Our King and Substitute | Mt. 27:15-26

Here’s the message I gave this past Sunday, from Matthew 27 on Barrabas, a picture of substitutionary atonement. You can catch the audio also here. You can also subscribe to our podcast here.

In his insightful article “The Strange Persistence of Guilt,” Wilfred M. McClay argues that we’re all being crushed by a weight of guilt today, and we no longer have the resources to push our way out. Secular philosophers like Nietzsche back in the day had this mindset. If we can just get rid of God, we’ll make all this guilt go away. Freud came along and disagreed. People are just gonna feel guilty. We just need to empty it of moral significance. It’s a normal psychological experience.

McClay argues that neither tactic has worked. And guilty feelings have only increased. In fact, he speaks of what he calls the “infinite extensibility of guilt” we carry today. The more we know, the more connected we become, the greater our abilities as humans expand, the more things we have to feel guilty about. Our sense of guilt moves way past our immediate orbit to encompass the globe. Social media exposes us to all the pains and ills of the world. Climate change. World hunger. Child labor. Endangered species. Dictators and wars. The list goes on and on. There’s so much suffering. So many things that are wrong. And I’m not doing anything about it. As the author puts it, “Power entails responsibility, and responsibility leads to guilt.”

Now there are a couple of ways he says we commonly try to deal with that. The first, he calls “stolen suffering.” This is where we do everything we can to identify with, and even strive to become, a victim. Now McClay isn’t arguing there isn’t injustice, that people aren’t victimized. He’s just saying we can play the victim to relieve this tension. We’re easing our consciences without relieving any suffering.

The second tactic he says we take is this: scapegoating. We shift the guilt away from us. And we put the blame on others. You see this in cancel culture. Where we try to humiliate or shame people publicly. Where we try to silence and stifle their speech.

This moves the attention - and guilt - away from us - and on to other people. They’re to blame. They’re the guilty ones. Not us. Or at least we’re not that bad in comparison.

But friends, how well does this really work? Don’t we look around at the world, and intuitively know something’s wrong? And deep down, don’t we also know that we’re part of the problem? There’s this low-grade guilt we carry - just below the surface - that flares up and bursts out - causing ourselves pain, and certainly hurting those around us. But what can we do about it? How can we admit that guilt - and truly address it? I think the answer is found right here. Not kidding at all. In this passage we just read.

More Than An Example

Last week, we looked at the verses just before. And there we saw Jesus basically admit He’s the King. Pilate asks him, in verse 11, “Are you the King of the Jews?” And I loved the way Aaron translated Christ’s response. “Your words, bro.” But Pilate, the governor, goes further, after Jesus won’t speak up for Himself. He says, in verse 13, “Do you not hear how many things they testify against you?” And our Lord stays silent. As verse 14 puts it, “…He gave him no answer, not even to a single charge, so that the governor was greatly amazed.”

Jesus doesn’t fight back. He doesn’t lash out. He keeps quiet. Something we also see in our passage today. And Peter says that leaves us “an example, so that (we) might follow in His steps.” In this world, where we’re tempted to fight for our rights, where we’re called to stand up for ourselves, we have this example:

1Peter 2:23 When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly.

But that’s so much where it all tends to stop. Jesus is a good teacher. He’s a loving leader. What would Jesus do? Go be like Him. But underneath that call, truly grounding that truth, is something so much greater. He’s much more than an example, friends.

Pilate, the People, And Us

Let’s jump into the passage. Verse 15 tells us that Pilate was prepared to keep what had become a tradition. This Roman governor - who was appointed to keep Jerusalem in line - had the authority under law to pardon prisoners. And apparently it had become common to free one at the Passover. The big Jewish festival. To curry some favor with the people. Jesus, of course, is already in custody. But another man being held, verse 16 tells us, is this man “Barrabas.” Who the passage says is “notorious.” I hear he used to roll with Tupac back in the day. Nah.

But we learn in the other gospels how he had earned that reputation. He’d been part of an insurrection. And in it, had committed murder. Barrabas was likely part of a nationalistic militia, that engaged in guerrilla warfare, that wanted to end Roman occupation, and do it by any means necessary.

Now Jesus is quite popular, for his teaching, for his ministry. And Pilate’s growing uncomfortable with putting him to death. So he gives the crowd an option. Of a clearly worse man. This “notorious” “Barrabas.” He says to the crowd, “Whom do you want me to release for you: Barrabas or Jesus who is called Christ?”

