But they cried out in a mass saying, Away with this [man] and release Barabbas to us;
Pilate tried a compromise instead of justice, and the crowd answered with one roar. Two men stood side by side — one a murderer, one who had done nothing wrong — and the crowd asked for the murderer.
The demand for Barabbas grew out of a Passover custom. A judge with no case against the prisoner should never have used it.
The issue was clear: justice had to release Him. Yet Pilate tried a compromise. He made the unjust suggestion that he would whip Jesus before letting Him go. He thought this lesser punishment might satisfy the Jews. By this dishonourable means he was weaving the net that the Jews caught him in. Then he brought another unjust principle into the trial. It was the Roman custom to release one prisoner at the Passover, and the Jews were allowed to choose which one (John 18:39). This practice assumed the prisoner was guilty, so the custom should never have applied to the Lord Jesus.
The custom itself looked back to a rescue.
It helps to know that this custom was a way of remembering how God stepped in for the nation. Each year one prisoner was set free, as a reminder that God had set Israel free long ago.
Luke names the man the crowd wanted. Other Gospels fill in what kind of man he was.
John 18:40 calls him a "robber," and Matthew 27:16-26 calls him "a notorious prisoner." He had started a revolt and had committed murder (Mark 15:7-15). Yet the Jews, led by the chief priests and elders, asked for this man, not the Lord Jesus. Why they asked for this particular prisoner is not known. But their choice shows their ungodliness in the clearest way. They preferred such a notoriously wicked man to the Lord of life and glory, their Messiah. Peter made sure to charge this home to the Jews: "You denied the Holy and Righteous One, and asked for a murderer to be granted to you" (Acts 3:14).
Put the two men side by side and the contrast runs deeper than good against bad. It is a clash of two wills.
In Barabbas we have a most striking picture of man's will; in Jesus the perfect expression of God's. Barabbas pushed his own will through without scruple, whatever it cost others. He defied authority (sedition), plundered property (robbery), and took life (murder). Jesus carried out God's will. But all the cost was His own, and the eternal gain is ours… The world's choice was not the gracious Giver who would lay down His life for others. It was the notable robber who could take life itself to reach his selfish ends… "Not this man, but Barabbas!" was the cry. Terrible decision, but the reason is clear. The will of God was this Man's delight, and bringing in God's will meant displacing man's.
Barabbas walked away with something he had not earned. Commentators read his release as a picture of what the cross does.
Barabbas was released, though guilty and condemned, because the Lord Jesus took his place. Christ was his substitute. Once released, Barabbas might have gone out, looked up at Him who hung on the cross, and said, "He died for me; He paid my penalty." It is a wonderful illustration of the atonement.
The exchange can be seen in the wood itself.
The cross that should have been for Barabbas was used for Jesus! There was plenty of wood to make Jesus a cross of His own. But He who had done nothing wrong was crucified on the cross meant for Barabbas, the murderer!
The crowd thought the choice was theirs. Another hand was at work behind their shout.
The people made a fateful choice: Barabbas — Satan's counterfeit "son of the father." Their choice confirms their guilt. But there is another side. God watches over the scene. He makes sure that His Son is not released as a guilty criminal who has been pardoned, but is condemned while innocent.
Commentators do not leave this scene in the past. They turn the crowd's cry into a question for the reader.
The world cannot do without its religion… but they do not want Christ; they will not have Christ. They want happiness without Him. Forms and ceremonies are an advantage to them… but Christ is not wanted, and He is not welcome. "Not this man, but Barabbas." … You have your Barabbas in some shape or form. It is the very contrast to Jesus Christ, the very opposite of Him.
- The custom. The Passover release assumed the prisoner was guilty. It should never have touched Jesus, but Pilate's compromise trapped him.
- The choice. A murderer and the Lord of glory stood side by side. The people asked for the murderer, and Peter charged that choice home to them.
- The exchange. Barabbas was guilty and condemned, yet he went free. Jesus took his place — an illustration of the atonement.
- The cross. The cross prepared for the murderer carried the One who had done nothing wrong.
