Carny Catholics
As Palm Sunday readings annually prefigure, and as Good Friday approaches, once again we are reminded of the often twisted intersect between secular government and religion and how one “uses” the other to free or exonerate the Barabbas’s of the world and crucify the innocent.
Palm Sunday always emphasizes the impactful persons of Judas Iscariot, Pontius Pilate and (Jeshu) Barabbas. The betrayer fell by avarice and may have experienced disappointment that Jesus was not a political military leader . The governor of the Roman province of Judaea who oversaw the trial of Jesus Christ valued his earthly political power over justice. Barabbas became the revolutionary rebel figure of mankind that pursues violence to achieve end goals. Whether his was in any way a spiritual mission seems questionable.
Nothing much has changed in 2,000 years, as traitors are still among us and in the church. Secular and religious politicians seek self preservation at the expense of truth and love. The frustrated depend on themselves and temporal means to enact change.
One common thread between two of these is that Judas and Pontius Pilate would recognize and acknowledge the innocence of Jesus before the Crucifixion. If Barabbas ever did has become the subject of historical fiction and speculation.
Judas plotted to turn over Jesus for thirty pieces of silver, and audaciously kissed the Master’s cheek near the Garden of Gethsemane as a signal to the Roman soldiers. However, Judas would attempt to return the silver to the chief priests and elders, saying “I have sinned in betraying innocent blood.” (Matthew 27:3-4). So, it seems even in the fog of evil influence, Judas experienced some remorse. Pope Benedict XVI in a 2006 address: “Never Despair of God’s Mercy”, asserted “It is not for us to judge his gesture (Judas hanging himself), putting ourselves in God’s place, who is infinitely merciful and just.
Though Pontius Pilate, a Roman ‘supreme judge’ eventually turned over Jesus for crucifixion, he washed his hands, declaring, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” (Matthew 27:24) Importantly, this was the culmination of a “back and forth” between Pilate and the Jewish crowd. One could contend that what Pilate really desired was to “wash his hands” of any involvement in what he perceived to be a ridiculous religious squabble among a population he disdained anyway. However self preservation forced his hand, washed or not.
Thus, every time we pray the Apostle’s Creed, the words should cause us to pause, “and suffered under Pontius Pilate” and the Nicene Creed, “For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate.” The Catholic Catechism clarifies Pontius Pilate’s role via God’s permissive will, but also that this participant’s “personal sin is known to God alone.” (CCC 597). Thus, we must also retain the same attitude towards many in our midst.
Still, what about Barabbas, as the surrogate, perennial figure that threatens to displace surrender to the cross with a muscular agenda to establish heaven on earth?
His being signifies the very antagonism that drives a wedge between good and evil in our time; between that which in this world leads to perdition and that which exemplifies wondrous citizenship in the City of God. His role during the proceedings before Pontius Pilate also emphasizes the contradiction between temporal justice and virtuous Justice, as dramatically played out daily across our nation.
Certainly Pontius Pilate experienced some confusion over the crowd’s intense, insistence over which person to release, even as the Roman perfect hoped for some “common sense” if nothing else from the Jews. Before Pilate stood a calm, contemplative man, Jesus Christ, obviously a persevering, nonviolent, silent figure who seemed almost resigned to to the fate of crucifixion. He even affirmed that his kingdom was not of this world (John 18:36). This was a rebel against Rome? Then, too, Pilate may have heard of Jesus Christ’s generosity and healing and of his triumphant welcome into Jerusalem just days previously. Why would the Jews now demand Pontius Pilate kill him?
Then there was Barabbas who was a a notorious insurrectionist. Not much is known about him except his name translates into “son of the father” and ironically, his prefix name was Jeshu (Jesus). Despite being labeled a thief—a bandit, the word used for him was not the Greek “kleptes” but “lestes” which would have been a reference to a gang member. How could the so-called intellectual, law obsessed Pharisees and Scribes push the crowd to bring this thug into the neighborhood again?
Numerous Catholic theologians have commented on Barabbas and these are readily available on line, in periodicals, seasonal commentaries, books, and even movies and novel. Anthony Esolen, acclaimed Catholic lecturer, translator and writer, considers the 1950 novel Barabbas by Nobel winner Par Lagerkvist, though an agnostic, among the greatest religious novels of the 20th century. The novel was brought to film, one most known in 1961 with Anthony Quinn in the title role.
However to summarize, these, along with other Christians, commentators generally agree on a few salient points: The life of Barabbas starkly contrasts that of the “Suffering Servant,” Jesus Christ. As a rebellious murderer Barabbas and his gang —of which some believe two were crucified on either side of Jesus— sought to create a violent uprising against the Romans. Theirs was a worldly, political revolution, whereas Jesus Christ succeeded in revolutionizing how man perceives and seeks the Kingdom of God. Barabbas and his followers lifted up swords; Jesus Christ was lifted up on a Cross. Barabbas brazenly threatened and loudly welded great physical force; Jesus Christ was humble and silent, yet incorporated the entire universe in his being, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. Barabbas hurt people and sought the destruction of enemies; Jesus Christ taught to love one’s enemies and healed them, body and soul.
Two, the spirit of Barabbas resides in each of us. We are all conflicted sinners who have struggled between dependence on temporal activism and trust in God . We are easily tempted to reject if not scorn the meek bug also combat those we consider “evil doers.” Would we have responded differently had we been at the first Good Friday? We frequently desire an earthly “warrior king” instead of the King of Kings. We envy or dispute the powerful even as we attempt to dethrone them for our own ascension to domination over others. Except for the holiest among us, even the devout grow weary, exasperated, and call for the “end times.”
Three, there is hope for redemption even among the greatest terrorists. We do not know definitively what happened to Barabbas in the end. Nothing more is mentioned in the New Testament. Some traditional Christian sources also fail to reference him, but later legends hint at the possibility of conversion. Here, again, we resemble Barabbas as nothing is final until our last moment.
Still, look around, and we witness multitudes of Barabbas’s, from the lone wolf to massive protests that result in injury and widespread damage. Callously, individuals kill their perceived enemies for slight battery or rage against the prosperous. Repeatedly, the crowds demand the anti-Christian perpetrators’ release and the imprisonment of Christians. Then, those who oppose the tantrums often merely espouse worldly solutions instead of a much needed spiritual revival and return to natural law. Everyone needs to recognize the Barabbas’s inner midst and within and instead of jeering, embrace the Cross.
It helps to recall Jesus Christs last seven words, particularly, “I thirst,” which after forgiving trespassers and entrusting his mother to John, he uttered in a plea for our love. Catholic Bible scholar Brant Pitre clarifies the Church’s position on the horrid statement by the then Jewish crowd (yet representing mankind): “May his (Jesus’s) blood be upon us and our children” that ultimately translates into our plea “to let his Divine Blood be upon us and our children,” cleansing us and freeing us from sin and death. A plethora of supportive resources, so many free, can assist us even as we contemplate the Sorrowful Mysteries in Ordinary times. Two exceptional recommendations: Mother Teresa’s I Thirst: Forty Days with Mother Teresa. See the Youtube meditation if you cannot obtain the book. The other, Father Benedict Groeschel’s Tears of God: Persevering in the Face of Great Sorrow or Catastrophe
The crisis does not end at the trial of Jesus Christ or even the Crucifixion. The pivotal choice between Christ the King and kings of this world ever looms over our consciences. The victory of Jesus Christ on the Cross, one that transcends the Roman Empire and earthly barriers to the very depth of our souls should spark hope for all the Barabbas’s in our midst and the Barabbas within us.