Barabbas Preferred To Jesus

Barabbas Preferred To Jesus

DELIVERED ON SUNDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 16, 1864,

BY C. H. SPURGEON, AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

"Then cried they all again, saying, Not this man, but Barabbas. Now
Barabbas was a robber."

John 18:40.

THE custom of delivering a prisoner upon the day of the Passover was
intended, no doubt, as an act of grace on the part of the Roman
authorities towards the Jews. And by the Jews it may have been accepted
as a significant compliment to their Passover. Since on that day they,
themselves, were delivered out of the land of Egypt, they may have
thought it to be most fitting that some imprisoned person should obtain
his liberty. There was no warrant, however, in Scripture for this–it
was never commanded by God–and it must have had a very injurious
effect upon public justice. The ruling authority would discharge a
criminal, quite irrespective of his crimes or of his
repentance–letting him loose upon soci-ety–simply and only because a
certain day must be celebrated in a peculiar manner.

Since some one prisoner must be delivered on the paschal day, Pilate
thinks that he has now an opportunity of allowing the Savior to escape
without at all compromising his character with the authorities of Rome.
He asks the people which of the two they will prefer, a notorious thief
then in custody, or the Savior. It is probable that Barabbas had been
up, till that moment, obnoxious to the crowd. And yet, notwithstanding
his former unpopularity, the multitude, instigated by the priests,
forget all his faults and prefer him to the Savior!

Who Barabbas was, we cannot exactly tell. His name, as you, in a moment
will understand, even if you have not the slightest acquaintance with
Hebrew, signifies "his father's son." "Bar" signifying "son," as when
Peter is called Simon Barjona, son of Jonah. The other part of his
name, "Abbas," signifying "father"–"Abba" being the word which we use
in our filial aspirations, "Abba Father." Barabbas, then, is the "son
of his father," and some mystics think that there is an imputation
here, that he was particularly and specially a son of Satan. Others
conjecture that it was an endearing name and was given him because he
was his father's darling, an indulged child. His father's boy, as we
say.

And these writers add that indulged children often turn out to be
imitators of Barabbas and are the most likely persons to become
injurious to their country, griefs to their parents and curses to all
about them. If it is so, taken in connection with the case of Absalom
and especially of Eli's sons, it is a warning to parents that they err
not in excessive indulgence of their children.

Barabbas appears to have committed at least three crimes–he was
imprisoned for murder, for sedition and for felony–a sorry combination
of offenses, certainly. We may well pity the sire of such a son. This
wretch is brought out and set in competition with Christ! The multitude
are appealed to. Pilate thinks that from the sense of shame they really
cannot possibly prefer Barabbas. But they are so bloodthirsty against
the Savior and are so moved by the priests, that with one
consent–there does not appear to have been a single objecting voice,
nor one hand held up to the contrary–with a marvelous unanimity of
vice, they cry, "Not this man, but Barabbas!"

Though they must have known, since he was a notable well-known
offender, that Barabbas was a murderer, a felon and a traitor, they
still preferred him. This fact is very significant. There is more
teaching in it than at first sight we might imagine. Have we not here,
first of all, in this act of the deliverance of the sinner and the
binding of the innocent, a sort of type of that great work which is
accomplished by the death of our Savior? You and I may fairly take our
stand by the side of Barabbas. We have robbed God of His Glory! We have
been seditious traitors against the government of Heaven–if he who
hates his brother is a murderer, we also have been guilty of that sin.

Here we stand before the Judgment Seat. The Prince of Life is bound for
us and we are allowed to go free. The Lord delivers us and acquits us,
while the Savior, without spot or blemish, or shadow of a fault, is led
forth to Crucifixion. Two birds were taken in the rite of the cleansing
of a leper. The one bird was killed and its blood was poured into a
basin. The other bird was dipped in this blood and then, with its wings
all crimson, it was set free to fly into the open field.

The bird slain well pictures the Savior and every soul that has, by
faith, been dipped in His blood flies upward towards Heaven singing
sweetly in joyous liberty–owing its life and its liberty entirely to
Him who was slain!

