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What’s so Good About Good Friday?

By Guy K. Henry

www.guyhenry.com

This wasn’t my first time that I’d been sent to prison, but I was certain that it was my last. Don’t misunderstand me I have not reformed. No, this was to be my last stay in prison because at the end of the week I was to be nailed to a cross until I was dead.

I will not lie to you. I was scared. From my prison cell I could see the hill where every day men were nail to crosses. Their cries for mercy would haunt me late into the night.

I had resolved not to beg for mercy. I knew that for all my life I had worked hard for my cross. Since I was a child I’d been stealing constantly. I had earned each nail that the soldiers would soon pound into me. The spikes reminded me of every person I’d beat up in the back streets of the city. I knew that my last breaths would be painful, yet they were more than I deserved because I’ve killed more than a few people.

That cross belonged to me. If anyone deserved to leave this earth hanging from one, it was I. Despite the pain, I wasn’t going to plead for my life. I deserved this punishment. I understood that anything less would be unjust.

I had time to think in my cell. I’d observe the hillside strewn with crosses and wish that my life had been different. Time after time I’d chosen to take an old man’s last bag of coins instead of working for them. Over and over I’d gloat over a pile of traveler’s belongings I’d taken while the rightful owners moaned in the bushes from the beatings I’d given them.

Now that I know of the pain and torture of the cross, I’d wish I’d lived differently. I had lived my life for the moment. I only thought of the present. I wished I’d considered the horrible death I was earning. There was no changing the past. My future seemed bleakly settled too. All that was left was to sit and wait for the guard’s arrival.

It was a Thursday evening when it hit me hard. Up to then I had only thought about how I’d deal with my death. I never imagined that others would take interest, even pleasure in my brutal execution.

I was looking out my window when I saw two Roman soldiers dragging a wooden cross. They stopped outside my window, and leaned the cross against it.

One spoke, “Barabbas,” he was snickering, “look, this cross has your name on it!” As he said that they flipped the cross over. I stood open mouthed and silent as I read my own name burned into the wood. The guards turned and left, cackling over their handiwork.

The moon replaced the sun. It cast an eerie light upon my cross. At first I was scared of it, and could barely look at it. After a while I reached my hands between the bars and touched the cross’ rough wood. The first physical contact with my cross sent a cold jolt through my spine.

I started to talk to my cross as my fingers ran over the letters of my name. “Go away!” I yelled at it. The cross stood patiently.

I picked at the cross’ rough splinters and said, “Cross, I know you are the payment for the rough life I’ve led.” It silently agreed.

Through the night I cried at the cross. I swore at my cross. I mocked my cross. Mostly I shook in fear at my cross.

All the while my cross was unmoved. It was not swayed by my arguments. It had no sympathy for me. The rising sun signaled that the time was near. I imagined my cross speaking to me, “I will do my job Barabbas, I will do it well.”

That morning I sensed something different. The usually still air was buzzing. Many more people were awake than usual.

I heard the sounds of a large gathering of people. At first I couldn’t understand what they were saying. After a while, a chant rose up from the crowd. “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!”

I hadn’t heard anything like that before. I assumed that they were discussing my fate.

The crowd quieted down, and one man’s voice rose above it. He was shouting, though I could not understand his words.

I heard a new chant, “Bar-ab-bas! Bar-ab-bas! Bar-ab-bas!”

I cried as I thought the crowd was expressing its hatred for me. Then the cry of “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” sounded again. I just knew that the time was near when I’d do much more than run my fingers over my cross.

My blood seemed to stop in my veins when I heard the sound of approaching soldiers. They hurriedly gathered around my cross. The captain said, “One, Two, Three, Lift!”

“Hmphh.” My cross was lifted into the air. I was confused. I had heard that the condemned carried their own cross. The squad swiftly carried my cross away.

This waiting was almost too much to bear. I jumped at every sound. My entire nervous system tingled. I said to myself, “Go ahead and crucify me! I can’t stand this waiting any longer!” Then I realized what I’d said, and was glad that no one was around to hear it.