- The echo. The cry is still heard. A world that keeps its religion but refuses Christ says the same words in a new form.
who was one who, for a certain tumult which had taken place in the city, and [for] murder, had been cast into prison.
Luke stops in the middle of the trial to name the crimes of the man the crowd wanted set free. The detail matters. It sets the freed prisoner beside the condemned One, and it asks what that choice says about the people who made it.
Luke and Mark give the charges Matthew leaves out. One writer looks at the man's name and at his record, and finds an irony in the word "insurrection". The leaders had invented that charge against Jesus. Barabbas had really done it.
At that time they had a prisoner of a notable kind, suited in every way for comparison and contrast with the spotless Victim now before them. His name says it at once: Barabbas means "son of the father." Mark and Luke add that he had been thrown into prison for sedition; so he had actually committed the crime they were falsely charging against Jesus. On top of that, he was a robber and a murderer. So it would seem impossible for the people to choose Barabbas. And now Pilate wanted to know whether he should release this notorious criminal or "Jesus who is called Christ."
One commentator reads the three charges as a picture of man's will. He sets it beside the will that Jesus carried out.
In Barabbas we have a striking picture of man's will; in Jesus the perfect expression of God's. Barabbas carried out his own will with ruthless determination, no matter what it cost others. He defied authority (sedition), plundered property (robbery), and took life (murder). Jesus carried out God's will. But all the cost was His own, and the eternal gain is ours.
The release took place at Passover, the feast that remembered God's rescue of Israel. One writer explains what the custom stood for, then imagines Pilate weighing his options aloud.
It helps to know that this custom remembered how God once stepped in to save the nation. Each year one prisoner went free, as a reminder that God had once set Israel free. And now the Passover is coming. I must release someone then. Shall I set free Barabbas or Jesus?
So why did the crowd pick him? One writer says the choice was never really about Barabbas.
It is not that the crowd had the slightest regard for Barabbas; the point was that they did not want Jesus.
Another writer weighs where the guilt for that choice fell heaviest.
So this proved the whole world guilty before God. Yet none were so deeply involved as those who should least have been. The people who had the law fell under its curse. That was not only because they disobeyed its commands. Worst of all, they were set on rejecting their own Messiah and putting Him to death — and this while the foreigner tried to let Him go.
Pilate's choice tied the two men together. One commentator sees the gospel in that.
We see him as a chief of sinners, a rebel and a murderer. For him the feast of redemption offers a possible release — but only, on Pilate's terms, if Jesus is given up. Jesus becomes, as it were, the Substitute for the chief of sinners. To "release Barabbas" is "to destroy Jesus." Why? Because He has done evil? The judge asks in vain; where is it? Look deeper than the wicked wills of men. In God's purpose we may see that holy Sin-offering, the true Passover, by which even a Barabbas may be delivered. It is not for any good in him, for Barabbas shows none.
Another writer pictures what the freed man could have said next.
Barabbas was released, though guilty and condemned, because the Lord Jesus took his place. Christ was his substitute. After his release, Barabbas might have gone out and looked up at Him who hung on the cross. He could have said, "He died for me; He paid my penalty." It is a wonderful illustration of the atonement.
One writer asks what that request showed about the people who made it.
Yet the Jews, led by the chief priests and elders, asked for this man's release instead of the release of the Lord Jesus. No one knows why they asked for this particular prisoner. But it shows their ungodliness as clearly as possible: they could choose such a notoriously wicked man in place of the Lord of life and glory, their Messiah. Peter did not fail to press this home on them: "You denied the Holy and Righteous One, and asked for a murderer to be granted to you" (Acts 3:14).
- Charged — Barabbas had truly done the crime the leaders pinned on Jesus: insurrection. He was a robber and a murderer as well.
- Chosen — the crowd did not admire Barabbas; they refused Jesus. That choice showed the whole world guilty, with the leaders most deeply involved.
- Exchanged — Pilate's terms tied the two men together. To free Barabbas was to destroy Jesus, so the innocent One took the guilty man's place.
- Released — at the feast that remembered God's rescue of Israel, a chief of sinners walked free. Nothing good in him earned it.
