Today I would like to tell you the story of a terrorist. His story is only briefly mentioned in the Bible, and I will try to retell it from today's perspective. There is nothing to tell about his childhood and youth. It can be assumed that he met radicals relatively early on, who then shaped the rest of his life. In any case, he soon belonged to the Zealots, a kind of nationalists who had conspired to drive the enemy occupying power, the Romans, out of the country. He had an unbridled hatred of these foreigners and of all Jewish politicians and religious leaders who ate from the same pot as the Romans. In order to finance his resistance struggle, he did not shy away from theft and robbery and occasionally managed to incite the Jews to revolt, which were usually bloodily put down by the Romans.
Thus his name became known in Israel, notorious and secretly revered by some. As his life hung by a thread - he knew that it was only a matter of time before he would be caught and executed - his life and those of his fellow men were not worth much to him. He did not shy away from hostage-taking and murder when it seemed expedient. His life had left a trail of violence and hatred in its wake. Then came day X - whether he was betrayed or surprised in action is not known - in any case, shortly after his arrest he found himself in a dark, stinking prison cell. He was soon put on trial, there was not much to deny, the matter was clear and it was not possible to gain any advantages as a key witness at the time. His execution was a done deal, the Romans made short work of "terrorists". And to teach the many foreign Jews who were in Jerusalem at the time of the Passover a lesson, his execution was scheduled for Good Friday: Crucifixion! It is quite possible that Barabbas played it cool on the outside, especially when the Romans were watching. But at night he was probably overcome by horror, an eerie fear when he thought of his imminent agonizing death. The strain of imprisonment tugged at his nerves and the hours passed inexorably. Thoughts chased through his head, wandered back into the past, into childhood, reflected on events, became agonizing and bitter. Questions, doubts and self-reproach may have arisen: "If only I could start life all over again!" "Damned be the day I was born! Or could you at least undo the day when the course of my life was set wrong!" Was it too late to repent? Was everything lost? There was nothing and no one he could have used to work off his prison fever.
So he saved all his aggression for the few encounters he had with the hardened Roman soldiers. And then came the horrible last night. Perhaps he had shouted at the jailers when they asked him for a last meal. He had probably told them to eat the food alone and choke on it. Although he might have liked to eat his favorite dish one more time ... Barabbas could have screamed out of anger, out of self-pity, out of despair. How short life was! How pointless! How futile the attempt to turn off memories of the past and get a grip on the chaos in his head! How tempting the thought of suicide! What remained when morning dawned and the hour of execution approached? Apathy, total indifference, emptiness, despair, rebellion? A sealed fate, a completed life - over and done with? Then - suddenly - the morning silence is interrupted by a polyphonic cry in the distance. "Barabbas!" he heard clearly and then the cry: "Crucify him, crucify him!" Was this the thanks of the fatherland? Had the hated yoke of the Romans been accepted by the Jews after all? Bitterness welled up in him as he thought of how he had laid down his life for the liberation of Israel. Anxiety spread - tension was in the air - were his comrades even calling for his death? In prison, things had come to life. Unrest spread - tension was in the air - were his comrades even calling for his death? The typical rattling of prison keys and the hideous echoing footsteps of the locksmiths - clack, clack, clack ...! - brought him back to the bitter reality of his cell. The footsteps came closer and he knew what the
