We see this if we consider -

I. WHAT HE MIGHT HAVE DONE UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES There is no virtue in not doing thus if we cannot do otherwise. But what could Jesus do now?

1. He might have not visited the garden on this night. He knew all that was coming. He knew that the devil of piltering and covetousness had entered Judas, and that he was then in the city betraying him to his thirsty and cruel foes. He entered not the garden in ignorance of what was coming. It would be the easiest thing for him to go elsewhere.

2. He might have escaped before his foes were upon him. Apart from his absolute knowledge of things, the gleaming light and subdued talk of the hostile throng would give him sufficient warning, and he could have made his escape under the cover of friendly trees. His little guard slept fast; but he was awake, and specially sensitive to every approaching sight and sound.

3. He might have disappeared from his foes in their very presence. He might have let them come upon him so as to think that he was in their hands, and then at once vanish away from their very clutches, disappoint their fondest hopes, and make fools of them all.

4. He might, with his power, strike them dead, or into a fit so as to make their hostile attack quite futile. He just showed them what he could do when he said, "I am he;" they went backwards, and fell to the ground. What produced this? Was it a flash of his Divinity from without striking terror to his assailants, or a flash of memory from within of his mighty deeds? or was it the effect of the simple moral courage and majesty of that defenseless but heroic One? However, they fell to the ground - a striking illustration of what he might have done.

5. He might have received almighty help from his Father. If he at this time had not many earthly friends, and those not very strong nor skilful in human warfare, he was rich in heavenly allies, and these were all at his command, as he told one of his followers, "Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father," etc.? One of these with the brush of his wing slew the mighty Assyrian army, and one of them would slay all Christ's enemies it he so wished. But he did not use his power nor influence in his own defense. He had sufficient courage to stand all alone.

II. WHAT HE DID.

1. He remained in the garden. He was perfectly self-composed. He had a special work to do in the garden. There the coming battle was morally fought and won. There he trained himself for the encounter, edged his sword and put on his armor, and viewed the battle-field. He was too busily engaged with his Father and the business of his life to be disturbed by the approaching foe.

2. He went forth to meet his enemies. He had finished his work there, and his language and action were, "Let us arise, and go hence." He went forth to meet them. His courage was not rash, but discreet, and under the guidance of perfect wisdom. He never went forth to meet his enemies before, for his hour was not come; but now his hour was come, and as soon as he heard the clock strike it, instead of waiting their arrival, he went forth to meet them. He had a great work to do in an hour, and there was no time to lose. His courage completely spoilt their anticipated sport of a chase or a fight.

3. He made himself known to them. He could ask them with firmness, "Whom seek ye?" but tremblingly they replied, "Jesus of Nazareth." The Roman soldiers had unflinchingly faced many mighty foes, but this defenseless Jesus of Nazareth overpowered them with his majesty. "I am he" proved too much for them. They fell to the ground. And the collision would have proved fatal to them were it not for the buffers of his goodness and mercy. Judas's kiss was unnecessary; Jesus introduced himself.

4. He went forth, although knowing all. '" Knowing all things," etc. His knowledge in one sense was disadvantageous to him. There is a certain amount of ignorance connected with all human bravery. Hope of escape and victory is an element in the heroism of the bravest soldier. If we knew all our future, it would go far to unnerve our courage and paralyze our energies; but Christ knew all. He had mentally gone through all the tortures of the next few hours. He knew that death with all its pains and shame was but a drop to the ocean of his agonies. He knew infinitely more than the soldiers and the disciples. They only knew the outward; he knew the inward. They only knew the visible; he knew the invisible. They only knew a part; he knew all. The weight of death was nothing to the weight of sin he had to hear. He knew this in all its bearings and bitterness; but in spite of all, such was his courage that, in this hour of trial, he did not flag, but went forth.

III. THE SOURCES OF HIS COURAGE. What courage was his?

1. The courage of an exceptionally great nature. We must have an adequate cause to every effect. The heroism of Jesus, although human, yet often towered above it and became Divine. He was the Word made flesh, and God manifested in the flesh. He was a perfect Man, but ever united with Divinity - full of Divine life which made him triumphant over death and its agonies.

2. The courage of loving obedience to his Father's will. He was ever conscious of this. It was his delight, and the inspiration of his life. "My meat and my drink," etc.; "The cup that my Father hath given," etc.? It is bitter, but I shall drink from his hand whatever may be the consequences.