- Confronted — Peter later put this choice to the city. They had traded the Holy and Righteous One for a murderer.
Pilate therefore, desirous to release Jesus, again addressed [them].
Pilate has already told the crowd that he finds Jesus innocent. Now he appeals to them again for a release he has the power to grant himself. Why did a man who wanted Jesus freed end up handing Him over?
Pilate's wish to release Jesus runs right through the record. One writer lines up the evidence, asks the obvious question, and answers it from Matthew and Mark.
He was determined, as Peter declared only a few weeks after the event, to release the Lord (Acts 3:13). He laboured for that purpose, desiring to achieve it (Luke 23:20). John writes (19:11) that Pilate sought to release Him after hearing the Lord's answer, "He who delivered me over to you has the greater sin." He was convinced of the Lord's innocence of any charge the Jews laid against Him, and repeated to them his firm conviction about it. Why then did he not release Him? Matthew tells us (27:24) that Pilate saw a tumult was rising. So to stop it, and to keep the people happy (Mark 15:15), he released Barabbas and delivered Jesus to be crucified. … Besides, he was anything but popular. No doubt he dreaded an appeal to the emperor against him for his conduct while in office. So he was willing to keep the people happy and to prove himself Caesar's friend (John 19:12). His conscience made him a coward. He gave way to the popular call.
Pilate's desire was real. But it came with a price he would not pay.
Nothing can be more striking than the story of Pilate. He had no enmity against Christ. He would have discharged Him if he could at the same time have kept his standing in the world.
The man who addressed the crowd here held the power of Rome, and that makes his failure the more striking.
How pitiable that the judge and governor of the proudest nation on earth, with his own subjects standing before him, lacked the moral courage to do what he knew was right! It shows us that what the world needs is not so much power as moral uprightness.
Pilate had one duty. He took another road.
In that case his business was simply to release Him. But instead of yielding to his conscience, he seeks a compromise with it. He thinks he has found a way out of a difficult situation, so he puts the whole matter into the people's hands. So he makes it almost impossible to return to the path of righteousness he has left. He openly shows himself to be not of the truth.
Offering to beat an innocent man and then free Him was itself part of the trap.
The issue was clear: justice must release Him. Yet Pilate tried a compromise with the unjust suggestion that he would have Him whipped before releasing Him. He thought this lesser judgment might satisfy the Jews. By this dishonourable means he was himself weaving the net in which the Jews snared him.
Luke names the reason the sentence fell as it did.
Pilate repeats his proposal another time (v. 22), yet without success. This leads us to what may be the most shocking moment in the trial of the Son of God. The judge was convinced. The evidence for the innocence of the Man Christ Jesus was overwhelming. Yet we read: "But they were urgent, demanding with loud cries that he should be crucified. And their voices prevailed. So Pilate decided that their demand should be granted." This sentence is the exact opposite of the evidence. The simple but telling reason is that the "voices prevailed." When pressure becomes strong enough, political judgment bows to it.
That a Roman governor kept trying to free Jesus throws the conduct of the accusers into sharp relief.
So all the world was proved guilty before God. But none were so deeply involved as those who should least have been. The people who had the law fell under its curse. It was not only because they disobeyed its requirements. Worst of all, they were firmly set on rejecting their own Messiah and putting Him to death — and this when the Gentile was trying to let Him go.
Pilate's position is a common one. Commentators turn the scene on the reader.
Is there not many a person here in the same moral position as Pilate? Your conscience touches you. You would like to be on the side of the Lord Jesus Christ. You would like to stand up for Him. You would like to be His friend. But then there is the world. You cannot give up the world. You cannot break with it.
Pilate's story also warns what such yielding costs later.
He was weak, and afraid of the crowd's opposition or resentment. So he gave way, against his conscience and his better judgment. "The fear of man lays a snare" (Prov. 29:25). How many since his day have had to reproach themselves bitterly for yielding to that fear!
- Convinced. Pilate knew Jesus was innocent, said so more than once, and worked for His release.
- Compromised. Instead of obeying that conviction he bargained with it. He offered a beating, then Barabbas, and left himself no way back.
