The Substitute
Notes
Transcript
Many years ago, Annette and I lived in the Port Norfolk area of Portsmouth. I don’t know if any of you have been there, but it’s an old neighborhood with lots of old, two- and three-story houses, that terminates at the Elizabeth River, looking toward the West Norfolk Bridge.
I still love to drive around that neighborhood and look at the old, Victorian houses there, though many of them are now decaying, right along with the neighborhood itself. What can I say? It’s Portsmouth, after all.
Anyway, we lived on a corner, in the top two floors of a three-story house that had a big balcony facing the street. And one morning, I happened to be sitting outside on that balcony when I heard tires squealing and coming toward us from the next block down.
I jumped up from my chair just in time to see a car smash into the side of Annette’s SUV, which had been parked on the street in front of our house.
Now, in THOSE days, I could move pretty quickly. And so, I tore down the stairs, threw open the front door, and ran toward the scene of the accident, just in time to see the guy begin to drive away.
Well, there’s not much that can prompt me to run, but that’s just what I did. The other car was in pretty bad shape, and within just a few houses, the driver stopped and got out.
By this time, neighbors from several different houses were converging on the street to see what was happening.
And I don’t know if it was the presence of all those witnesses or general fear or the sight of an angry 200-pound bald guy (yes, I was bald at the time, and I looked like a skinhead) barreling toward him. But whatever the reason, the guy took off running, himself.
Now, understand that this all happened in a flash, and even when goaded into running, I never could run very fast, anyway. And so, before I’d gotten far at all, our next-door neighbor came racing into the street and grabbed me.
“Res, STOP!” he yelled. “Don’t do this!”
Well, by this time, my heart was about to explode, anyway, so I listened to my neighbor, stopped my foot pursuit and watched the driver who’d caused this accident take off.
It’s funny, because it all seemed so important at the time. But yesterday, when I asked Annette what she remembered about it, both of us were sketchy on the details of the whole incident.
Neither of us, for instance, could remember ever having to go to court, though we’re both sure the police caught him at some point. I’m not even sure whether he ended up driving away or just continued running.
I have some weird recollection of carrying a bat with me as I chased him, though I don’t think I’ve owned a bat since grade school.
And it occurs to me that there’s a lesson in just THIS part of the story: Even the things that seem desperately important to us in the moment often fade into insignificance given time. Maybe we’d all be happier if we lived in that knowledge.
Anyway, I want to ask you this morning what you think I was looking for that morning as I chased that guy with my possibly imaginary bat.
Let’s be charitable and say I was looking for justice. I think that’s something we all want. We all have something within us that yearns for people to pay for the wrong they do and for those who’ve BEEN wronged to be restored.
This week, we begin a short series that’ll conclude on Easter morning. We’re going to look at a few secondary characters in the Passion accounts of the Gospels and see what their stories tell us about Jesus and the sacrifice He made at the cross so we can be reconciled to God through faith.
And today, our focus will be on justice.
If you have your Bible this morning, please go ahead and turn to Mark, chapter 15. All four Gospel accounts record this particular portion of the morning before Jesus was crucified, which suggests that what takes place here is especially significant.
But we’re going to take a look at Mark’s account, because he gives slightly more information than the others about this morning’s secondary character, Barabbas.
And what we’re going to see this morning is that, as Jesus stood condemned before him by the Jewish religious and political leaders, Pilate, the Roman governor in Judea, had an opportunity to do TRUE justice. Yet, in his fear of the Jewish crowds, what he chose was the greatest TRAVESTY of justice in history.
And as important as justice might be to all of us, it was this very travesty of justice that made it possible for you and I to be saved, to be forgiven for our OWN sins, to escape the very justice that we deserve for rebelling against God.
Let’s read the passage together. We’re going to look at the first 15 verses.
1 Early in the morning the chief priests with the elders and scribes and the whole Council, immediately held a consultation; and binding Jesus, they led Him away and delivered Him to Pilate.
2 Pilate questioned Him, “Are You the King of the Jews?” And He answered him, “It is as you say.”
3 The chief priests began to accuse Him harshly.
4 Then Pilate questioned Him again, saying, “Do You not answer? See how many charges they bring against You!”
5 But Jesus made no further answer; so Pilate was amazed.
6 Now at the feast he used to release for them any one prisoner whom they requested.
7 The man named Barabbas had been imprisoned with the insurrectionists who had committed murder in the insurrection.
8 The crowd went up and began asking him to do as he had been accustomed to do for them.
9 Pilate answered them, saying, “Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?”
10 For he was aware that the chief priests had handed Him over because of envy.
11 But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to ask him to release Barabbas for them instead.
12 Answering again, Pilate said to them, “Then what shall I do with Him whom you call the King of the Jews?”
13 They shouted back, “Crucify Him!”
14 But Pilate said to them, “Why, what evil has He done?” But they shouted all the more, “Crucify Him!”
15 Wishing to satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas for them, and after having Jesus scourged, he handed Him over to be crucified.
