By George M. Docherty
He bursts into the home of his friends who stagger back.
"No, it's all right! I'm free! Pardoned by Pilate himself! Quick! wine and bread."
What a celebration indeed! Barabbas talking, laughing, weeping, eating, drinking as if possessed .... and the carousing hours roll by until suddenly he stops, somewhat ashamed that life could be so free and sweet. He thought of Gestus and Uriah who at this very moment must be hanging upon their crosses. He must see them: drawn as every criminal is drawn to the scene of the crime.
Thus he finds himself beneath three stark crosses against the lowering sky.
Gestus, true to form, is cursing and screaming; a rebel to the end who not even death could silence! But Uriah always was of a different sort. Whimpering and afraid, he seems to be calling out to someone "Remember me, Lord, when thou comest into Thy kingdom."
And another Voice: "Today, my son, you will be with me in Paradise."
For the first time Barabbas looks on the crushed figure of the center cross, the dead weight of the body pulling against the Roman spikes through His wrists, the face flushed with the fever that was overpowering Him, and the awful wrenching cry as from the depths of hell itself.
"Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani."To the stranger beside him, Barabbas enquires: "Who is this poor devil in the midst of the three crosses?"
"His name is Jesus. It should have been Barabbas the rebel, but he was let off. This man is dying in his place."
It took a little while for the truth to percolate into Barabbas' addled mind. He was looking at his own crucifixion! That was his cross! Those spikes should have been hammered through his wrists; the nail that impaled the feet together could have pinned his feet.
Suddenly he felt sick with fear; the terror of crucifixion was dawning on him. He fled from the scene, hearing through the tumult of his throbbing brain distant words calling out, as if to him:
"Father forgive them for they know not what they do."
What happened to Barabbas history never reveals. It would be melodrama to think that he was converted and became a leader in the Church. Probably he lived and died in some remote town; that is, if he was not crucified in another insurrection he might conceivably have raised.
What is history, and what lies deeper than even Barabbas could understand, are at least three significant facts.
Barabbas is the only man who ever lived, who could assert-- literally --that Christ Jesus died for him.
He saw Jesus with his own eyes, heard His words of pain and pity and forgiveness.
Ten thousand times ten thousand Christians have sung "Beneath the Cross of Jesus I fain would take my stand." Barabbas stood there.
Generations of preachers have declared "I will sing the wondrous story, of the Christ who died for me" but at the end of the service pronounced the benediction and went home to lunch.
Theologians trying to penetrate the eternal darkness that must ever shroud the Cross in mystery, see there "Love divine all love excelling"; or redemption by that "fountain filled with blood drawn from Immanuel's veins"; or victory over life, "On Christ the solid rock I stand, All other ground is sinking sand," or ransomed from the devil they sing "Praise my soul the King of Heaven; to his feet thy tribute bring; ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven ..." as they daily lecture to their students preparing for the ministry.