- Crowded out. The record says why the sentence fell: not the evidence, but the voices that prevailed.
- Condemning. A Gentile governor tried to free Jesus. That makes His own nation's drive to kill Him the heavier guilt.
- Costly. The fear of man laid the snare. Commentators press it on every reader who wants Christ's side but will not break with the world.
But they cried out in reply saying, Crucify, crucify him.
Pilate had already judged this prisoner innocent. Luke records the crowd's answer as one word, shouted twice over and then repeated again and again. The question the scene forces is why so unjust a demand was the one that won.
They did not simply ask for a death. They named a penalty, and one writer explains what that word carried.
Crucifixion and death are not necessarily the same thing. Crucifixion speaks of judicial dealing, and it assumes that someone has the right to act that way. "Shall I crucify your King?" asked Pilate. "Crucify him, crucify him," was the cry of the crowd. A person might die in many ways, but crucifixion was punishment under law: it was what they did to criminals.
Their own law never used this penalty. That is why they had to take the demand to a Roman governor.
They hanged Him on a tree — "Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree." It was not, as we know, the Jewish way of punishing criminals. The Old Testament Scriptures show that when the Jews put an offender to death, they stoned him. But hanging a man on a gallows was a Gentile, a heathen method of execution. So they handed Christ over to the Romans, saying, "It is not lawful for us to put anyone to death."
It is easy to hear this as mob noise. One writer looks at who led it.
This was not merely the act of an ignorant rabble, or of the common crowd. It was the high priests and religious leaders of the nation who were at the front of that terrible cry, "Crucify Him, crucify Him."
The welcome had come first, from the same city.
Even the children are crying aloud in the streets. Is He indeed to be recognised and accepted as King? Are they ready to dress Him in the purple robe? It is a sad thing for man, for Jerusalem and for Israel! They did not know the time when God came to them. Soon, in place of the shouts of welcome, come the angry cries: "Away with this man!" "Crucify Him!"
Luke gives the reason a few lines later: the voices prevailed.
This may be the most shocking moment in the trial of the Son of God. The judge was convinced. The evidence that the Man Christ Jesus was innocent was overwhelming. Yet we read: "But they were urgent, demanding with loud cries that he should be crucified. And their voices prevailed. So Pilate decided that their demand should be granted." This sentence is the exact opposite of the evidence. The simple but telling reason is that the voices "prevailed." When pressure becomes too strong, political judgement bows to pressure. The Son of Man has no comment to make on any of it: "like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth."
The cry did not condemn one nation only.
So the whole world was proved guilty before God, but no one was more deeply involved than those who should have been the last to do it. The people who had the law fell under its curse. It was not only that they disobeyed its requirements. Worst of all, they were determined to reject their own Messiah and put Him to death — and this while the foreign ruler was trying to let Him go. This is what the world was proved to be, once reality came out through the One who alone was real, the Holy and the True.
The cry exposed the heart that made it.
If we want a perfect standard by which to measure the world, to measure the human heart, to measure sin, we must look at the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ... When the human voice cried out, "Crucify Him! crucify Him!" that voice was the utterance of the human heart, declaring, as nothing else could declare, its true condition in the sight of God... When man preferred a robber and murderer to Christ, he proved that he would rather have robbery and murder than light and love.
The story does not end with the shout. The same city will one day sound very different.
In the very city where He suffered so much shame at His first coming, they will give Him honour and glory... Yes, where they whipped Him, struck Him, spat on Him, tore the hair from His cheek, and cried, "Away with Him! Crucify Him! crucify Him!" — there they will obey Him, serve Him, thank Him and honour Him. And they will cry, "Blessed be His holy name forever and ever!"
- Demand. "Crucify" was not a general call for death. It named a legal punishment, the kind given to criminals.
- Curse. The Jews stoned criminals. Crucifixion was a Gentile execution, and it carried the written curse on everyone hanged on a tree.
- Voices. Religious leaders led the cry as much as the crowd did, and it won for one reason: the voices prevailed over the evidence. The Lord answered nothing.
