Sitting in a jail cell, legal proceedings going on above him, Barabbas strained to hear any word of his fate. Difficult since the stone walls blocked individual voices—only the shouts of the crowd reached his ears.

Arrested for insurrection, Barabbas knew his crimes called for death. He held little hope, but still his head jerked up when he heard the crowd roar, Barabbas! His insides collapsed when next he heard, Crucify him! A pause, then louder, Crucify him!

Barabbas saw his life ending on a bloody cross.

Led from his cell, Barabbas steeled himself against a rush of anger. But emerging into the crowded square, no one even looked his way. The mob aimed its fury at a man he didn’t recognize.

The crowd hungered for the death of a different insurrectionist, one in the process of overturning the powers of sin and darkness. As Pilate handed Jesus over to the executioners, he released Barabbas, who stood blinking with dumb luck.

Who was the first person Jesus died for?

Barabbas.

What happened next for Barabbas? No one knows. Some say he followed the crowds to Golgotha and watched the crucifixion. I imagine he got out of town before Pilate realized his mistake and arrested him again. Either way, Barabbas disappeared from history.

The first person Jesus died for, the first man whose death penalty Jesus took upon himself, walked away without a word of thanks.

I want a better ending to the story. I want to discover that Barabbas changed his life, followed Jesus, and later became the bishop of Africa or something. But no. This story helps me realize that Jesus died with no expectations, his death places no hold on anyone.

We all choose and despite the Lord’s goodness, some like Barabbas choose to look and walk away.

Matthew 27 in week thirty-four of reading the Bible cover to cover

Portrait of Barabbas by James Tissot (1836–1902)

Prophetic words found in scripture fascinate me. One of the most recognized predictions comes from Isaiah 9, a passage we primarily read during the Christmas season:

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. An he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

I find this lesser known prophecy, written by David towards the end of Psalm 22, especially moving:

All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the Lord…posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord. They will proclaim his righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it!

Here I sit, 3,000 years later, a fortunate recipient of David’s prophecy. Thanks to faithful men and women, generation after generation, despite incredible challenges and hardships and pain, you and I received the gospel. Someone told us about the Lord after a long chain of godly people joyfully proclaimed his righteousness.

And the proclaiming continues—it’s now our turn to declare the Lord’s goodness to a generation yet unborn.

Isaiah 9 & Psalm 22 in week thirty-four of reading the Bible cover to cover

Photo by Michael Dziedzic

In reading through the book of Matthew this last few weeks, a disconcerting phrase continues to appear—weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Jesus uses the phrase 6 times in Matthew (8:12; 13:42 & 50; 22:13; 24:51; 25:30), as well as in the book of Luke (13:28). That’s a lot of repeats. I wonder, why did Jesus emphasis this point, and how do I avoid that fate?

Without an exhaustive study of these passages (which I hope to do later), I notice a couple of things.

First, reasons for being cast into a place of weeping and gnashing involve rejecting faith in the Messiah, and using people for you own ends. Jesus refers to evil, ungrateful, wicked people headed to a place of weeping and gnashing.

Second, choices lie dead ahead. A door in our future awaits, opened based on our faith in Jesus and whether we treat the people God puts in our path with respect and compassion. Or, the door stays shut.

To quote Jesus, Make every effort to enter through the narrow door, because many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able to.

I hear the messaging from all around saying that it’s all ok, do your thing, God loves you and will accept you regardless of how you live. I notice people consumed with life in the here and now, convinced that a conscious eternity is merely a figment of religious imaginations.

But you simply cannot read Jesus and reach these conclusions. Jesus draws lines in the sand: Follow me. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

These markers aren’t hints—Jesus lays down commands. And the mentions of weeping and gnashing of teeth are not only metaphor, but beacons warning of things to come.

I’m of a mind to pay attention.

Matthew 25 in week thirty-three of reading the Bible cover to cover

Photo by Michael Krahn

As Micah prosecutes the Lord’s case against Israel, he explains what the Lord does not need more of—burnt offerings, rivers of olive oil, first-born children. In other words, items of wealth and power, things one might give away to prove devotion.

Micah calls—what does the Lord require of you? Then responds—to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.

Jesus echoes Micah when addressing the Pharisees—you give a tenth of your spices…but you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness…(Matthew 23:23)

These warnings weren’t rejections of religious practices. Paying attention to Biblical commands remained important then, just as it does today. However, many only carried out motions of empty religiosity, and the Lord rejected such vapid devotion.

Instead of strengthening my pious reputation, the Lord asks me to soften my heart.

Act justly. To care about the injustices in the world, to speak up when possible, to try to feel the pain and frustrations experienced by others as they face injustice. I’m not always sure how to put this in practice from my suburban existence, but I can ask the Lord to show me.

Love mercy. To show kindness. To reveal compassion or forgiveness toward others when I have it in my power to punish. Where might I freely and willingly give grace? How might I notice and enjoy the mercy I see in others? To seek out merciful people.

Walk humbly with your God. Consciously consider, and ruminate upon, who I am and where I stand in relation with the Lord. Realize that every good thing comes from the hand of the Lord. Remember that I’m merely made from the dust of the earth, while God spoke that dust into existence. Try to exercise a spirit of humility.

Simple, right? Of course not. Challenging. Counter-cultural. Deeply needed.

When I see and experience the world swirling around me, and I don’t know how to respond, I can double-down on these words—justice, mercy and humility. A life leaning in this direction serves to build, not destroy, and leads us to better places.

Micah 6 in week thirty-three of reading the Bible cover to cover

Photo by Jon Tyson