It comes to this–Barabbas must die or Christ must die–you, the sinner
must perish, or Christ Immanuel, the Immaculate, must die. He dies that
we may be delivered! Oh, have we all a participation in such a
deliverance today? And though we have been robbers, traitors, and
murderers, can we rejoice that Christ has delivered us from the curse
of the Law, having been made a curse for us?

The transaction has yet another voice. This episode in the Savior's
history shows that in the judgment of the people, Jesus Christ was a
greater offender than Barabbas. And, for once, I may venture to say
that vox populi, (the voice of the people), which in itself was a most
infamous injustice–if it is read in the light of the imputation of our
sins to Christ– was vox Dei, (the voice of God)! Christ, as He stood
covered with His people's sins, had more sin laid upon Him than that
which rested upon Barabbas. In Him was no sin–He was altogether
incapable of becoming a sinner–holy, harmless and undefiled is Christ
Jesus! But He takes the whole load of His people's guilt upon Himself
by imputation and as Jehovah looks upon Him, He sees more guilt lying
upon the Savior than even upon this atrocious sinner, Barabbas.

Barabbas goes free–innocent–in comparison with the tremendous weight
which rests upon the Savior. Think, Beloved, then, how low your Lord
and Master stooped to be thus numbered with the transgressors. Watts
has put it strongly, but, I think, none too strongly–

"His honor and His breath Were taken both away, Joined with the wicked
in His death, And made as vile as they."

He was so, in the estimation of the people and before the bar of
justice–for the sins of the whole company of the faithful were made to
meet upon Him. "The Lord has laid upon Him the iniquity of us all."
What that iniquity must have been no heart can conceive, much less can
any tongue tell! Measure it by the griefs He bore and then, if you can
guess what these were, you can form some idea of what must have been
the guilt which sunk Him lower before the bar ofjustice than even
Barabbas himself.

Oh, what condescension is here! The Just One dies for the unjust! He
bears the sin of many and makes intercession for the transgressors.
Yet, again, there seems to me to be a third lesson before I come to
that which I want to enforce from the text. Our Savior knew that His
disciples would in all ages be hated by the world far more than outward
sinners. Full often the world has been more willing to put up with
murderers, thieves, and drunkards, than with Christians. And it has
fallen to the lot of some of the best and most holy of men to be so
slandered and abused that their names have been cast out as evil,
scarcely worthy to be written in the same list with criminals.

Now Christ has sanctified these sufferings of His people from the
slander of their enemies by bearing just such sufferings Himself, so
that, my Brethren, if you or I should find ourselves charged with
crimes which we abhor–if our heart should be ready to burst under the
accumulation of slanderous venom–let us lift up our head and feel that
in all this we have a Comrade who has true fellowship with us, even the
Lord Jesus Christ who was rejected when Barabbas was selected! Expect
no better treatment than your Master! Remember that the disciple is not
above his Lord. If they have called the Master of the house Beelzebub,
much more will they call them of His household. And if they prefer the
murderer to Christ, the day may not be distant when they will prefer
even a murderer to you.

These things seem to me to lie upon the surface–I now come to our more
immediate subject. First, we shall consider the sin as it stands in
evangelical history. Secondly, we shall observe that this is the sin of
the whole world. Thirdly, that this sin we ourselves were guilty of
before conversion. And fourthly, that this is, we fear, the sin of very
many persons who are here this morning–we shall talk with them and
expostulate, praying that the Spirit of God may change their hearts and
lead them to accept the Savior.

I. A few minutes may be profitably spent in CONSIDERING, THEN, THE SIN
AS WE FIND IT IN THIS HISTORY. They preferred Barabbas to Christ. The
sin will be more clearly seen if we remember that the Savior had done
no ill. No law, either of God or man, had He broken. He might truly
have used the words of Samuel–"Behold, here I am: witness against me
before the Lord and before His anointed: whose ox have I taken? Or
whose ass have I taken? Or whom have I defrauded? Whom have I
oppressed? Or of whose hand have I received any bribe to blind my eyes?
And I will restore it to you."

