Mark 14:1–15:47
In Mark 15, as Jesus is before Pilate and only moments away from his own crucifixion, there is a moment where Jesus serves again as Christ the liberator. Through his commitment to nonviolence, through his submission to God’s will, Jesus frees Barabbas.
This is not the story I was taught to believe. In my upbringing, I was taught that Barabbas was an animal, the personification of all that is bad. I was taught that he was a murderer, likely a rapist, a violent threat to the community.
I was taught about Barabbas the things that are taught to us about all prisoners: they deserve to be cast out, thrown away, and discarded, because they are not worthy of being released into our community.
Along with this, I was taught this story in ways that reinforce anti-Semitism — that the Jewish crowd would have chosen a violent and present danger to the Messiah.
These falsehoods, or at best exaggerations, are not found in scripture. At best, Barabbas was a “notorious prisoner” who had been involved in riots against the Roman government, and probably killed in the process. Despite Pilate’s surprise at the crowd’s insistence that Jesus Barabbas be freed and Jesus of Nazareth crucified, the text gives us no proof that this was out of concern for their communal safety.
Unsurprisingly, the label of “prisoner” serves to make it much easier to see these actions as unforgivable and monstrous. Compare how you were taught to feel about Barabbas to how you were taught to feel about Moses killing the Egyptian.
In Jesus we have an example of peace, nonviolent resistance, a following of God’s desire (a desire Jesus names as liberating those who are oppressed), which in the process frees a prisoner.
It’s actually beautiful, in a way. As you go forward, imagine Barabbas as someone shocked at his chance for freedom not because he is bloodthirsty, but because he misses his family. Imagine him looking at Jesus of Nazareth and wondering why this resistor is not resisting with violence, and perhaps believing that there might be a better way. Imagine Barabbas as a victim of the oppressive government he is under. Extend to Barabbas a mercy that Christ extended. Let him go free, and let go of our compulsion to see the incarcerated as we do.
May we instead see them as Christ, as God in the flesh. May we practice good religion, visiting them and caring for their needs. May we follow Christ into liberation, practicing abolition in our politics and economy.
Mitchell Atencio (he/him/his) is a discalced writer and photographer based in Washington, D.C.