But this isn’t the governor’s shining moment as a leader. Why hear the recommendation of the occupying power? Instead of going with the guy trying to free them from that power? Barrabas seems to be the man they had already pre-selected. And there are these unholy hype men there pumping up that crowd.

But Pilate clearly tries to steer them in the opposite direction. Because the thought of killing Christ clearly has the governor troubled. He seems to know Jesus is innocent of these charges. He’s also quite aware of the motives of those leaders. As verse 18 says, He knows “that it was out of envy that they had delivered Him up.” Plus, we learn in verse 19 that his wife had received a dream. And it startles her so much, that she interrupts him with a note. “Have nothing to do with that righteous man, for I have suffered much because of him today in a dream.” All these warning lights are going off. Everything is shouting at this man to stop. But he keeps sliding. He doesn’t listen.

Let’s pause there. See the danger of ignoring the conscience. If we get a sense that something is wrong. Of a need to stop. To go back. To steer clear. We need to do it. And do it then. Otherwise, our consciences will be seared, they’ll get calloused, we’ll grow numb. And there’ll be no turning back.

Pilate ignores that sinking feeling. He knows something’s not right. But he pushes right on through. He knows that riot will only get him in trouble. He’s already on thin ice with Rome. So he chooses his career over this man they call Christ. And we have to watch out for that tendency in our lives, too. I can’t say it better than how Russell Moore puts it:

“Pilate saw the stakes as being about what he was gaining or losing—in that moment, or in the sweep of his life. He defined his mission in terms of ambition and security rather than in terms of conscience. And so his conscience adjusted to his ambition, not the other way around. The same can happen to you—no matter if you work in a grocery store produce department or in an accounting firm or in a screenwriting guild or as a missionary.

The pull will always be to quiet the conscience because you can't afford what you fear it may ask of you. In that direction lies disaster. The problem is not that you will find yourself moving in ways you never wanted to move - but, rather, that you will not notice at all how you are moving. You will not even see that you are chasing the imprimatur of whatever crowd to which you want to belong, to whatever goal you want to achieve, until only after it is too late do you see that you no longer recognize yourself. That clamor for ambition and belonging will lead not to an absence of conscience but to a misdirected conscience, one that feels shame about what is not shameful, and feels nothing about what is.” (Russell Moore)

Now that plan doesn’t work - to offer a much worse man. He asks them two different times. Surely, they’ll wise up. But they don’t. So he switches up his tactics. He tries to steer Christ away from the cross. From the worst of all sentences. Those guilty of such rebellion could be thrown to wild beasts. Or they could be banished, just sent out into the wild. Pilate asks them, verse 22, “Then what shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” But the crowd doesn’t bite. They cry out, “Let him be crucified!”

It’s then that Pilate asks in verse 23. “What evil has he done?” But this doesn’t move the needle at all. The crowd just cries out all the more. But notice: even after releasing Barrabas, verse 26 says he has Jesus “scourged.” Tied to a post, beaten with a whip, made of leather interwoven with metal and bone. It was brutal. Tearing through skin and muscle. Maybe the crowd would see that and then they’d relent. Or maybe, as was common, He wouldn’t make it through. But He does. So Pilate hands Christ over, sentencing Him to death. What a weak, cowardly leader.

But the crowd here is to blame, every bit as much as him. Just a few days earlier they are waving their branches. They’re yelling out with gladness, “Hosannah to the Son of David!” They are proclaiming him as King. But now they are crying, “Crucify Him!” Jesus isn’t the King they actually wanted. He’s not what they’d signed up for at all.

The leaders protect their power. And Christ’s a threat to that. So they continue to stoke up the crowd. And the people want someone more like Barrabas. Who’ll take out the Romans. And give them back their land. They demand his release. And Christ’s death. They get worked up. Rioting is about to break out. So Pilate relents. He bows to the will of an unruly crowd.

See the danger of following the mob. We can so easily get sucked in. Merchants of rage try to get us riled up. They benefit - they profit - the madder we get. Leaders use our anger to maintain their power. Before we know it, we can look up and find ourselves smashing things, hurting others, holding up signs for things we never could have imagined. Algorithims feed us reels that fuel rage. Then we click on those videos. We get riled up more. And we need the Spirit’s help - and the help of our community - to scream, “No more!” It doesn’t really matter what the crowd says to do. What is true, and good, and beautiful? What does Scripture say? What looks like Christ’s kingdom? If we’re the people of God, here in this fallen world, we’ll never be on the side of the majority. If we’re doing what’s popular, that poses a problem. Whether we’re leaning left or pulling right, we’ll find ourselves moving away from the costly path of Jesus.