Out of that whole assembled crowd there was not one who would have had
the presumption to accuse the Savior of having done him damage. So far
from this they could but acknowledge that He had only conferred great
temporal blessings upon them! O ravening multitude, has He not fed you
when you were hungry? Did He not multiply the loaves and fishes for
you? Did He not heal your lepers with His touch? Did He not cast out
devils from your sons and daughters? Raise up you paralytics? Give
sight to your blind and open the ears of your deaf? For which of these
good works do you conspire to kill Him?

Among that assembled multitude there were, doubtless, some who owed to
Him priceless gifts and yet, though all of them His debtors if they had
known it, they clamor against Him as though He were the worst trouble
of their lives–a pest and a pestilence to the place where He dwelt.
Was it His teaching that they complained of? Where did His teaching
offend against morality? Where against the best interests of man? If
you observe the teaching of Christ there was never any like it, even
judged of by how far it would subserve human welfare. Here was the sum
and substance of His doctrine, "You shall love the Lord your God with
all your heart and your neighbor as yourself."

His precepts were of the mildest form. Did He bid them draw the sword
and expel the Roman, or ride on in a ruthless career of carnage and
rapine? Did He stimulate them to let loose their unbridled passions?
Did He tell them to seek, first of all, their own advantage and not to
care for their neighbor's needs? No! Every righteous State must own Him
to be its best pillar, and the commonwealth of manhood must acknowledge
Him to be its conservator. And yet, for all this, there they are,
hounded on by their priests, seeking His blood and crying, "Let Him be
crucified! Let Him be crucified!"

His whole intent, evidently, was their good. What did He preach for? No
selfish motive could have been urged. Foxes had holes and the birds of
the air had nests, but He had not where to lay His head. The charity of
a few of His disciples kept Him from absolute starvation! Cold
mountains and the midnight air witnessed the fervor of His lonely
prayers for the multitudes who now are hating Him. He lived for
others–they could see this. They could not have observed Him during
the three years of His ministry without saying, "Never lived there such
an unselfish soul as this." They must have known, the most of them–and
the rest might have known, had they enquired ever so little–that He
had no object whatever in being here on earth except that of seeking
the good of men.

For which of these things do they clamor that He may be crucified? For
which of His good works, for which of His generous words, for which of
His holy deeds will they fasten His hands to the wood and His feet to
the tree? With unreasonable hatred, with senseless cruelty they only
answer to the question of Pilate–"Why, what evil has He done?"– with,
"Let Him be crucified! Let Him be crucified!"

The true reason of their hate, no doubt, lay in the natural hatred of
all men to perfect goodness. Man feels that the presence of goodness is
a silent witness against his own sin and therefore he longs to get rid
of it. To be too holy in the judgment of men is a great crime, for it
rebukes their sin. If the holy man has not the power of words, his very
life is one loud witness-bearing for God against the sins of His
creatures. This inconvenient protesting led the wicked to desire the
death of the Holy and Just One.

Besides, the priests were at their backs. It is a sad and lamentable
thing, but it is often the case that the people are better than their
religious teachers. At the present moment the laity of the Church of
England, as a whole, have honest consciences and would have their
Prayer Book revised tomorrow if their voices could be heard. But their
clerics care far too little about the Truth of God and are not very
particular how they swear, or with whom they associate. So long as
their Church can be kept together, Father Ignatius shall be heard in
their assemblies, although Christ's call to the Church to purify
herself, awakens only resentment and ill-will.

No matter that the throats of certain clergymen were exercised in
hissing for a moment at the apparition of the bold Anglican monk–he is
one of themselves, a brother of their own order–and their Church is
responsible for all that he does. Let them come out and separate
themselves and then we shall know that they abhor this modern popery.
But so long as they sit in the same assembly and are members of the
same Church, the sin is theirs, and we shall not cease to denounce both
it and them!