3. The courage of conscious rectitude and innocency. Guilt and imposture make a man a coward, while rectitude and innocency make him a hero. Conscious of the Divinity of his mission, the purity of his life, the guilelessness of his spirit, and the rectitude of his motives, Jesus went forth to meet his foes; and this consciousness raised him so far above timidity as to clothe him with the majesty of Divine heroism, which sent them reeling to the ground.

4. The courage of perfect knowledge of results. He not only knew his sufferings, but also his joys; not only the shame, but also the glory; not only the apparent defeat, but the subsequent grand victories. He could see life in his death for myriads, and glory in the highest. With the agonizing groans of Gethsemane were mingled the anthems of triumph, and in the gleam of torches and lanterns he could see the world flooded with light, and heaven with glory and happiness.

5. The courage of self-sacrificing and disinterested love. In the greatest bravery of selfishness there is an element of cowardice; but in Christ there was not a taint of selfishness, - his life was absolutely a sacrifice for others. He would not implicate others in his hour of trial, but gave himself to save them - and all this was voluntary. The volunteer is ever more courageous than the pressed soldier. The courage of Jesus was that of a volunteer, and his heroism that of Divine and self-sacrificing love.

LESSONS.

1. The foes of Jesus were the unconscious ministers of Divine justice demanding his life as a raison for sin. They were inspired by hatred to Jesus, but this hatred was overruled to answer the most benevolent purpose.

2. Jesus personally and willingly gave his life up for this purpose. He was most anxious that justice should be paid in the genuine coin, and not in counterfeit. "If ye seek me, let," etc.

3. In consequence of his meeting the demand of justice by his life, he demands the release of his friends. "if ye seek me," etc. He does not ask this as a favor, but demands as his right.

4. This demand is most readily granted. In this instance they were not touched. Justice cannot resist the logic of Christ's death and intercession with regard to believers. If the accepted surety pay, the debtor is free.

5. The infinite importance to be united by faith with Christ. Then the chastisement of our peace is upon him, but otherwise it must be upon ourselves. - B.T.

The name seems to tell a tale. Bar, signifies "son;" as, Barjonah, "son of John;" and Bartholomew, "son of Tolmai;" abbas was the Greek form of the Hebrew word for "father." It looks as if the name here had, years before, been given in fond endearment to this creature when young, and that it meant "father's own boy." Perhaps there was sadness in the unfolding of the young life, and by degrees the bud of promise burst into a flower of deadly nightshade. We know nothing with certainty; but on such a subject as this the imagination will work, and we think of the "father's boy" as ruined by unwise fondness; we see the natural history of such indulgence in the indulged child becoming the sorrow of his father and the shame of his race. Whatever was the process we here see the result. Are the officers of justice looking for the hand that accomplished the last bold robbery? or that applied the match that made the last explosion? or the hand that struck the last blow in the dark? or has there been a secret muster of dangerous force, and they want to find the "head centre" of the conspiracy, and the captain of the gang? I think that in many such searchings, Barabbas was the criminal wanted. On this occasion, he had been arrested as the leader of an insurrection, and under colour of political aspirations was a convicted robber and murderer. It has even been thought by critics who are not to be slighted that this adventurer professed to be the leader of a religious as well as a political revolt, and that he arrogated to himself the title of "Messiah." "Jesus," we are told by some authorities, was one of his names, and that Pilate's question took the form, "Do you wish that I should release to you Jesus who is called the Christ, or Jesus Barabbas?" There he stands! "Dangerous" is written on his face, — robber, plotter, desperado, murderer, caught red-handed; at the sight of him horror creeps over me, my heart beats hard throbs, and the muscles of my hand stand out like cords of iron. "Jews! Turn your eyes away from this type of demonized humanity, and look at Him against whom he has been set up as rival, Jesus, the wiser than the wisest, kinder than the kindest, purer than the purest, better than the best; what say you, will you release Him?" When this appeal is made, the cry comes back, "Not this Man, but Barabbas."

(C. Stanford, D. D.)

Not the only time that a robber has been preferred to Christ. It is a choice that is made by multitudes in Christian England, as it was by that infuriated rabble eighteen hundred years ago. Why should I mince matters? You are preferring something before Christ. Its name may not be Barabbas. The ban of society may not rest upon it. And yet for all that, it is a robber.

1. It robs you; it robs you of peace, happiness, Christ. Anything you choose before Him robs you of Him. He will take no second place in your heart.