Soon Pilate realizes he’s not getting anywhere. They’re about to riot. He gives them what they want. So in verse 24, he does this symbolic ritual, where he tries to absolve himself from guilt. He washes his hands, right there in front of the crowd. And he basically says, “This is on you.” “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” “No longer my problem. It’s all yours.” How, then do the people respond? They scream out, “If he really is innocent as you say, then may ‘His blood be on us and on our children!’” “Bring it on!”, they exclaim. See here the danger of minimizing our problem.

Now we know Pilate’s bath doesn’t accomplish squat. It won’t begin to absolve him from guilt. It certainly can’t cleanse his conscience. And the crowd’s words are more true than they know. The blood is on their shoulders. And on ours, as well. And in handing Jesus over to be crucified, they are fulfilling God’s plan. Of dealing with that guilt - once and for all.

The Heart of the Gospel

I want to take you to the heart of the gospel, the good news of Jesus. But before we get there, we have to take on the bad. And that bad news is this: we have rejected our King, and we bear guilt as a result.

We’re like these crowds, these rulers, who vote to condemn Christ. We’re like this Pilate who turns his back on Jesus. We want a King who’ll give us what we want. Or we’ll go find another one who will. We’ve all turned from God’s rule. This is what sin is at its core. Not trusting in Him. Choosing other kings. Exalting ourselves.

We might not envision us saying, “Crucify Him!” But we often want Jesus out of the way. We want to rule our lives ourselves. Interestingly, Barrabas means “son of the father.” Like this crowd, we pick him over the Son of the true Father. Choose the one who’ll give us power and glory. Not one who offers suffering and dishonor. Most scholars think Barrabas was also called Jesus. And it comes through in some manuscripts of Scripture. Like that mob back then, we can choose Jesus Barrabas instead of Jesus the Christ. A god we think will bring prosperity. That will help us get revenge. This is all of us friends. We turn from His reign. To become our own gods. But it’s a pipe dream. That’ll blow up in our faces.

This started back in the garden. We didn’t want God over us. This is what Israel said. We want a king - like everyone else. You’re not enough. We’ll take their idols, too. They’ll give us what we want. That’s every bit as much you and me here.

And, because of that, we all bear guilt as a result. Whether or not we feel it or acknowledge it, we’re guilty. As the song puts it, “It was our sin that held Him there.” Peter, in Acts 2, preaches and speaks of “this Jesus, whom you crucified!” And to a crowd - most of which weren’t even there. Our sin is what sent Him to the cross. And God is just. And He won’t leave rebellion unpunished. We are these crowds. And these wicked leaders. We are Pilate. Now that’s the bad news.

But here’s the word that’s good. He gives Himself as a substitute, and we get treated as innocent. You might remember from Exodus the story of the Passover. The Lord’s about to strike down Egypt. So they can finally run out free. And God tells them through Moses to each slay a lamb - and paint that animal’s blood on the door frames of their homes. That lamb is their substitute, so none of them have to die.

Here, in this Passover celebration, the Lamb of God is slain. His blood is poured out. And for us, His people, who believe. Christ is hung on the cross - between two thieves. But really it’s that same word used elsewhere to describe Barrabas. They’re insurrectionists. Domestic terrorists. It’s almost certain it was Barrabas that was to hang there - between two of his boys. But Jesus takes His place. On that cross. And He takes ours.

This is what you call penal substitutionary atonement. Penal. Jesus takes our penalty. Substitutionary. He takes it in our place. Atonement. He makes things right between us and God. He brings us to Him.

This is the reality if we’re in Christ. If we trust Him. Christ is our substitute. We are Barrabas, too.

I don’t think it’s ever been put better than by John Stott:

“The concept of substitution may be said, then, to lie at the heart of both sin and salvation. For the essence of sin is man substituting himself for God, while the essence of salvation is God substituting himself for man. Man asserts himself against God and puts himself where only God deserves to be; God sacrifices himself for man and puts himself where only man deserves to be. Man claims prerogatives which belong to God alone; God accepts penalties which belong to man alone.” (John Stott)

And that means, like Barabbas, we get to go free. We’re treated as innocent. Not guilty’s our charge. That scrubbing Pilate was working on. It’s ours. And it’s free. It goes deep. We don’t have to carry that weight on our shoulders. We can be washed and cleansed. From the inside-out. Forgiven in Him. By His death. As Dan Doriani put it, the irony is amazing. His blood would flow upon their shoulders - and on those of their descendants. But for salvation!