- Verdict. The shout proved the whole world guilty — most of all the people who had the law, since even the foreign governor wanted to release Him.
- Reversal. The cross measures the human heart at its worst, and the same lips that shouted this will one day bless His name.
And he said the third time to them, What evil then has this [man] done? I have found no cause of death in him I will chastise him therefore and release him.
Pilate has already declared Jesus innocent twice. Here he says it a third time. Then, in the same breath, he offers to have Him whipped before letting Him go. A judge who finds no crime must release the prisoner. So why did Pilate not do it?
Pilate found no crime, yet he did not release Jesus. The crowd drove the case, not the evidence.
It seems Pilate had not expected such a choice, so he tried to reason with the people again. All he heard was their unreasoning, vicious demand: crucify Jesus. For the third time Pilate insisted that he had found no cause in Him for the death penalty. Yet, as before, Pilate said he would have Him whipped. In fact, John tells us that Pilate did whip Him (John 19:1) even before his final efforts to release Him. So Pilate added more injustice than the Jews had demanded.
The offer sounds like mercy. In fact, it handed each side something.
His conclusion, however, must surprise any fair observer: "I will therefore punish and release him" (v. 16). This verdict was designed to serve Pilate's aims and the crowd's at the same time. On the one hand, it would allow Pilate to release Jesus (as he knew he should). On the other hand, it would satisfy the crowd by declaring the Lord guilty in two ways. First, He would be punished — which meant the cruel practice of whipping (John 19:1). Second, He would be released, not because He was innocent, but because Pilate had to release a criminal at the feast. … In one word, Pilate's proposal rested on the principle of compromise.
Pilate did go through with the whipping. Another writer traces what came of it:
Pilate, now in their hands, hands Jesus over to be whipped. It seems he hoped this would satisfy the people, just as his earlier proposal had aimed to do (Luke 23:22), so that he could then release Him. In every compromise of this kind he simply fails, and fails miserably.
The question was asked about a life His enemies had watched for years. They wanted a flaw and never found one.
During His three and a half years of ministry the Saviour lived in the fierce glare of hostile criticism. He did not live apart in the desert, as John the Baptist did. He moved freely among the people. So all the facts of His life were known. If His foes could have discovered a single flaw in Him, how it would have delighted their evil hearts! But He was God's holy One. The Passover lamb was to be "without blemish"; only so could it picture Him who was at once holy in nature and stainless in all His ways.
The words were a legal finding about a charge sheet. They also describe something no other person on earth could have said of himself.
He is One of whom Pilate had to say, "I have found in him no guilt deserving death" (Luke 23:22). Pilate said this as a judge, yet it was true in the fullest sense. We must die. But here at last on earth stands a blessed perfect Man over whom death has no claim. Plenty of cause of death in us, but no cause of death in Him.
The judge cleared Him and sentenced Him anyway. Both sides in that courtroom convicted themselves.
Was there ever such a barefaced travesty of justice? What judge would dare let the accusers' shouting settle the verdict? And here the verdict was death. Pilate passed the death sentence while saying he found no fault in our Lord. That made the Gentiles guilty. The Jews shouted for His death. That made the Jews guilty.
The verdict reached far beyond that courtroom:
So all the world was proved guilty before God, but none were so deeply involved as those whom it least suited. The people who had the law fell under its curse … worst of all, because they were set on rejecting their own Messiah to death, and this when the Gentiles were trying to let Him go. Such was the world shown to be, where the reality came out through Him who alone was real, the Holy and the True. No room for boasting any more. In truth there never was any, but now it is plain and no one can deny it.
- Verdict — Three times the judge stated the same finding: no guilt deserving death. Justice had one next step: release.
- Compromise — "Punish and release" was meant to satisfy his conscience and the crowd at once. It treated an innocent Man as guilty, to look merciful.
- Failure — Every half-measure of this kind fails. The whipping did not save Jesus, and it did not save Pilate. It only added injustice no one had demanded.
- Innocence — "What evil has he done?" met silence. Years of hostile watching had found no flaw in Him — the Lamb without blemish.
