A Life for Barabbas

By Stan Escott

Barabbas is referenced in only eleven Bible verses in the New Testament. Then he disappears from the story. "A Life for Barabbas" imagines how he might have lived the rest of his life.

Here was a notorious man, convicted and facing crucifixion, suddenly pardoned by Pilate and released from prison. Stunned and confused by this turn of events, he flees the city and within hours finds himself on Calvary where he encounters the crucified Jesus, and there begins Barabbas' transformation from unrepentant rebel to redeemed Christian leader. 

Part adventure story, part history, the novel is set during the 40 years between the crucifixion of Jesus and the siege of Jerusalem. While the work is fictional, as are some of the characters and their activities, it is vividly drawn with well-researched details of daily life in first century Palestine. The storyline closely follows Biblical events and influences on the evolution of Christianity in the First Century, and, in the process, seeks to clarify some of Jesus' core teachings.

A Life for Barabbas will appeal to fans of The Robe, Ben Hur, Spartacus, The Spear, and The Shack, to name a few. A Life for Barabbas is different in that the entire story is based on researched historic facts, events, settings, and creates a life story for a man mentioned only briefly in the Bible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TouchPoint Faith
• Release date: Oct 30, 2020
• ISBN: 1952816211

Book preview

NIV

Acknowledgments

George Bennard was a Methodist preacher in the early years of the 20th century. For years, he had a melody playing around in his mind, and then, one evening, he sat at his kitchen table and wrote all the stanzas to The Old Rugged Cross, each word falling perfectly into place with that melody. When asked about his authoring one of the most beloved of hymns, his answer was I was merely the instrument God used.

I could echo Bennard’s comment, because so much of this book seemed to flow from my time with God each morning following my devotionals and prayers. Starting with a short 1200-word Lenten essay for my church newsletter, over time inspiration would come, word after word, exciting, new, with fresh ideas, that drove me to research and to write. Loved ones and friends might say I was obsessed, but, in truth, I was following the lead given. Most of the time I was simply a scribe for the Lord. If you find good stuff in these pages that speaks to you, that would be from God.

It didn’t matter how many times I read draft after draft, polished, revised, worked with edits, re-wrote, re-polished, two things always happen: Tears of joy for what was written, and a sense of wonder of how my Lord and Savior used me to tell this story, this parable of redemption. I can’t tell you have many times I muttered, Thank you, Jesus over the two years of writing this. Now, at the end of this particular spiritual, literary odyssey, I have to say it again, Thank you, Jesus.

No book that carries the label, ‘historic’, does so without excellent sources. I am not sure how one could write fiction based on Biblical facts without the magic of the internet. So many other sources added to the texture and authenticity of the story. Scott Korb’s book, Life in Year One; H. Cotton and E. Werner’s book, Josephus’ Roman Audience: Josephus and the Roman Elites; J. D. Crossan’s book, The Birth of Christianity, and Martin Goodman’s book, The Ruling Class of Judea, to name just a few, each added humanity and life to this story.

This odyssey carries the influence of many: My daughter, Beth Escott Newcomer, who pushed and pushed me back to writing, then, became my cheerleader, my critic, my painfully honest reviewer. It was Beth that brought Elizabeth Gilbert’s work into my mind-set. Gilbert, author and lecturer in creative writing, believes that the inspiration for any kind of creativity—art, music, sculpture, literature, etc.—comes from an external source, a muse, a higher power, an inspiration, not our own. I knew that before, but now I believe it!

Ashley Carlson, my editor with Touch Point, whose knowledge of scripture kept me aligned with Biblical truths, and whose thoroughness helped smooth the rough patches. I am indebted to several others who wadded through early drafts, including Sue Kelly, whose comments were important in course corrections. Paul Borg, friend and pastor who shared a wealth of theological insight. Dr. Parks and Paula Adams who opened my eyes to differing religious doctrine, and Drema Drudge, fellow author, who freely gave good advice and counsel.