If Evangelical clergymen remain in communion with Papists, now that
they come out in their full colors, I will cease to say that they
violate their consciences, but I shall doubt whether they have any
consciences at all! Brethren, it is still the case that the people are
better than their teachers. This people would not have crucified Christ
had not the clergy of the day, the priests, the endowed ministers,
cried out, "Let Him be crucified!" He was the Dissenter, the heretic,
schis- matic, the troubler in Israel. He it was who cried aloud against
the faults of their establishment! He it was who could not be put
down–the ignorant man from Galilee who would continue to clamor
against them! The mischief-maker and therefore, "Let Him be crucified!
Let Him be crucified!" Anything is good enough for the man who talks
about reform and advocates changes in established rules.

No doubt bribery also was used in this case. Had not Rabbi Simon paid
the multitude? Was there not a hope of some feast, after the Passover
was over, to those who would use their throats against the Savior?
Beside, there was the multitude going that way. And so if any had
compassion they held their tongue. Often they say that, "Discretion is
the better part of valor," and truly there must be many valorous men,
for they have much of valor's better part, discretion. If they did not
join in the shout, yet at least they would not disturb the others and
so there was but one cry, "Away with Him! Away with Him! It is not fit
that He should live."

What concentrated scorn there is in this fortieth verse! It is not,
"this Jesus." They would not foul their mouths with His name, but this
fellow–"this devil," if you will. To Barabbas they give the respect of
mentioning his name! But "this"–whom they hate so much–they will not
even stoop to mention. We have looked, then, at this great sin as it
stands in history.

II. But now let us look, in the second place, AT THIS INCIDENT AS
SETTING FORTH THE SIN WHICH HAS

BEEN THE GUILT OF THE WORLD IN ALL AGES, AND WHICH IS THE WORLD'S GUILT
NOW. When the Apostles went forth to preach the Gospel and the Truth of
God had spread through many countries, there were severe edicts passed
by the Roman Emperors. Against whom were these edicts framed? Against
the foul offenders of that day?

It is well known that the whole Roman Empire was infested with vices
such as the cheek of modesty would blush to hear named. The first
chapter of the Epistle to the Romans is a most graphic picture of the
state of society throughout the entire Roman dominions. When severe
laws were framed, why were they not proclaimed against these atrocious
vices? It is scarcely fit that men should go unpunished who are guilty
of crimes such as the Apostle Paul has mentioned, but I find no edicts
against these things–I find that they were borne with and scarcely
mentioned with censure.

But burning, dragging at the heels of wild horses, the sword,
imprisonment, tortures of every kind were used against whom, do you
think? Against the innocent, humble followers of Christ, who, so far
from defending themselves, were willing to suffer all these things and
presented themselves like sheep at the shambles, willing to endure the
butcher's knife! The cry of the world, under the persecutions of
Imperial Rome, was, "Not Christ, but Sodomites and murderers and
thieves–we will bear with any of these–but not with Christ! Away with
His followers from the earth!"

Then the world changed its tactics. It became nominally Christian and
Antichrist came forth in all its blasphemous glory. The Pope of Rome
put on the triple crown and called himself the Vicar of Christ. Then
came in the abomination of the worship of saints, angels, images and
pictures. Then came the mass and I know not what, of detestable error.
And what did the world say? "Popery forever!" Down went every knee and
every head bowed before the sovereign representative of Peter at Rome!
The Church of Rome was equal in sin to Barabbas.

No! I do but compliment Barabbas when I mention him in the same breath
with many of the popes, for their character was foul and black through
and through, till even those who superstitiously looked upon them as
infallible in their office could not defend their personal characters.
The world chose the harlot of Rome and she who was drunk with the wine
of her abominations had every eye to gaze upon her with admiration! And
Christ's Gospel was forgotten–buried in a few old books and almost
extinguished in darkness.

Since that day the world has changed its tactics yet again. In many
parts of the earth Protestantism is openly acknowledged and the Gospel
is preached, but what then? Then comes in Satan and another Barabbas,
the Barabbas of mere ceremonialism and mere attendance at a place of
worship is set up. "Yes, we are orthodox, so orthodox, so sound! Yes,
we are religious, strictly religious! We attend our meeting house, or
go to our Church. We are never absent. We attend every form." But you
have no vital godliness–you have not been born again–you have not
passed from death unto life! "That is all right! This will do! So long
as we are as good as our neighbors and keep the outward rite, the
inward does not matter."

