!’ I can’t stop crying. My whole body is shaking. ’Why? Why, O God?’ But I know why. The crimes I’ve committed, the lies, the robberies, the murders.

"Then I hear the footsteps. The door to my cell swings open and the guards grab me. It’s time! I am so weak I can’t even walk. As we come out of the darkness into the light of day, I shield my eyes from the sun (Son). That’s when I see him. I know of this man. He is beaten and bloody, his face swollen but I still recognize him. We share the same name, (Yeshua) Jesus. I wonder why is he here? What has he done? The governor is standing there as well. He addresses the crowd one last time as he motions toward this man from Galilee.  ‘I give you the your king.’

"‘No,’ they cry. ‘We want Barabbas! Crucify him!’

"I am confused. Why are they calling for this man’s death? I know he hasn’t done anything wrong. Suddenly the guards take the notice of my crime and sentence and rip it up. They are taking off my shackles. I’m free. I’m Free!

"And then I look up. I look into the eyes of Jesus as they are leading him away and I am stunned. Even though his face is bloody and swollen, there is no fear. There is no anger. He looks at me. This man has never spoken a word to me, as far as I know he has never seen me, yet that look – he knows me. He knows everything about me and he looks at me with such love and compassion. I almost think he smiles at me as we pass. Then it hits me. They are going to kill him.  He is going to die my death. He has done no wrong, and yet he is going to face the death that I deserve.

"I don’t know how long I wandered aimlessly through the crowded streets. My mind racing trying to understand what has happened. Not long after I was released, I saw him again. They had beaten him some more. Everyone knows that the Roman guards stationed here have been sent here as punishment. Judea is not where the best soldiers come. These men have no compassion. Once they begin beating someone, rarely do they stop.

"Jesus had survived the beating, just barely. He was too weak to carry the cross, my cross. I think he sees me standing in the crowd as he passes by. Just a few steps later I see him stumble, the guards snatch another man standing there in the crowd. They force him to leave his family and carry the cross for Jesus. I still don’t know why him and not me. I don’t know why, but I continue to follow him as he makes his way to Skull.

"I tell myself, ‘At least he will have the drink.’ The myrrh and wine will provide some measure of relief from the agony of the cross. But he refuses even this bit of comfort.

"I know the two that were beside him. We were all part of the band. These, these men deserved this sentence. I deserved it more than they did.

"‘Why are these people spitting on him? Why are insulting him? Why will no one lift a finger to help?’ I just couldn’t understand. But, this day, death comes quickly. The skies turn dark, dark as night almost as if the day itself had died. I learned later that the temple curtain had ripped at that very moment.

"The Centurion there that day was no stranger to death. He had seen many people die. He had seen bravery and cowardice. He had had the horrible task of carrying out the sentences of Rome on numerous occasions. As I watched his reaction, it dawned on me that he knew. Now I know, truly this was the Son of God.  

"As I began to make my way home someone saw me at a distance and called to my mother, ‘Woman, behold your son!’ With tears streaming down her face my mother ran out to meet me. As we embraced I whispered in her ear, ‘Mama, I’m home.’

"I went to bed that night on the bed of my youth, surrounded by family and friends. But I could not help but think about this; not very far away lay another lying on a bed of cold stone wrapped in burial clothes….”

(You may open your eyes)

Now I’ve taken some liberty with the text. We really don’t know very much about Barabbas except what is written about in the gospels. His name is Jesus (Yeshua) bar Abbas, literally Jesus son of the father. Some believe that he took the name bar Abbas to protect his family from persecution by the Romans. He was likely not a populist leader as some have speculated. It is more probable that he was a member, maybe even the leader of a bandit group that would have been feared by most people. We might call him a gang leader today. He did nothing to earn his freedom, as far as we know he didn’t even ask for it. There is nothing that suggests he exhibited good behavior after his release. He could very well have returned to his old ways, I don’t know. I choose to believe that he did not. One thing is certain however. His life was changed forever. In Christ, he was offered grace; unmerited, undeserved, unconditional grace. Even before Jesus was crucified, his life replaced that of a condemned man. Now bar Abbas had to choose how he would respond.

While we can only speculate as to how bar Abbas responded one thing is beyond question. The event that forever changed life for bar Abbas, the cross, the crucifixion of Jesus, is the same event that changes life for us, for you and I. Like bar Abbas, neither you nor I can change the event, we can only choose how we respond. We can deny it, we can ignore it, we can pretend it is merely a fictitious old story, but we can never change it. Ultimately we can only choose to either accept the grace God offers through the cross of Jesus or reject it. That grace, however, forever remains, it will always be there.

We know that while the story for bar Abbas ends here, the story for us continues. Yes, the event of the cross is forever but the tomb is only temporary.  This is our hope! This is our belief! So, on this, the holiest week of the year for Christians, we are left to consider our response to this gift of grace, this gift of life.

Our story today began with a man alone in a cave sentenced to death. That same man has been sent home, released because there was another who took his place. Our story today ends with a Man alone in a cave, dead. The one was sentenced to death for crimes of which he was guilty. The other accepted death for those same crimes even though he was innocent. The One died to set the other free. Truly he is the Son of God!