2. It robs Christ of you. You belong to Him; He made you; He bought you with His blood. Many prefer —

I. THEIR SINS TO CHRIST. Jesus stands before you. Deity come down to humanity, humanity exalted into Deity. He says, "Come unto Me." But men refuse. Failing there, He stands, shall I say higher, or lower still? On Calvary; and thence His dying voice again says — "Come." But — will you believe it? — this call of a dying Redeemer dies away unheeded. "Not this Man, but" — but — oh! who or what is this rival, who blinds your eyes to the grace of that heavenly form? Sin is its name, that hideous, deformed, repulsive thing.

1. Sin is a robber. It robs you of —(1) Your peace of mind. The sinner is not a happy man. "There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked."(2) Heaven. Remember, while you are imbibing its stolen draughts, and rolling its forbidden fruit as a sweet morsel under your tongue, that is not the end of it. You would not knowingly harbour a thief beneath your roof, and yet you scruple not to make a home for sin in your heart — that heart for which Jesus is asking and waiting in vain.

2. Sin, like Barabbas, is also a leader in sedition. What is it that disturbs the peace of nations, that snaps the bonds of fraternity, and breaks up the foundations of a people's prosperity, but sin?

3. Like Barabbas, sin is a murderer — it was a murderer from the beginning; it murders souls with an eternal dying.

II. EASE AND SELF-INDULGENCE. Here we come from the outer circle of the world into the inner circle of the Church. How many pay Christ the compliment of coming to church once a Sunday, and here their service begins and ends! There are men who name that name which is the synonym for all that is disinterested and unselfish, who think more of their champagne than they think of the Church, and who give more for their champagne than they give to their Saviour. If I were an author, ambitious of signalizing myself by writing the shortest volume ever known, I would come to some of the members of our genteel suburban churches, and ask their permission to write an account of what they are doing for Christ and for the world. Brief indeed would be the history! A solitary cipher would describe all that many are doing for the Lord that bought them, and for a perishing world! There is a passage that must be a precious solace to some so-called Christians — "We which have believed do enter into rest." But remember, that is the labourer's rest after toil, not the idler's rest from toil. But I have another passage to set over against this — "Woe unto them that are at ease in Zion!" Yes, woe, for this ease is a Barabbas, a robber.

1. It robs your fellow-mere There are multitudes of ignorant, hungry, afflicted, dying, to whom a Christian visit is like an angel's presence. Your selfishness robs them of that.

2. It robs Christ of the reward of His sufferings, of jewels to His crown. Who knows what little one might have been led to Jesus had you taken your place in the Sabbath-school?

3. It robs yourselves —(1) Of present happiness. It is the working Christian who is the happy Christian. While "he waters others, he is watered also himself."(2) Of the Divine approbation; it will deprive you of that encomium at the day of reckoning which it were well worth spending a thousand lives to hear — "Well done, good and faithful servant: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." You are loving your ease better than Christ. What if Christ had loved His ease better than you?

III. GAIN. All some men are living for is pounds, shillings, and pence, as though no Christ had ever lived and died. There was no room for Christ in the inn; there is no room for Him in the shop and in the counting-house, I fear. Now, this Barabbas is a robber. Ah! you think that you are growing rich; but instead of this, you are being daily robbed, and growing unutterably poor. You would soon be alert if you thought a thief was at your till. This Barabbas of mammon is robbing you —

1. Of your precious probation time here on earth.

2. Of your souls. Wealth is "the pearl of great price," that lies in the field of business, and men will sell all that they have to enable them to buy that field. They will sell their veracity, their honour, their principles, their manliness, and of necessity, in the end lose their souls. But "what shall it profit a man," &c.

(J. Halsey.)

I. THE SIN AS WE FIND IT IN THIS HISTORY. The sin will be more clearly seen if we remember that —

1. The Saviour had done no ill. No law, either of God or man, had He broken.

2. He had even conferred great temporal blessings upon them. Oh ravening multitude, has He not fed you when you were hungry? Did He not heal your sick?

3. Wherein did His teaching offend against morality or the best interests of man? What did He preach for? No selfish motive could have been urged. The true reason of their hate, no doubt, lay in the natural hatred of all men to perfect goodness. To be too holy in the judgment of men is a great crime, for it rebukes their sin.

II. THE SIN WHICH HAS BEEN THE GUILT OF THE WORLD IN ALL AGES, AND WHICH IS THE WORLD'S GUILT NOW.

1. When the apostles went forth to preach the gospel, and the truth had spread through many countries, there were severe edicts passed by the Roman Emperors. Against whom were these edicts framed? Against the foul offenders of that day. I find that they were borne with and scarcely mentioned with censure; but tortures of every kind, were used against the innocent, humble followers of Christ.