This which is a foul robbery of God's Glory, this which murders men's
souls, is the Barabbas of the present age! An outward name to live is
set up and is received by those who are dead and many of you now
present are quite easy and content though you have never felt the
quickening Spirit of God–though you have never been washed in the
atoning blood–yet you are satisfied because you take a seat in some
place of worship! You give your guinea, your donation to an hospital,
or your subscription to a good object, forgetting and not caring to
remember that all the making clean of the outside of the cup and the
platter will never avail, unless the inward nature is renewed by the
Spirit of the living God!

This is the great Barabbas of the present age and men prefer it before
the Savior! That this is true–that the world really loves sin better
than Christ–I think I could prove clearly enough by one simple fact.
You have observed sometimes Christian men are inconsistent, have you
not? The inconsistency was nothing very great if you had judged them
according to ordinary rules of conduct. But you are well aware that a
worldly man might commit any sin he likes without much censure. But if
the Christian man commits ever so little, then hands are held up and
the whole world cries, "Shame!"

I do NOT want to have that altered! But I do want just to say
this–"There is Mr. So-and-So, who is known to live a fast, wicked,
evil life. Well, I do not see that he is universally avoided and
reprobated, but on the contrary he is tolerated by most and admired by
some. But suppose a Christian man, a well-known professor, to have
committed some fault which, compared with this, were not worth
mentioning–then what is done? "Oh, publish it! Publish it! Have you
heard what Mr. So-and-So did? Have you heard of this hypocrite's
transgression?" Well, what was it? You look at it. It is wrong, it is
very wrong–but compared with what you say about it, it is nothing at
all.

The world, therefore shows by the difference between the way in which
it judges the professedly religious man and that with which it judges
its own, that it really can tolerate the most abandoned, but cannot
tolerate the Christian. Of course, the Christian never will be
altogether free from imperfections. The world's enmity is not against
the Christian's imperfections evidently, because they will tolerate
greater imperfections in others! The objection must therefore be
against the man–against the profession which he has taken up and the
course which he desires to follow! Watch carefully, Beloved, that you
give them no opportunity! When you see that the slightest mistake is
laid hold of and exaggerated, in this you see a clear evidence that the
world prefers Barabbas to the followers of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Now the world will change its various modes of dealing, but it will
never love the Church better than it does now. We do not expect to see
the world lifted up to become more and more absorbed into the Church,
The union of the world with the Church was never the object of our
religion. The object of Christ is to gather to Himself a people from
among men. It is not the lifting up of all, but the calling out of
some–the making of men to differ, the manifestation of His special and
discriminating Grace–the gathering together of a people whom He has
formed for Himself.

In this process morality is promoted and men are civilized and
improved. But this is only indirectly God's object and not His
immediate end. The immediate end of the Gospel is the salvation of the
people whom He has ordained unto eternal life and who, therefore, in
due season are led to believe in Him. The world, to the end of the
chapter, will be as much at enmity with true Believers as ever it was.
"You are not of the world, therefore the world hates you." This will be
as true when Christ shall come as at the present moment. Let us expect
it! And when we meet with scorn and persecution, let us not be
surprised as though some strange thing had happened to us.

III. I come in the third place, and O for some assistance from on high,
to observe that THE SIN OF PREFERRING

BARABBAS TO CHRIST WAS THE SIN OF EVERY ONE OF US BEFORE OUR
CONVERSION. Will you turn over the leaves of your diary, now, dear
Friends, or fly upon the wings of memory to the hole of the pit where
you were lifted? Did you not, O you who live close to Christ, did you
not once despise Him? What company did you like best? Was it not that
of the frivolous, if not that of the profane?