Yes, the Lord is holy. He’s completely just. But He’s also full of mercy. Abounding in love. And in the cross we see all of that meet. His justice is maintained. But we still get forgiven. I love the song “In My Place” by Coldplay. It’s hard not to hear the lyrics and hear Chris Martin, the lead singer, wrestling with guilt he’s carrying, expressing a longing to be forgiven. Is the band reaching out for what we see right here? I hope so. But we sure can!

But there was something else going on that day. The religious leaders aren’t just trying to make Him go away. They’re trying to discredit Him, too. Because their law clearly said, in Deuteronomy 21:13, that the man hanged on a tree was cursed by God. And they wanted to make that really clear. But Jesus the true King had other plans that day.

Last Saturday night, coach Drink sent freshman Robby Meyer out on the field to kick a 40 yard field goal that would seal a hard-fought victory over the South Carolina Gamecocks. Anxiety was high there in Faurot. With lots of biting of nails. Our first string kicker had been lost for the season. And Robby thus far, had, you could say, struggled. And I’m sure many were thinking, “Oh no. The north endzone. Here we go again.” That’s because almost 12 years ago another kick clanked off the left upright - against that same rival - and we lost that overtime game. But that was just one of many things that had gone wrong - on that end of the field.

The day in 1990 when Colorado got five downs. And didn’t even cross the goal line then. I saw that from the sideline. You can see me on the replay. Or that time in 1997 when a Nebraska player kicked the ball. And it was caught by his teammate - IN THAT NORTH ENDZONE - for the win. That’s illegal, by the way. Many have speculated. That had to have been built on some kind of burial ground or something. It’s been called the curse of the north end zone. Where we saw one bad thing happen after another. How could that legend be buried? Well, apparently, the administration thought, “Just tear it all down and build it up again.” And thus, we see all the shiny new construction.

You see Jesus knew that to get rid of that curse - that came upon us, right at the start,  and had spoiled everything that God had made - He had to go right to the source - head right into the flames - and take out that curse Himself. He had to go down with the thing. To blow it up from its core. As Paul explains it in Galatians chapter 3, verse 13: “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree.” He took on that curse, so we wouldn’t have to take it ourselves.

And because of that, we get the promise of the next verse. “…so that in Christ Jesus the blessing of Abraham might come to the Gentiles, so that we might receive the promised Spirit through faith.” We who are the guilty, get declared innocent. We who carry this curse, in Him, find blessing.

And like Stott says - that gets to the heart of the gospel. But as we looked at just a few weeks back, the gospel also has a hope. It has a direction. And it’s the kingdom of Jesus that will one day come on earth. When He makes all things right - and all things new. This King who was rejected will be received by all. When He comes on the clouds. That trumpet will sound. He’ll sit His throne. And justice and peace will fully and finally reign. You see, on that day, these leaders conspired to put Jesus down. But they were really enthroning Him. As they lifted Him up on that cross. He was going to draw the nations to Himself. And when He comes back. To finish the job. Oooh, boy.     

Penal Substitution and Our Guilt

So let’s get back to that original question. What do we do with this guilt? Now with these crowds - just because you don’t really feel guilty, it doesn't mean you’re not. And yes, sometimes you can feel guilty when you shouldn’t. They’re we’re talking about something subjective - about our feelings of guilt.   

In her book Purity is Possible, author Helen Thorne talks about how so many of us deal with guilt. We tend to be hippos or frogs. What do hippos do? They lay down in it. They wallow in their guilt. They sink down in the mud. They struggle to get up. What do frogs do? They just jump around. Away from the guilty feelings. Anything to not deal with it. Hippos. Frogs. Which are you?

We don’t have to be either, brothers and sisters. We don’t have to dwell on, or drown in, the guilt. But we don’t have to dismiss it or dodge it either. We can deal with it. Hit it head on. Find relief. And from where does that come? In the death of our King. Again, there’s this objective reality. We’ve rejected our King. And because of that we’re guilty. But He substituted Himself for us. He paid for our sins. We give them to Him by faith. He takes them upon Himself. And He is punished in our place.