Now I come to Carol Rogers, the light of my life, my believer, my encourager from the early stages to the finished book. My partner of the heart who never once complained about my taking over her kitchen for my writing. Together, we bless one another with life.

Thank you, Jesus.

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1: The Raid

Chapter 2: Notorious

Chapter 3: Crucify Him!

Chapter 4: Calvary

Chapter 5: The Encounter

Chapter 6: What Happened?

Chapter 7: The Stranger

Chapter 8: He Has Risen

Chapter 9: The Road to Galilee

Chapter 10: Let Him Go!

Chapter 11: The Rabbi

Chapter 12: Seeking Answers

Chapter 13: Mary

Chapter 14: Who Is This Man?

Chapter 15: John and Mary

Chapter 16: John and Barabbas

Chapter 17: A Follower

Chapter 18: Barnabas

Chapter 19: Share the Good News?

Chapter 20: Return to Tiberius

Chapter 21: Communion

Chapter 22: Baptism

Chapter 23: I Can Do All Things

Chapter 24: The Holy Spirit

Chapter 25: Stephen

Chapter 26: Longinus

Chapter 27: The Word

Chapter 28: The Oikos

Chapter 29: Saul

Chapter 30: Seeking Truth

Chapter 31: Damascus

Chapter 32: Paul and Barabbas

Chapter 33: Brothers in Christ

Chapter 34: Escape from Damascus

Chapter 35: Jerusalem

Chapter 36: Gabriel

Chapter 37: Mordecai

Chapter 38: Joshua and Esther

Chapter 39: Zealots

Chapter 40: The Warning

Chapter 41: Silas

Chapter 42: Paul in Jerusalem

Chapter 43: Mission Plans

Chapter 44: Sunago

Chapter 45: Peter, James, and Paul

Chapter 46: Gathering of Fishes

Chapter 47: The Transformation

Chapter 48: Barabbas and Shania

Chapter 49: God’s Story Written

Chapter 50: Joshua

Chapter 51: The Plan

Chapter 52: Mordecai and Eli

Chapter 53: The Exodus

Chapter 54: Machines of Siege

Chapter 55: Wadi Qelt

Chapter 56: Jericho

Chapter 57: Epilogue

Facts

Chapter 1: The Raid

Jerusalem, Judea

Sunday, March 24, 32AD

I

t was well past midnight. In the darkness, a gentle mist was falling; the cobblestones reflected the flickering light from torches affixed to the buildings that lined the street.

On a narrow, dusty side street, there was neither light nor sound as two men moved silently, their backs to the buildings. They knew what they were doing and where they were going. They were on a mission, one they had successfully done many times, obtaining food and other supplies for the families in their community. Their destination: The Roman supply depot, located in a building at the end of the street.

It was the start of Passover, and throughout the week, there had been protests near Herod’s palace, adjacent to The Citadel, on the western edge of Jerusalem. In the eyes of the Romans, the demonstrators, Jews and zealots alike, were nothing but troublemakers.

Because those demonstrations had the full attention of the guards, it was thought unlikely that there would be guards at the supply depot tonight. The two men, moving through the darkness, were confident that breaking into the depot would not be challenged.

Aaron and Barabbas had been friends all their lives. Both were tall and strong with full beards. For tonight, both were barefoot and wore dark hooded tallits, a tunic that reached their ankles. The two looked so much alike that they could have been brothers, but the similarity ended there. Aaron, the calm leader, was smart and cautious with a ready smile. Barabbas was also smart, but, too often, was impulsive, angry, and tended to act before thinking, a trait that had gotten him into trouble many times.

Each had seen the other go through difficult times, and, because of their friendship, they trusted one another with their lives. Barabbas had been there, seven years ago, when Aaron’s son was born and supported him when his wife died of complications from the birth. Aaron had often intervened when Barabbas’ quick temper and occasional moments of violence had gotten him into trouble.