When you sat with God's people, their talk was very tedious. If they
spoke of Divine realities and of experimental subjects, you did not
understand them, you felt them to be troublesome. I can look back upon
some whom I know now to be most venerable Believers, whom I thought to
be a gross nuisance when I heard them talk of the things of God! What
were our thoughts about? When we had time for thinking, what were our
favorite themes? Not much did we meditate upon eternity. Not much upon
Him who came to deliver us from the misery of Hell's torments. Brothers
and Sisters, His great love with which He loved us was never laid to
heart by us as it should have been.

No, if we read the story of the Crucifixion, it had no more effect upon
our mind than a common tale. We knew not the beauties of Christ! We
thought of any trifle sooner than of Him. And what were our pleasures?
When we had what we called a day's enjoyment, where did we seek it? At
the foot of the Cross? In the service of the Savior? In communion with
Him? Far from it! The further we could remove from godly associations
the better pleased we were. Some of us have to confess with shame that
we were never more in our element than when we were without a
conscience–when conscience ceased to accuse us and we could plunge
into sin with riot.

What was our reading then? Any book sooner than the Bible–and if there
had lain in our way anything that would have exalted Christ and
extolled Him in our understandings–we would have put the book away as
much too dry to please us. Any three-volume heap of nonsense, any light
literature–no, perhaps, even worse–would have delighted our eyes and
our heart. But thoughts of His eternal delight towards us–thoughts of
His matchless passion and His Glory now in Heaven never came across our
minds, nor would we endure those who would have led us to such
meditations!

What were our aspirations then? We were looking after business, aiming
at growing rich, famous for learning or admired for ability. SELF was
what we lived for! If we had some regard for others and some desire to
benefit our race, self was at the bottom of it all. We did not live for
God–we could not honestly say, as we woke in the morning, "I hope to
live for God today." At night we could not look back upon the day and
say, "We have this day served God." He was not in our thoughts! Where
did we spend our best praise? Did we praise Christ? No! We praised
cleverness and when it was in association with sin, we praised it none
the less.

We admired those who could most fully minister to our own fleshly
delights and felt the greatest love to those who did us the worst
injury. Is not this our confession as we review the past? Have I not
read the very history of your life? I know I have of my own. Alas, for
those dark days in which our besotted soul went after any evil, but
would not follow after Christ! It would have been the same today with
us if almighty Grace had not made the difference. We may as well expect
the river to cease to run to the sea as expect the natural man to turn
from the current of his sins! As well might we expect fire to become
water, or water to become fire as for the unrenewed heart ever to love
Christ!

It was mighty Grace which made us seek the Savior. And as we look back
upon our past lives, it must be with mingled feelings of gratitude for
the change and of sorrow that we should have been so grossly foolish as
to have chosen Barabbas and have said of the Savior, "Let Him be
crucified!"

IV. And now I shall come to the closing part of the sermon which is
THAT THERE ARE DOUBTLESS MANY

HERE WHO THIS DAY PREFER BARABBAS TO OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST. Let me
first state your case, dear

Friends. I would describe it honestly, but at the same time so describe
it that you will see your sin in it. And while I am doing so, my object
will be to reason with you, and pray the Lord may change your will.

There are many here, I fear, who prefer sin to Christ. I may say,
without making a guess I know that there are those here who would long
ago have been followers of Christ, but that they preferred drunkenness.
It is not often, it is not every day, it is not even every week–but
there are occasions when they feel as if they must go into company–and
as a sure result they return home intoxicated. They are ashamed of
themselves–they have expressed as much as that. They have even gone so
far as to pray to God for Divine Grace to overcome their habit. But
after being the subject of convictions for years, they have up to now
made no advance.

It did seem once as if they had conquered it. For a long time there was
an abstinence from the fault, but they have gone back to their folly.
They have preferred the bestial degrading vice–did I say bestial? I
insult the beasts!–for beasts are not guilty of such a vice as this!
The drunk prefers this degrading vice to Christ Jesus. There stands
drunkenness, I see it mirrored before me with all its folly, its
witlessness, its greed and filth. But the man chooses all that, and
though he has known by head knowledge something concerning the beauty
and excellency of Christ, he virtually says of Jesus, "Not this man,
but drunkenness!"

