In the darkness of the dungeon sits a man hard-beaten by life…alone with his thoughts…
One too many dead. Yeah, I killed one too many. Now…soon, I’m next.
And what am I dying for? Looking back, it was a foolish rebellion. It didn’t get us anywhere. My brothers are still oppressed. And no one will remember us…no one will remember our cause. Surely no one will ever remember me…executed by the mighty Romans. Caesar wins again.
Is anyone surprised?
Oh, if I could live this life over. If I could have another chance. If I had never met the rebels as a foolish teenager. What my life could have been.
Would’ve. Could’ve. Should’ve.
I wonder how long I’ve got. It can’t be long now; I hear the bloodthirsty crowds shouting outside. And crucifixion awaits. Cruel, agonizing crucifixion. I’ve seen men writhing on the cross before. Torture is too weak a word. Now it’s my turn. And I deserve all the pain I will feel.
Are you there? Stupid of me to try to speak to you if you are. But. Are you? If you are, well, I will see you soon. And I’ve heard the Jews say you are the merciful one. If so, how far does your mercy extend? Not to me…surely.
But if. If your mercy could extend to an ungodly one like me, if it could…oh, if it could, would you extend mercy to my soul? Would you? Would you?
Footsteps. They’re coming. This is it now. Steel yourself for the agony, man…
“Barabbas, on your feet…you’re being released….no, no joke. I know, I know, none of us can believe it either. But in the end it came down to you or the Nazarene carpenter. I guess you could say that his loss…is your gain.”
Monday, May 4: Mark 16