I don’t know how much time had passed before I heard the mob coming closer. I figured that they were coming to drag me out of my cell and take me to my cross. People barreled past my window. “Any time now,” I sadly thought.

Then, I saw something that I could never have anticipated. What I saw was beyond my imagination. I watched in utter shock as one particular man passed by my window. He’d been beaten horribly, but there was more. On his shoulders he was dragging a heavy cross. I blinked and rubbed my eyes as I spied a blackened spot on the cross. It was a name, burnt into the wood. I cried as I read that name, “B-A-R-A-B-B-A-S”.

This man was carrying my cross! It had my name on it. More than that, I had memorized each knot in the wood. They were there too!

I never spoke to the man, nor he to me. Yet, when our eyes met I was washed away with a wave of kindness. No, it was more than kindness. His eyes spoke of His great love for me. Too quickly he moved away from my window.

Soon the lock of my prison door rattled. I instantly thought that someone had discovered the mix-up.

Barabbas could not have known that the mob he heard was demanding the execution of Jesus. In an effort to quell the crowd, and his conscience, Pontius Pilate offered to release the innocent Jesus or the criminal Barabbas.

Matthew 27 records the crowd’s response:

(16) And they had then a notable prisoner, called Barabbas. (17) Therefore when they were gathered together, Pilate said unto them, Whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ?

(20) But the chief priests and elders persuaded the multitude that they should ask Barabbas, and destroy Jesus. (21) The governor answered and said unto them, Whether of the twain will ye that I release unto you? They said, Barabbas.

Barabbas deserved death on a cross, and Jesus did not. Yet Jesus took the punishment, and through it Barabbas was forgiven. At the very least, he was forgiven by the Roman government and allowed to live his life as a free person. If Barabbas ever;

-         Had FAITH in Jesus that He could forgive his sins, and

-         If he ever TRUSTED Jesus to forgive his sins, and

-         If he ever ASKED Jesus to forgive his sins

Then Barabbas’ life of evil deeds and sin was cleared away, and he is now in heaven celebrating his savior. We are never told if Barabbas accepted Jesus’ total forgiveness.

The great news is that it wasn’t just Barabbas’ sins that went to the cross. Jesus didn’t go to the cross to pay only Barabbas’ penalty. The great news is that Jesus went to the cross to provide a way to erase EVERYONE’s sin.

You don’t think a little sin is a problem? Check out Romans 6:23, “For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

That’s right, from the very first time we disobeyed God, we earned our own eternal death. Yikes! That is serious.

Some say, “But I’m a pretty good person.”

Check out Romans 3:23, “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” Sorry, even if you are really really good, it’s still not enough to escape the eternal death described in Romans 6:23. We’ve all earned it! We’ve all come short.

The Bible tells is that if we believe, trust and ask Jesus to take away our sins, he will! That’s a promise. Notice, that faith is more than just head knowledge. I can believe that Abraham Lincoln was instrumental in freeing the slaves. In the same way I can believe that Jesus died on the cross to forgive my sins. More is required. We must trust Jesus, and no one else, no thing else, to actually forgive our sins and make us right with God.

Check out Acts 16:32, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved”! Also the familiar John 3:16, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

Lastly we must ask Jesus to do that for us. This is personal. No one can ask for you! Romans 10:9 says, “That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.”

I’ll admit, I hadn’t thought that a cold-blooded murderer like Barabbas and I had much in common. One thing we share is that Jesus has jumped in and taken our death penalty upon Himself.

Have you gotten to this point in life and not ever believed that Jesus died for your sin? Have you arrived at today never having trusted Jesus to take your sin with Him to the cross? Has something kept you from asking Jesus, “PLEASE, FORGIVE ME! MAKE ME RIGHT WITH GOD! TAKE ME TO HEAVEN WITH YOU!”?

If so, won’t you please put this story down and do just that? God is just waiting to pour the love of His Son, Jesus, upon you.

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