As they silently neared the depot, it happened. Suddenly, without warning, they were confronted by a patrol of torch-bearing guardsmen. Demands were made, an argument erupted, and then a fight. Torches were knocked to the ground, and, in the end, one of the guards was dead, another lay wounded, and the others ran for reinforcements.

Barabbas turned to Aaron, only to discover his friend leaning against a building, wounded and bleeding. Then, as he watched with anguish, Aaron slid to the ground. In desperation to get help for his wounded friend, Barabbas lifted him onto his shoulder and moved as fast as he could in the direction of his home. Shania, his wife, would know what to do.

That was a year ago, yet, in Barabbas’ mind, it could have been yesterday. He arrived home, and Shania, had tried, valiantly, to save their friend, yet the wounds had been too grave. Barabbas continued to blame himself for not protecting Aaron, and each time he thought of that skirmish, it made him both sad and angry. Because of that incident, he sought revenge against the Romans. His anger was also directed to the zealot leadership who had not prepared them for the possibility that guards would be present.

But it was Shania, who, even in her grief, maintained a calmness and took over the family. She was the one who took the steps necessary to adopt the young boy, Joshua, assuring him that he was now their son. She tried desperately to get Barabbas away from the zealots and the violence that they represented. She also wanted him to be a father to their new son. Yet, Barabbas’ need for revenge could not be assuaged.

There had been other demonstrations, disrupting the usual daily activities around the marketplace, The Citadel, even near the Great Temple. Bloodshed was a common occurrence, and, frequently, the leader was Barabbas, in the middle of it, blindly leading with anger.

And now what Shania had feared the most had come to pass. There had been another demonstration, another confrontation, a violent and bloody fight, and Barabbas had been arrested. The Romans had been waiting for him. They took no chances. His reputation as a dangerous and wanted man was well known.

Within hours of his arrest, Herod ordered that there would be an immediate trial. He was charged with inciting a riot, theft, and murder. He was declared guilty on all counts and sentenced to death, death by crucifixion.

Chapter 2: Notorious

Kishle Prison, The Citadel, Jerusalem

March 28-April 2, 33AD

B

arabbas sat in prison, his tunic torn and bloodstained. It was early morning. The cell was dark, dirty, and cold. The air was thick with the acrid smell of prisoners past. He stood and moved about the small space, his chains rattling, the irons cutting deep into his ankles. He was angry and shouted curses against Rome, Herod, the guards, even the zealots.

His thoughts turned to Shania who was alone in their home with their young son, trying to absorb the tragic news and wondering what she would do without him? No good will come from this, for her or the boy, he told himself. Tears came. Why had he not listened to her? She was always the calm, sensible, and wise one while he had been the opposite: an impulsive fool!

In a heartbeat, his remorse turned to fear. Cold, hard, unrelenting fear. Fear of death. Fear of the slow, agonizing death on a cross. Oh, he knew about it. He had been a witness to several crucifixions, Roman-style punishment, cruel and heartless.

Barabbas leaned against the rough stone wall then sat back down on the dirty floor with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Then, from within, came the deep heartrending cry: "God help me!" He sat there for a long time, that single thought on his mind, knowing there would be no way out, his time had come. There would be no help.

He struggled to his feet, again, took deep breaths, and, dragging his chains, shuffled over to the small window high above him. He could just make out the cloudless blue of the sky. He recalled the many times he considered this day, the day of his death, and dismissed it.

He had always boasted that he feared nothing. But he was a fool. This was different, this was real, and he was not ready. It was not time. He was only thirty—how could it end now? He trembled; his mouth was dry, and his heart beat wildly. He had nowhere to turn. In truth, he had no one to blame but himself. Once again, he shouted through his tears and his fears, God help me!

After some time had passed, he had another thought: he was sure that he had been betrayed by those he trusted at the last demonstration. It had been peaceful until a squad of guards arrived, and it all fell apart. Without provocation or warning, they attacked the quiet demonstrators, who defended themselves. They were severely outnumbered, and, after a short skirmish, all had fled. But, as if planned, he alone had been captured. He had been the target.