2. Then the world changed its tactics; it became nominally Christian. The Pope of Rome put on the triple crown, and called himself the Vicar of Christ; then came in the abomination of the worship of saints, angels, and images, the mass, &c., and every head bowed before the sovereign representative of Peter at Rome. The Church of Rome was equal in sin to Barabbas.

3. Since that day the world has changed its tactics yet again; in many parts of the earth Protestantism is openly acknowledged, and the gospel is preached, but what then? Then comes in the Barabbas of mere ceremonialism, orthodoxy, or morality.

III. THIS WAS THE SIN OF EVERY ONE OF US BEFORE OUR CONVERSION.

1. What company did you like best? Was it not that of the frivolous, if not that of the profane? When you sat with God's people, their talk was very tedious.

2. When we had time for thinking, what were our favourite themes?

3. And what were our pleasures?

4. Some of us have to confess with shame that we were never more in our element than when conscience ceased to accuse us and we could plunge into sin with riot. What was our reading then? Any book sooner than the Bible.

4. What were our aspirations then? Self was what we lived for.

5. Where did we spend our best praise? Did we praise Christ? No; we praised cleverness, and when it was in association with sin, we praised it none the less. It would have been the same to-day with us, if almighty grace had not made the difference. It was mighty grace which made us to seek the Saviour.

IV. THERE ARE DOUBTLESS MANY HERE WHO THIS DAY PREFER BARABBAS TO CHRIST.

1. Let me state your case. There are those who would have been followers of Christ but that they preferred —

(1)Drunkenness.

(2)Some favourite lust.

(3)Gain.

(4)Acquaintances and friends.

2. Let me plead Christ's cause with you. Why is it that you reject Christ? Are you not conscious of the many good things which you receive from Him? You would have been in hell but for Him? Why will you prefer your own gain and self-indulgence to that blessed One to whom you owe so much?

(C. H. Spurgeon.)

Tremellius was a Jew from whose heart the veil had been taken away, and who had been led by the Holy Spirit to acknowledge Jesus as the Messiah. The Jews who condemned Christ had said "Not this man," &c. Tremellius, when near his end, glorying in Christ alone and renouncing whatever came in competition with Him said, "Not Barabbas but Jesus."

(Whitecross.)

I. POPULAR. Popular election wrong for once! Vox populi non semper vox Dei.

II. FRENZIED. When passion rules judgment dies.

III. CRIMINAL. They desired a murderer and killed the Prince of Life (Acts 3:14).

IV. FOOLISH. They chose an enemy and rejected a Friend, and such a Friend l

V. FATAL. It sealed their destruction as a people.

VI. PREDICTED (Isaiah 53:3).

VII. OVERRULED. It brought salvation to the world, even to the Jews (cf. Psalm 76:10; Amos 5:8; Isaiah 40:4; Romans 8:8).

(T. Whitelaw D. D.)