- Reversal — The court judged itself. He had no guilt deserving death; we have plenty. The sentence that condemned Him proved the world guilty and left it nothing to boast of.
But they were urgent with loud voices, begging that he might be crucified. And their voices [and those of the chief priests] prevailed.
The trial reaches its decisive moment. The evidence had not changed. The shouting grew louder than the judge's conscience. Two questions follow: why did Pilate give in, and what does the crowd's choice show about the human heart?
Luke calls the crowd "urgent". A Bible dictionary explains the word:
"Urgent" — that is, with persistent, unrelenting pressing. Luke 7:4; Luke 23:23; Acts 26:7; Rom. 12:12; 2 Tim. 4:2.
Everything in the case pointed one way. The sentence went the other. One writer names the reason, and points to the silence of the One on trial:
Despite the convictions of the judge and despite the overwhelming evidence for the innocence of the Man Christ Jesus, we read: "But they were urgent, demanding with loud cries that He should be crucified. And their voices prevailed. So Pilate decided that their demand should be granted" (vs. 23, 24). This sentence goes directly against the evidence. The reason is simple and telling: the "voices prevailed". When pressure becomes too strong, political judgement bows to it. … The Son of Man makes no comment on these proceedings: "like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth" (Isa. 53:7).
Noise alone does not explain why a judge dropped his own verdict. The same writer points to a threat from the crowd that touched Pilate's own position:
It was not only the intensity of the pressure, not only the rage of the crowd, that prompted Pilate to give in. John's Gospel shows the argument that changed his mind: "If you release this man, you are not Caesar's friend" (John 19:12). In politics (and sometimes elsewhere), good relationships with powerful people protect your own position and career. So a just verdict that puts your own prospects and relationships at risk must be avoided at all costs.
Older translations add the chief priests to the voices that prevailed. Commentators say the religious leaders led, the state followed, and both were guilty:
Religious evil had taken the lead in this wickedness. Now it had only to draw the world along to finish it. The civil power had to give in to the deliberate evil of God's people, who had turned away from Him. This is the history of the world. Of the two, the religious side is always nearest to Satan… The guilt of the Jews was complete, and so was the guilt of the Gentiles, for Pontius Pilate declared Him innocent and wanted to release Him. The Roman governor was cruel enough himself, yet he disliked cruelty in others. Still, he would not go so far as to save Him from the hatred of His enemies. That would have cost him something. It threatened his own interest, and Pilate gave way. The one thing that is strong in the world is enmity against Christ.
Pilate had one more way out: a custom of releasing a prisoner. The crowd used it to make a choice. One writer refuses to let readers stand outside that choice:
This compromise not only fails. It shows how deep into evil the Jewish nation had sunk. To carry out the custom, they choose Barabbas, a prisoner held for murder and robbery, to be released. Such is the evil of our hearts. We may dislike a murderer and a thief. Yet if the question is Christ or the murderer, then apart from the grace of God we will choose the murderer — the one who takes life rather than the One Who gives life.
The voices that prevailed turned justice on its head:
The man proven guilty of rebellion against the government and of murder went free. The One whom the judge three times declared faultless was condemned to crucifixion! Pilate must surely have carried a torturing, burning conscience for the rest of his life.
The count in that crowd is the sharpest detail, and one writer turns it into a question for the reader:
Jesus or Barabbas? This was the question which divided them. Surely someone will speak up for Jesus. Not one! I think I hear you say, "I would, had I been there." Well, show yourself on His side now. Side with Jesus, and let the world know, too, that you have done so.
- Urgent — the word means pressing without letting up. They did not argue the case; they wore the judge down.
- Prevailed — the sentence contradicted the evidence for one reason only: the voices won. Judgement bowed to pressure.
- Interest — Pilate's career and standing with Caesar were at stake. A just verdict would have cost him, so he gave way.
- Choice — given a murderer or the One who gives life, the crowd took the murderer. Not one voice spoke for Jesus. Commentators say this exposes every heart, not just theirs.
- Now — the answer to "I would have spoken up" is to take His side today, in the open, where it can still cost something.
And Pilate adjudged that what they begged should take place.