His anger returned, and he lifted his fist into the air and shook it in the face of cruel fates. Who had betrayed him? Who, indeed?

Yes, over the past year, he had been the one responsible for planning the looting and robbery in the Roman sectors of the city. Some viewed him as a hero, while others thought that his actions were causing more hardships within the Jewish community. Still, his actions were against Rome, the enemy, and, because of that, he was confident that the community would protect him.

Throughout the month leading up to Passover, Rome had imposed higher taxes, along with other restrictions and curfews, and, at the same time, the cruelty, at the hands of the Roman guard, had escalated. The result had been more resistance by the people of Jerusalem. There had been large gatherings of protesters, against the increased taxation by Pontius Pilate, the Prefect of the Roman province of Judea.

Barabbas thought again of the protest he had led. Despite all the precautions to protect him, he was arrested and taken before Pilate, the weasel, who ordered an immediate trial. A farce of a trial. They called him a murderer, but he had only killed one man, in self-defense, long ago. They branded him a thief and an insurrectionist. Maybe he was, but his commitment had been to the survival of his family and his Jewish community. His defense had been rejected, and the magistrate declared him guilty of all charges. The sentence still echoed in his mind: death by crucifixion. Now he awaited his execution that was to be Friday, the day after Passover.

Barabbas sat back down on the dirty floor, his back against the cold, gray stone wall, his head between his knees. He was waiting, with fear and trembling, for the footsteps of his executioners.

He thought, again, about his life, now about to end. What would happen to his beloved wife and his young son. How would they get along? Who would protect them? Again, he cried out in his anger and grief.

How often had Shania pleaded with him to leave this relationship with the zealots? Then, that raid a year ago, where Aaron was killed. Aaron, his best friend. And, again, she had begged him to stop. But he was hardheaded and stubborn. He wanted vengeance.

He looked around the gray and desolate cell, smelled the air, filled with filth. He longed for fresh air, that would never come. This was exactly what Shania feared: that he would be out of their lives, that he would be harmed or, worse, executed. Now, the worst was about to happen. So, he sat, his thoughts on his loved ones. In desperation, he cried out again and beat against the floor with his fists.

A rat slithered under the door, and skittered around the far side of the cell, it’s pointed snout sniffing and the long hairless tail moving side to side. With beady, disinterested eyes, it stared at the prisoner. Then, as if deciding that there was nothing to eat here, it slipped back under the cell door and was gone.

The sight of the rodent made Barabbas even angrier. Again, his thoughts turned to betrayal. He had not anticipated his capture and had trusted those protecting him. With shouts, he again cursed the guards, the judge, the tribunal. He cursed himself and thought how little time he had left. His tears of shame and regret returned.

What has happened to him? At one time, he was a businessman with a successful tanning and leather products shop. It was the rising domination of Rome that had forced him, and Aaron, to act and join in the rebellion.

His reputation had grown. He was viewed as a strong, angry man, qualities that had been put to good use by the zealots. People said he was responsible for starting riots that disrupted the Roman occupation of Jerusalem, which was mostly true.

Oh, yes, he knew who he was and what his reputation had become. People thought he had a dangerous temper, but he believed he was a peaceful man and that his anger, directed at the cruelty of Rome, was justified. He thought about all of that and remembered how Shania had tried to talk him out of his involvement with the zealots. But he knew better. Yeah, he always knew better, he thought ruefully.

Shania. They had been married three years and had been hoping to add to their family soon. They had led quiet, productive lives. His business had been doing well, and she was emerging as a strong, committed teacher in the rabbinical school. Yes, things had been going well.

But then Rome had put pressure on the peaceful families of Jerusalem, raising taxes and harassing citizens who were just going about their business. All that caused his anger to surface, and he struck out against injustice.

Today was already Passover. It had never meant much to him, but now, this Thursday, this Passover, meant the day before his own death. He would not be passed over! How long had he been in prison? Three, four days? It seemed longer.