Now, obviously, what Mark records here took place after Jesus’ betrayal and arrest in the Garden of Eden. He’d been hauled before the high priest, the chief priests, and the elders and scribes, who’d encouraged false testimony to be brought against Him.
They’d accused Him of blasphemy for calling Himself the Messiah and saying they’d one day see Him sitting at the right hand of God. And they’d spit on Him and beaten Him in their anger.
Finally, they’d taken Him to Pilate in hopes that this Roman governor would do for them what they weren’t allowed to do under the law: put Jesus to death.
And as Jesus stood before Pilate, they continued to make all their false accusations against Him. In verse 2, Pilate asks Him, “Are you the king of the Jews?”
And I think it’s significant here that this is the only place in this passage where Jesus speaks. “It is as you say,” He replies.
“Listen to all the things they’re accusing you of,” Pilate says to Him in verse 4. “Why don’t you speak up for yourself?”
Jesus affirmed the one thing they’d said that was true. That He is King of the Jews. But He would not dignify the lies about Him with a response.
And His silence in the face of all this false testimony about Him had an effect on Pilate. Verse 5 says he “was amazed.” The word there means to be struck with astonishment and wonder. There’s a sense of admiration involved in it.
Surely, Pilate was used to people brought before him and accused of various crimes making impassioned pleas for themselves, perhaps concocting elaborate stories to “prove” their innocence.
But Jesus knew He didn’t need to prove His innocence to Pilate. Look at what Mark says about Pilate in verse 10.
10 For he was aware that the chief priests had handed Him over because of envy.
Whatever else he may have been, Pilate was savvy about the Jewish religious and political leaders who stood before Him condemning Jesus. He knew they were jealous of Jesus’ popularity among the people.
Maybe he even understood something of the threat they considered Jesus to their social and religious status in Jerusalem.
And so, here, for we who desire justice, we might expect to see Pilate set Jesus free.
And for a time, that looks like what Pilate might do. Mark tells us in verse 6 that Pilate had a custom of releasing a prisoner of Rome during the feast days. Perhaps that’s what Pilate would do here.
But then, in verse 7, Mark introduces us to Barabbas, and there’s a sense of foreboding in the introduction.
Now, Matthew describes Barabbas as a robber. John describes him as a “notorious prisoner.” Here in Mark, we see that he was part of an insurrection that rose up against the Roman rulers of Judea and that the insurrectionists had murdered someone, probably some Roman citizen living in Jerusalem, maybe even a Roman official or soldier.
Luke is even more direct in his description of Barabbas, writing:
19 (He was one who had been thrown into prison for an insurrection made in the city, and for murder.)
In each of the Gospels, the guilt of Barabbas is clear. None of the Gospel accounts says he was ACCUSED of these things. His guilt is presented in each case as FACT. Everybody knew Barabbas had done just what he’d been accused of doing by the Roman officials.
And Pilate seems to genuinely have no idea that things are about to go the way they do. Mark’s insertion of Barabbas into the account in verse 7 gives a sense of foreboding, and it places the absolute innocence of Jesus in contrast to the absolute GUILT of Barabbas.
So, clueless about the dynamics of the situation playing out before him, Pilate asks the crowd in verse 9, “Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?”
Now, I don’t think Pilate was being sarcastic here. Rome was extremely powerful at this point in history.
Many of the nations it conquered HAD kings, and some of those kings retained their titles and positions under Rome. But Rome didn’t care about your king as long as you all paid your taxes and submitted to Roman authority.
Maybe Jesus WAS the king of the Jews. It didn’t matter to Rome, as long as He didn’t foment rebellion against Rome, and there was no evidence that Jesus had done that.
So, I think Pilate really expected the people to respond that he should release Jesus, the king of the Jews, for the traditional feast-day pardon.
But here, he seems to have underestimated both the degree to which Jesus was hated by the Jewish priests and the ease with which the crowd could be swayed by them.
So the chief priests call for Pilate to release Barabbas, and they stir up the crowd to demand the same thing.
And we need to stop here and recognize just how UNjust this demand is, especially on the part of the priests, who’d be expected to have a special interest in justice.
They KNEW that what they were saying about Jesus was lies. Pilate wouldn’t execute Jesus over a religious dispute among the Jews. Rome couldn’t care less about your religion, as long as you paid your taxes and submitted to its authority.