Then there are other cases where a favorite lust reigns supreme in
their hearts. The men know the evil of the sin and they have good cause
to know it. They know also something of the sweetness of religion, for
they are never happier than when they come up with God's people. And
they go home sometimes from a solemn sermon, especially if it touches
their vice, and they feel, "God has spoken to my soul today and I am
brought to a standstill." But for all that, the temptation comes again
and they fall as they have fallen before. I am afraid there are some of
you whom no arguments will ever move. You have become so set on this
mischief that it will be your eternal ruin.

But oh, think! How will this look when you are in Hell–"I preferred
that foul Barabbas of lust to the beauties and perfections of the
Savior who came into the world to seek and to save that which was
lost!" And yet this is the case, not of some, but of a great multitude
who listen to the Gospel and yet prefer sin to its saving power. There
may be some here, too, of another class, who prefer gain. It has come
to this–if they become truly the Lord's people, they cannot do in
trade what they now think their trade requires them to do. If they
become really and genuinely Believers, they must, of course, become
honest! But their trade would not pay, they say, if it were conducted
upon honest principles! Or it is such a trade and there are some few
such, as ought not to be conducted at all, much less by Christians.

Here comes the turning point–shall I take the gold, or shall I take
Christ? True, it is cankered gold, and gold on which a curse must come.
It is the fool's pence–it may be it is gain that is extorted from the
miseries of the poor– money that would not ever stand the light
because it is not fairly come by. Perhaps it is money that will burn
its way right through your souls when you get upon your deathbeds. But
yet men who love the world, say, "No, not Christ, give me a full purse
and away with Christ."

Others, less base or less honest, cry, "We know His excellence! We wish
we could have Him, but we cannot have Him on terms which involve the
renunciation of our dearly-beloved gain." "Not this Man, but Barabbas."
Others say, "I would gladly be a Christian, but then I should lose so
many of my acquaintances and friends. For the matter of what it comes
to, my friends are not much good to me–they are such friends as are
fondest when I have most money to spend with them. They are friends who
praise me most when I am often at the ale-house–when I am seen
plunging deepest into their vices. I know they do me mischief, but,"
says the man, "I could not venture to oppose them. One of them has such
a glib tongue and he can make such telling jokes! I could not bear to
have him down upon me. And there is another, I have heard him give
Christians such stinging names and point at their faults in such a
sarcastic manner–I could not run the gauntlet of his tongue! And
therefore, though I gladly would be a Christian, yet I will not."

That is the way you prefer to be a serf, a slave, to the tongue of the
scorner sooner than be a free man and take up the Cross and follow
Christ! You prefer, I say, not merely by way of allegory, but as matter
offact–you prefer Barabbas to the Lord Jesus Christ! I might thus
multiply instances but the same principle runs through them all. If
anything whatever keeps you back from giving your heart to the Lord
Jesus Christ, you are guilty of setting up an opposition candidate to
Christ in your soul and you are choosing, "not this Man, but Barabbas."

Let me occupy a few minutes with pleading Christ's cause with you. Why
is it that you reject Christ? Are you not conscious of the many good
things which you receive from Him? You would have been dead if it had
not been for Him! No, worse than that, you would have been in Hell! God
has sharpened the great axe. Justice, like a stern woodman, stood with
the axe uplifted, ready to cut you down as a cumberer of the ground. A
hand was seen stopping the arm of the Avenger and a voice was heard
saying, "Let it alone, till I dig about it and feed it."

Who was it that appeared just then in your moment of extremity? It was
no other than that Christ, of whom you think so little, that you prefer
drunkenness or vice to Him! You are this day in the House of God
listening to a discourse which I hope is sent from Him. You might have
been in Hell–think one moment of that–shut out from hope, enduring in
body and soul unutterable pangs. That you are not there should make you
love and bless Him who has said, "Deliver him from going down into the
pit." Why will you prefer your own gain and self-indulgence to that
blessed One to whom you owe so much?