And we know from the rest of Scripture that we also receive Christ’s life. His perfect, sinless record, if we’re His, if we believe. We put that on, like a white wedding dress. And the Father sees us in Christ. And He’s pleased with what He sees. The innocent one was punished so that the guilty could go free. As 2 Corinthians 5:21 puts it: “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”

Martin Luther once called this the “wonderful exchange.” He put it like this:

“Lord Jesus, you are my righteousness, just as I am your sin. You have taken upon yourself what is mine and have given to me what is yours. You have taken upon yourself what you were not and have given to me what I was not.” (Martin Luther)

Now that was the best trade deal every made. Better than three draft picks to go grab Mahomes. Greater than the Louisiana Purchase. Or buying Apple stock back in 1980. Because that exchange takes that guilt off our shoulders. It clears our consciences, so we can finally get some rest. We have rejected our King. But He’s substituted Himself for us. And that changes everything. The Lord wants us to feel that, to walk in that.

Maybe you’re here carrying lots of guilt. For looking at shameful websites all night. For engaging in sexual immorality. When God’s word clearly says sex is good, but it’s for the covenant of marriage - between a man and a woman.

Perhaps your conscience is really heavy today. Maybe you’ve oppressed the poor. Ignored them on the street. Maybe favored the rich. Or hurt them in your business. Perhaps you’ve hurt someone you love. You’ve been dishonest to a friend. You’re screamed at your kids. You’ve cheated on a test. You spoke poorly of your neighbor. You’re harboring hatred against a co-worker.

Don’t let your conscience get seared by continuing to give in. Don’t just go with the flow and do what everyone else does. This King demands your allegiance. But He also died in your place. And as Romans 8:1 puts it, there is “now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

Hear these great words from Timothy Lane:

“You may feel deep shame for something you have done, or something done to you. The guilt and sense of unworthiness has rendered you almost dead or thrown you into a sinking spiral, falling further and further away from the joy of knowing and serving God. If that’s you, then right now, as you read, is the time to remember God’s saving mercies; to look at your past sins and failures and see that they do not define you. Yes, the consequences may never go away, and you may continue to struggle with them, but they do not and can never speak words about you or over you that are louder than the voice of God; and he declares that you are forgiven and cleansed and loved in Christ. If you are a Christian, then whatever else has happened, the most important event 'in your past’ is the cross.” (Tim Lane)

Look at His cross, Barrabas. You’re him. And I am, too. But He’s hanging up there instead of you. Or He was. So let’s bow before Him, church. And then live for our God. First, of all, because He’s King. And deserves our obedience. But also, as we’ve seen, He’s our Savior. He’s paid with His life. He has washed us clean. How can we not walk free? As the author of Hebrews puts it, “…the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, (will) purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God.” (Heb. 9:14) Those guilty feelings are meant to drive us to God. What our consciences are for! Where we can experience - and be transformed by His grace!

We don’t have to look in the mirror and hate what we see. Unless we say our opinion matters more than God’s. And we don’t have to look out our windows and bark. There’s no need to throw our guilt over at others. We can forgive. We can love.

Really, forgiveness is just canceling a debt. And He’s forgiven ours. How can we not forgive theirs? We are Barrabas. To strut and to sneer as we walk away from death. It makes no sense. Jesus paid for our sins. Through His death.

And He’s also given us His life, if our trust is in Him. We have nothing to prove. We have no one to impress. We don’t have to measure up. We have His approval. There’s no need to be a bully, to push others around us down. The comparison game is over. The deep insecurity that drives all the anger we see today - it’s unnecessary. It’s finished. Put to death forever on that cross. We can now walk in newness of life.

Not long ago, Science Magazine cited a University of Michigan research study that showed a connection between washing your hands and feeling better about your decisions. The researcher, Spike Lee, found that if you scrub those fingers after a difficult choice, you typically feel way better about moving on. But skip the sink, and you’re way more likely to worry and keep revisiting that decision.

Apparently our minds make some connection between physical and moral purity. Now maybe washing our hands will make us feel a bit better. Just like those other tactics we think will work. But they don’t ever get to the heart of the problem. And they’ll never lead to true and lasting peace. Look with me at the cross. At our King. Our substitute, friends.

Cursing for Blessing

If you didn’t know, our name, Karis, means grace. Grace is God’s favor, that we don’t deserve. It’s love, that He gives, that He earned - not us. All our works have earned is death. Our attempts for approval make things worse.

But, as 1 Peter 2, verse 24 puts it: “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds you have been healed.” He’s not just our example. He’s our Savior! Come to Him! Put your trust in Him!

Instead of being cursed, for our sin, what we truly deserved - He bore that guilt. He took that shame. And we get blessing instead. And that’s beautiful, Karis. Let us receive our King who gave Himself for us. Let’s pray.