A New Realization

         Barabbas stood there, stunned, staring at the open prison gate. What did that soldier mean, “free”? What kind of practical joke was this that they were playing, not only telling him he was free to go, but even going so far as to open the gate?
         Hesitantly, Barabbas stepped toward the opening, his eyes shifting warily between the guards. He noticed one of the guards tapping his foot, another rolling his eyes. Clearly, they were growing impatient waiting for him to believe them, and their conversation changed to other topics.
         “Can you believe that this was their pick?” the taller one asked, gesturing to Barabbas.
         “Not really. Who would willingly choose to put a killer back on the streets? But then again, I’ve never really understood this strange Hebrew custom of releasing criminals,” the smaller guard replied, turning away from Barabbas so that he was facing the other guard.
         “Most of these Hebrew customs are confusing to try to actually understand. What really confuses me, though, is the crowd’s choice to release this guy over the guy out there with Pilate right now. This Barabbas is known as a killer. Can you imagine what this Nazarene must have done to be considered a greater threat?!”
         “Really, that is the strangest part. The only accusation I heard about him is that he claims to be ‘King of the Jews.’ It is a curious title … but why it is of Roman concern is beyond me ….”
         Barabbas walked past these guards as their conversation continued, still largely expecting to be stopped by one of them. He knew of his people’s tradition of releasing a prisoner, but had no idea if it was really Passover time. Time slips away when a person is shut away from society, even for just a few months.
         As Barabbas left the prison, he tried to form a plan of what he could do now. He knew he couldn’t go home; no one there had believed him innocent, and the news that he had been granted a holiday pardon wasn’t something he could believe, and he was living it! He knew the simple people from his hometown would never accept him back into his old life, but he didn’t know where else to go. At a loss for answers, he entered the bright desert sunshine, blinking furiously as his eyes desperately tried to adjust, undecided as to where his next step should lead him.
         Barabbas paused, taking in the sights and sounds of Jerusalem, realizing that this was very likely his only true chance to see this holy city in all of its splendor. Startled, he realized that the loudest sound he could hear, drowning out all others, were the shouts of the people nearby. Concentrating on the sound, he began to make out the words they were shouting. “Crucify him! Crucify him!” Suddenly, he remembered the guards’ conversation, and realized that the same man that this crowd wanted crucified was, in some way, the man responsible for setting him free.
         Barabbas was struck with a strong desire to see this Nazarene. The crowd was easy to spot, and as he reached it, he struggled to push his way into a position from which he could see. Before he could see anything beyond the crowd, he could hear the commanding voice of Pontius Pilate. Momentarily, his thoughts drifted to the long moments during which he found himself facing that same man, waiting for his own fate to be decided. Although he had been present during the killings that he was accused of committing, he knew he was not responsible for their deaths. However, he never stood in front of Pilate expecting to be let free. He knew that he was going to end up dying in a Roman prison as soon as his name was mentioned along with the string of killings which finally ended with the brutal slaying of a Roman guard. Yet somehow, he now found himself once again on the outside of those prison walls, still very much alive.
         Focusing on the present, Barabbas was finally able to make himself a space among all of the faces in the crowd. Looking up, he caught sight of the man who had somehow taken his place as the one whose blood the crowd was screaming for. The Nazarene’s face was turned away, but as far as Barabbas could see, there seemed to be little truly remarkable about the man. He seemed gentle enough, and mysteriously passive in the face of these charges and the horrible sentencing that the crowd was pronouncing for him, but nothing truly set him apart. Then, suddenly, the Nazarene turned his head and stared directly at Barabbas. For a split second, it seemed their eyes met and caught.
         Barabbas felt a wave of forgiveness, stronger that he had ever experienced before, wash over him in that moment, and had the distinct sense that this man, up in front of hundreds, knew exactly who Barabbas was, deeper than he knew himself, and was thinking only of him. As the Nazarene again turned to look silently upon Pilate, Barabbas thought he could detect just a glimmer of joy in the man’s eyes. Stunned, Barabbas seemed frozen to the spot, unable to understand what he had just experienced.
         Realizing that he had to leave Jerusalem before these people screaming for crucifixion turned their focus back upon him, Barabbas left the crowd and looked for a quiet place where he could observe the Passover without attracting notice. While he began to plan his trip to escape far away from this city where he had been unjustly imprisoned, he let his mind wander once again to the events of the day of his release. Trying to convince himself that he hadn’t imagined those feeling as he stared into the Nazarene’s eyes, he relived the scene again in his thoughts.
         Quietly maintaining a low profile, Barabbas stayed in Jerusalem for a few days, making final arrangements before he all but disappeared into a foreign city. Although he had never heard of him before he had been imprisoned, it seemed that this Nazarene was all that many people in Jerusalem were now talking about. Barabbas found out that this man’s name was Jesus, known as the “Son of God.” Even after his death, the town was buzzing about him, sharing stories of his works in the past years, the miracles some claimed he performed, and his death right in front of many of their own eyes just days ago. Barabbas himself had heard some remarkable stories about him, but nothing beat the rumors of resurrection that surfaced a few days later. Although Barabbas knew that these stories were too fantastical to believe, every time he stopped to consider the possibility, he thought of that day when he once again became just part of the crowd. That day, before he knew anything about this man, he knew there was something special about Jesus, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to doubt the truth he had seen in the Nazarene’s eyes.