Barabbas was a robber; but He was not a common thief. He was a political adventurer, as we gather from combining the narratives. The two "malefactors" were probably His comrades; and it is not hard to identify the section of the people to whom he belonged. They were "Zealots," men whose resentment of heathen usurpation was so profound and bitter that they would keep no truce with Rome. They would pay neither toll nor tax, and in their continual risings became mere brigands robbing and murdering to gratify personal passion as well as religious ends. Judas the Gaulonite (Acts 5:37) is mentioned by Josephus as the earliest distinguished leader of the party; and to his action the historian traces the downfall of the Jewish nation. Theudas was another of their leaders; Simon the Cananaean, one of Christ's disciples, had been originally of their numbers; and Paul was supposed (Acts 21:38) to be implicated in their proceedings. Jut]as is said to have risen up "in the days of the taxing" (cf. Luke 2:1). The movement, therefore, was about the age of Jesus. He found Himself surrounded by its influences, but He from the first distrusted and repelled it. His hostility to such methods of advancing the kingdom of God is shown in the temptation. Throughout His ministry He was beset by the temptation to aim at political influence for the advancement of God's kingdom, and to encourage political expectations to His followers. It was presented to Him by His friends and by His enemies, and by the people who were neither, but were ready to become either according as He should flatter or deny their hope of deliverance from Rome. A signal instance of the disappointment of the people is recorded in chap. John 6. When He declined the crown "many of His disciples went back," &c. Another incident occurred when the Pharisees and Sadducees came "tempting Him "to show them a sign from heaven, some portent which should prove His Messiahship by the overthrow of the powers of the world. He promised them no sign but that of Jonas — the minister of God's mercy to the Gentiles. Perceiving the impossibility of satisfying the people's requirements, and forecasting the issue, He set Himself to prepare the disciple's for it and "from that time forth to show how He must be rejected," &c. The incident of the tribute money brought the climax nearer. His recognition of Caesar was repressive of the people's hopes, and shut Him out from being their representative. And now they who a few months before had asked Him, "How long dost Thou make us to doubt?" declare that they are no longer in doubt. There had come to the Jews one of those critical hours which sometimes arrive for men and nations, when their hesitancy is determined; when they do an irrevocable deed, and in doing it reveal their deepest choice, what has been the actual bent of their purpose all the time of their apparent indecision. The Jews rejected Christ because His spirit and purpose were not theirs. Barabbas was their true representative, not Christ; henceforth Barabbas will be their leader; with Barabbas they will fall and be judged. The chief priests and elders have alienated the people finally from Jesus; but to do this they have betrayed their trust. They are no longer the people's leaders; they are drawn on in the current of the feeling they invoke. They have flattered the prejudices and aroused the passions of the crowd; in the great disasters which subsequently befell the nation they were either the unwilling instruments of popular prejudice, or the victims of the fury of the mob. To recognize the full significance of their action we must remember that up to this, they had been uncommitted to the violent procedure of men like Barabbas. The Zealots were popular heroes, but they had met with no favour from the heads of the nation: the priestly party objected both to their objects, and to their way of securing them; and elders from among the Pharisees, while partially sympathising with their spirit, absolutely disapproved their methods. But the malice of the rulers against Jesus was more potent than their convictions concerning the destiny and policy of their nation: they were ready to face any possibility rather than that Jesus should escape. The same self-abandonment which afterwards appeared in their cry, "We have no king but Caesar," is evident in their stirring up the multitude to ask for Barabbas. They are twice betrayers of their nation. They encourage the people in the way of insurrection; they invoke Caesar as their king. The final result of their action was seen when Jerusalem was compassed about with armies and torn by intestine strife. Barabbas holding garrison in the Temple, and Caesar thundering at the gates — "Whose was the anguish in that death hour?" The world contains no record of horrors like the seige of Jerusalem; and the most frightful feature of the narrative is the conduct of the Zealots. They had proved themselves men void of understanding, with neither ruth nor scruple; and yet the people could not cast off the habit of obeying them: there were no other leaders whom they could choose. The name "Zealots" was lost in their other name, "murderers" — Sicarii, or dagger-men. The whole city was given up to their government, and their conduct was such as to move the heart of Titus, who invoked God to witness that this was not his work. Such was the issue with which the incident before us was charged; such the portentous prophecy when, under the instigation of their chief priest and rulers, the Jews cried out, "Not this Man, but Barabbas."

(A. Mackennal, D. D.)

One of the most striking works of that true spiritual genius, George Tinworth, represents the release of Barabbas and the condemnation of Christ. Pilate is delineated as the centre of the group; he is standing washing his hands, thus emphasizing the innocence of Jesus, who, at his left, is seen bound and in custody, led away to be scourged and crucified. Barabbas is on Pilate's right; he is stooping down, free and light-hearted, to rejoin the people. Barabbas is styled in an inscription below his figure, "The world's choice." The inscription below Jesus is "The Good Shepherd." The levity of the call for Barabbas and the unerring Divine Judgment, are suggested by a reference to Ecclesiastes 8:12. The general lesson of the composition is one with which historians, moralists, poets have made us familiar —

"Truth for ever on the scaffold, Wrong for ever on the throne —

Yet that scaffold sways the Future, and behind the dim unknown

Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above His own."Tinworth's genius appears in the extraordinary vividness with which he has conceived and expressed the fact that Barabbas was personally popular. While Jesus comes forward, sorrowful and solitary, followed by supercilious smiles or cold despite, those who have known Barabbas crowd around him to congratulate him; the very soldiers who have been his jailers clasp his hands, as if they were sorry to lose a boon companion. Intensity of moral purpose, elevation of spiritual thought, are hindrances to popularity; the absence of these is distinctly favourable to a superficial geniality, which may blind even to the heinousness of crime. Christ could never have been "the world's choice."

(A. Mackennal, D. D.).