Three times the governor had said he found no guilt in the prisoner. Yet he ends the case with the very verdict the crowd shouted for. That raises the trial's hardest questions: why a judge condemns a man he believes innocent, who carries the guilt, and what God was doing behind it all.
The decisive factor in the courtroom was not proof but volume.
Despite the convictions of the judge and despite the overwhelming evidence for the innocence of the Man Christ Jesus, we read that their voices prevailed and Pilate gave sentence that it should be as they demanded. That sentence goes directly against the evidence, and the simple but telling reason is that the "voices prevailed." When pressure becomes too strong, political judgement bows to pressure. The next verse underlines it: "he delivered over Jesus to their will." The Son of Man makes no comment on these proceedings: "like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so He opened not His mouth" (Isa. 53:7).
Pilate did not give in all at once. His repeated questioning shows a man still fighting himself.
Pilate asked them a third time, "Why? What evil has He done?" Still struggling! Those battles are not settled in a moment. Conscience loves ease too well to yield in a moment. Pilate is on a battlefield until he is conquered.
Passing sentence was more than a legal act. It was the moment the struggle ended:
Then Pilate gave sentence. There is the victory.
Fear conquered him, not argument — and the favour he bought at the cost of justice could still turn on him.
Pilate was not the last to go along with what was wrong for the sake of present advantage. Such a course may look successful at the time. Very often it turns out badly for the person in the end. Sooner or later conscience will speak and make itself heard. And the people whose favour he bought at the cost of righteousness may in the end turn round and attack the one who acted to please him. Pilate proved this… Weak, and afraid of popular opposition or resentment, he yielded against his conscience and better judgment. "The fear of man lays a snare" (Prov. 29:25).
Many people today stand exactly where Pilate stood.
Your conscience stirs you. You would like to be on the side of the Lord Jesus Christ… you would like to stand up for Him, to be His friend, to be on His side. But then there is the world, and you cannot give up the world… They cannot give up their Caesar. "If you release this man, you are not Caesar's friend. Everyone who makes himself a king opposes Caesar." The moment Pilate heard that word, the decision was made.
The verdict spread the guilt in two directions at once — to the judge who passed it and to the crowd who demanded it.
Pilate passed the death sentence while saying he found no fault in our Lord. That made the Gentiles guilty. The Jews shouted for His death, and that made the Jews guilty.
Yet the guilt was not spread equally. Those who had God's law were the ones pressing hardest for the death of their own Messiah.
So all the world was proved guilty before God, but none were so deeply involved as those for whom it was least fitting. The people who had the law fell under its curse. This was not only because they disobeyed its requirements. Worse still, they were set on rejecting their own Messiah and putting Him to death — and this when the Gentile wanted to let Him go.
Granting their demand meant one man walked free and another went to the cross.
The man proven guilty of rebellion against the government and of murder went free. The judge sent the One he had three times declared to be without fault to be crucified!
Under the surface of this injustice, God was working out another purpose.
Barabbas is seen as a chief of sinners, a rebel and a murderer. The feast of redemption offers him a possible release — but only, on the choice Pilate gave, if Jesus is given up. Jesus becomes, as it were, the Substitute for the chief of sinners… Look deeper than the evil wills of men. In the purpose of God we may see that holy Sin-offering, the true passover, which sets even a Barabbas free — not for any good in him, for Barabbas shows none.
- Pressure decides. The verdict followed the loudest voices, not the evidence. When pressure grows strong enough, judgment bends to it.
- Conscience loses. Pilate fought his own conviction three times over. Passing sentence was the moment his conscience lost.
- Fear enslaves. He feared the crowd and Caesar. The fear of man lays a snare, and that bargain pays you back with a bad conscience.
- Guilt spreads. The sentence exposed Gentile and Jew alike, with the heaviest blame on those who had the most light.
- God overrules. Beneath the injustice, the guilty man goes free and the spotless One takes his place. That is substitution, written into the worst crime in history.
And he released him who, for tumult and murder, had been cast into prison, whom they begged for, and Jesus he delivered up to their will.