To make the Roman authorities execute Jesus, the priests would have to convince them that Jesus had committed some crime against Rome and its interests. But He’d done no such thing. So, they had to lie. And liars know they’re lying.
And under the Mosaic Law that the priests and other religious leaders of Judea took such pride in keeping, a false witness should receive exactly the punishment he’d sought for the wrongly accused.
The priests standing before Pilate that day were not only perverting the justice of Rome, they were perverting the justice of the Mosaic Law.
But Pilate seems still to want to spare Jesus. What shall I do with Him, he asks. “Crucify Him!” But why? What evil has he done? “CRUCIFY Him!”
And so, finally, because of his fear of the mob that stood before him, Pilate has Jesus scourged and handed over to the centurions to be crucified. This Roman governor, who was the face of Roman justice in Judea, gave himself over to INjustice because he was afraid of what would happen if he didn’t.
In the end, Jesus was condemned by a coward who lacked the courage to stand for his own convictions about the innocence of Christ.
Having affirmed that he’d found no fault in Jesus — having KNOWN that Jesus was being falsely accused because of the Jewish leaders’ jealousy — having been amazed by Jesus’ silence in the face of all that false testimony — indeed, having perhaps even ADMIRED Jesus for the royal dignity with which he faced these false accusers — Pilate sent this innocent man to His death. He sent the Son of God to be crucified.
And this is the biggest travesty of justice in the history of man.
But it’s important to note that there was another travesty of justice that took place here, as well. What did Barabbas deserve?
Well, under Roman law, he deserved to die. He’d risen up against the Roman rulers of Jerusalem, and he’d killed someone in the process. The legal case against Barabbas was cut-and-dried. He stood condemned and rightly so.
And yet, he was released.
What Barabbas deserved, Jesus endured. While Jesus climbed Calvary with His cross, Barabbas walked free. Barabbas deserved to die on that cross. But Jesus died as his substitute. The innocent one took the place of the guilty one.
I don’t want you to miss this, folks. What took place with Barabbas is a picture of salvation.
We sinners — we rebels and insurrectionists against the kingdom of God — we who’ve sinned against Him and are therefore condemned to death — we can be freed from that condemnation through faith in the substitutionary atonement of Christ at the cross.
HE paid the debt that we could not pay. He who knew no sin took our place, enduring the suffering and punishment we all DESERVE for our sins against God so that we could be FREE and FORGIVEN.
So that, through faith in Him and His finished work at the cross, we can be reconciled to God. Brought into His family as adopted sons and daughters. Treated as if we’d NEVER sinned at all. Pardoned completely.
And there’s a sense in which that is truly a travesty of justice. Why should God Himself, in the Person of His sinless Son, Jesus Christ, suffer the punishment WE deserve for our sins against Him.
But that’s just what happened at the cross. When Jesus cried out, “It is finished” before taking His last breath, He was saying that HE had received the full wages of sin upon Himself.
HE had suffered separation from God during those awful three hours of darkness on the cross. HE had taken our punishment FOR us so that all who turn to Him in faith can be saved and forgiven.
And at the empty tomb three days later, we see that God has accepted Jesus’ sacrificial death as full payment of the sin-debt owed by every person who follows Jesus in faith.
Barabbas wasn’t just lucky that morning in Jerusalem. God used him to give us a picture of what Jesus does for every person who places their faith in Him.
The innocent one died so the guilty ones could be free.
I don’t know what you’re guilty of this morning, but I know you have SOME guilt within you. ALL have sinned and come short of the glory of God. And the wages of sin is DEATH. Just like Barabbas before Pilate, every one of us stands condemned before God for our sins against Him. We DESERVE His condemnation.
But God loves us. And so, Jesus came to live among us as a man, yet without sin, and to give Himself as a sacrifice at the cross. There, He bore our sins AND their guilt, receiving upon Himself the just wrath of God for sin.
And He did this so you and I could be saved FROM God’s just wrath. So that, through faith in Jesus, we could be saved and forgiven. Pardoned completely. As if we’d never sinned at all.
We are all Barabbas in some way or another. But not one of us is beyond God’s grace, poured out upon us at the cross.
Jesus died for Barabbas. But He also died for YOU. You who are still condemned for your sins against God can still be saved, just as Barabbas was. Will you turn to Jesus in faith today? Will you trust this morning in Him and in His sacrifice for you and in your place?
If you’ve never done so, then let me encourage you this morning to come up during this last song and talk with me. Let me show you how you can be free. Let me introduce you to Jesus, your substitute and your Savior.
