Then Pilate said to Him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world—to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to My voice.” Pilate said to Him, “What is truth?” After he had said this, he went back outside to the Jews and told them, “I find no guilt in Him. But you have a custom that I should release one man for you at the Passover. So do you want me to release to you the King of the Jews?”
They cried out again, “Not this man, but Barabbas!”
Now Barabbas was a robber.
(John 18:37-40, ESV)
I’ll never forget the first time I learned Barabbas means son of the Father.
Son of the Father. The people were literally pleading for a messiah, but they were so blinded by sin and their own ambitions and desires they missed what was right in front of them. They cried out for a Savior all the while the prophesied Messiah was standing a few feet away.
What is our Barabbas?
We all have one. The person, thing, activity or event we try to put the label “messiah” on. We long for redemption, though we can’t always articulate it, and we look for things—anything, really—or people (most of the time the elusive “one”), that will rescue us.