Barabbas stood and began to pace the cell, feeling the pull of the irons on his ankles. With remorse, he thought he would never be able to undo the harm he had done. His anger and his stubbornness had led him to this sad point in his life.

In anger, he remembered the most recent demonstration where he was captured. A peaceful gathering of citizens attacked by the Romans, for no reason. He recalled again that other raid, a year before, that lead to the death of his closest friend.

All these thoughts went through Barabbas’ mind, as he sat dreading the footsteps of his executioner. Here he was, in irons, a prisoner, hours away from his execution. It was done. His life would soon be over. Again, the tears of deep, grinding regret, streaked his cheeks.

Chapter 3: Crucify Him!

Friday, April 3, 33AD

T

wo days before Shabbat, from the Torah, meaning He rested, the day that God rested from creating the world. On this day, as Barabbas sat in prison, a man, Jesus of Nazareth, was betrayed by Judas Iscariot, in the garden of Gethsemane. He was taken by the Jewish leadership and handed over to the Roman guard. Then, beaten and bloodied, Jesus stood before Pontius Pilate.

Pilate, seeking to resolve an embarrassing political issue, and possibly save the life of Jesus whom he thought was innocent, decided to offer a pardon to the prisoner of the Jews’ choosing. So, he ordered Barabbas be brought before him.

In his cell, Barabbas heard the guards coming. He immediately thought these were his executioners. The cell door opened, and two of the guards entered. They removed the irons from his ankles. Then they grabbed the chain that held his wrists and pulled him roughly out of the cell and up a long flight of stairs leading to the broad balcony, high above the courtyard.

The brightness of the sun briefly blinded Barabbas, then he saw, below him, a large crowd of loud and angry men. His appearance on the balcony, caused a roar from the crowd, calling his name. He did not know what was going on, and fear gripped him.

The guards pushed him to where he now stood beside another man. He looked around at the crowd, then at the man beside him. That man had been badly beaten. He had blood on his face and arms, and a ring of thorns had been driven into his head. Why was that man here, why was he here? What was happening to them?

From his throne, Pilate watched the crowd. When both prisoners stood before him, he rose and addressed the crowd below: "Which of these two men, should I release; Jesus, who has done nothing wrong, or Barabbas, a convicted criminal? Which one should receive a pardon? The crowd, encouraged by the Jewish leadership and the Pharisees, chanted ‘give us Barabbas’.

Pilate asked again, Which of these two men should I release, and the crowd answered, even louder, give us Barabbas!

What, then for Jesus of Nazareth? The crowd began to chant, crucify him!

Pilate again said, But Jesus has done nothing wrong.

Still, the crowd yelled even more loudly, crucify him!

Among those standing at the edge of the crowd was Lazarus and his sister Martha. Both were crying, tears streaming down their faces. They were filled with disbelief and grief at the treatment of their friend, Jesus. A friend who, just a few days before, in Bethany, had raised Lazarus from the dead.

Pilate, true to his word, followed the shouts of the crowd and pardoned Barabbas. Then ordered his release from prison.

With reluctance, Pilate ordered Jesus turned over to the executioners. The crucifixion would be carried out that day. The crowd roared their approval.

Barabbas stood there, bewildered and confused, not understanding what had happened. The guards roughly led him down the stairs to the prison gates. There they removed the irons from his wrists, and then, before they released him, they told him in terse terms, That crowd chose Jesus, instead of you. He will die, and you’ll walk away. Remember that and know this: we will be watching for you. You’re still a troublemaker, and you’ll be back, mark my words. The next time will not end so well for you.

The locking beam was lifted, the huge gates were opened, and the guards pushed him out into the street. Even as the gates slammed shut behind him, he did not fully comprehend what had just happened.

Chapter 4: Calvary

Noon, Friday, April 3, 33AD

B

arabbas stood there, listening as the prison gates closed and