A murderer walks free. Pilate hands the innocent One over. Luke ends his account of the trial with that exchange, not with a verdict. Two questions follow. What does the crowd's choice show about the human heart? How could such injustice serve God's purpose?
Start with why a prisoner could go free at all, and with who this prisoner was:
This feast celebrated Israel's release from slavery in Egypt. As a favour, they were allowed to release one prisoner at that feast. Barabbas was a terrible character. "Bar" means "son"; "Abbas" — father. Barabbas — "the son of a father." And here was the Son of God! It was a solemn moment for that nation. Before them stood the Lord Jesus, the Son of God, and this wicked man, the son of his father. Here was the Blessed One, the source of life. There was a murderer, the destroyer of life, "who had been thrown into prison for insurrection and murder." It is the choice of the human heart — your heart and mine.
Why prefer a robber? One writer points to a clash of two wills:
They did not choose the gracious Giver who would lay down His life for others. They chose the notable robber who could take life itself to reach his selfish ends. They did not choose the One who carried out God's will for man's blessing. They chose the one who forced his own will to the very end, to God's dishonour and his neighbour's loss... The will of God was THIS MAN'S delight, and the bringing in of God's will meant the displacing of man's.
The verse names Barabbas's crimes, and his release depends on Jesus being given up:
We see him as a chief of sinners, a rebel and a murderer. The feast of redemption offers him a possible release. But it comes only on Pilate's terms: Jesus must be given up. Jesus becomes, as it were, the Substitute for the chief of sinners... Look deeper than the wicked wills of men. In the purpose of God we can see that holy Sin-offering, the true passover. Through Him even a Barabbas may go free — not for any good in him, for Barabbas shows none.
Jesus keeps freeing others, and each time the cost falls on Him:
Even in this last scene, Jesus delivers others at His own cost and in every sense. Just before this, He delivered the disciples from arrest. Now He is the means of delivering Barabbas, wicked as he was. He never saved Himself... Barabbas was guilty and condemned, yet Pilate released him. He might have gone out, looked up at the One hanging on the cross, and said, "He died for me; He paid my penalty."
The verse ends with a Person surrendered, not a sentence passed. Pilate gives Him up to whatever the crowd wants:
The world may do what it likes with Jesus. He is "delivered over to their will." Man does what he wants with the Son of God. Christ allows man to do his worst to Him... He says, "Do your utmost. Do your worst. I shall not complain. And when you have done your worst to Me, then I shall do My best for you." When they had nailed Him to the cross, He dies for them. He died in their stead.
This was not one man's failure. Everyone stood exposed:
All the world was proved guilty before God, but none were so deeply involved as those whom it least became. The people who had the law fell under its curse. It was not only because they broke its commands. Worst of all, they had set themselves to reject their own Messiah and put Him to death — and this while the Gentiles sought to let Him go.
Man's wickedness was real. So was God's plan. Note the two deliveries at once:
How good it is to turn away from man and all his wickedness. Learn instead that the death of our Lord Jesus Christ was not only the result of man's evil, but of the counsels of God. He was "delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God," when men took Him with lawless hands to crucify and kill Him (Acts 2:23)... When Pilate delivered up Jesus to be crucified, God delivered Him for our trespasses (Rom. 4:25).
God's care even shaped which man went free:
Their choice confirms the people's guilt. But there is another side: God watches over the scene. He makes sure that His Son is not released as a guilty criminal who is pardoned, but condemned though innocent.
- Delivered — by men. Pilate hands Jesus over to a crowd's wishes, not to a sentence. He gives the innocent One to the will of the guilty.
- Delivered — for us. Pilate acted in cowardice; God acted with purpose. He delivered up His Son for our trespasses, according to His definite plan.
- Delivered — instead of. Barabbas goes free only because Pilate gives Jesus up. A murderer walks out; the sinless One takes the place he had earned.
- Delivered — at His own cost. He rescues the disciples, then Barabbas, and never once saves Himself.
- Delivered — and all are exposed. Rome sought to let Him go; Israel demanded His death. The choice between Barabbas and Christ is one every heart still makes.