Common gratitude should make you deny yourself something for Him who
denied Himself so much that He might bless you. Do I hear you say that
you cannot follow Christ because His precepts are too severe? In what
respect are they too severe? If you, yourself, were set to judge them,
what is the point with which you would find fault? They deny you your
sins? They deny you your miseries! They do not permit you, in fact, to
ruin yourself. There is no precept of Christ which is not for your good
and there is nothing which He forbids you which He does not forbid on
the principle that it would harm you to indulge in it.

But suppose Christ's precepts to be ever so stern–is it not better
that you should put up with them than be ruined? The soldier submits
implicitly to the captain's command because he knows that without
discipline there can be no victory and the whole army may be cut in
pieces if there is a want of order. When the sailor has risked his life
to penetrate through the thick ice of the north, we find him consenting
to all the orders and regulations of authority and bearing all the
hardships of the adventure because he is prompted by the desire of
assisting in a great discovery, or stimulated by a large reward.

And surely the little self-denials which Christ calls us to will be
abundantly recompensed by the reward He offers! And when the soul and
its eternal interests are at stake, we may well put up with these
temporary inconveniences if we may inherit eternal life! I think I hear
you say that you would be a Christian, but there is no happiness in it.
I would not tell you a falsehood on this point. I would speak the truth
if it were so, but I do solemnly declare that there is more joy in the
Christian life than there is in any other form of life! If I had to die
like a dog and there were no hereafter, I would prefer to be a
Christian! You shall appeal to the very poorest among us–to those who
are most sick and most despised and they will tell you the same.

There is not an old country woman shivering in her old ragged red cloak
over a handful of fire, full of rheumatism, with an empty cupboard and
an aged body who would change with the very highest and greatest of you
if she had to give up her religion! No, she would tell you that her
Redeemer was a greater comfort to her than all the luxuries which could
be heaped upon the table of Dives. You make a mistake when you dream
that my Master does not make His disciples blessed. They are a blessed
people who put their trust in Christ!

Still, I think I hear you say, "Yes, this is all very well, but still I
prefer present pleasure." Do you not, in this, talk like a child? No!
Like a fool! For what is present pleasure? How long does that word
"present" last? If you could have ten thousand years of merriment I
might agree with you in a measure, but even there I should have but
short patience with you, for what would be ten thousand years of sin's
merriment compared with millions upon millions of years of sin's
penalty? Why, at the longest, your life will be but very short. Are you
not conscious that time flies more hurriedly every day? As you grow
older, do you not seem as if you had lived a shorter time instead of
longer? Perhaps if you could live to be as old as Jacob, you would say,
"Few and evil have my days been, for they appear fewer as they grow
more numerous."

You know that this life is but a span and is soon over. Look at the
graveyards! See how they are crowded with green mounds. Remember your
own companions–how one by one they have passed away. They were as firm
and strong as you, but they have gone like a shadow that declines. Is
it worthwhile to have this little space of pleasure and then to lie
down in eternal pain? I pray you answer this question! Is it worth
while to choose Barabbas for the sake of the temporary gain he may give
you and give up Christ and so renounce the eternal treasures ofjoy and
happiness which are at His right hand forevermore?

I wish that I could put these questions before you as they ought to be
put. It needs the earnest seraphic voice of Whitfield, or the pleading
tongue of Richard Baxter to plead with you! But yet I think I talk to
rational men. And if it is a matter of arithmetic, it shall need no
words of mine. I will not ask you to take your life at the longest that
you expect it to be–at eighty, say–crowd it full of all the pleasures
you can imagine. Suppose yourself in good health! Dream yourself to be
without business cares, with all that heart can wish! Go and sit upon
the throne of Solomon if you will, and yet what will you have to say
when it is all over? Looking back upon it, can you make more of it than
Solomon did, when he said, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. All is
vanity and vexation of spirit"?

When you have cast up that sum, may I ask you to calculate how much you
will have gained, if, in order to possess this vanity, you have
renounced eternal happiness and have incurred everlasting woe? Do you
believe the Bible? You say, "Yes." Well, then, it must be so. Many men
profess to be Believers in Scripture and yet, when you come to the
point as to whether they believe in eternal woe and eternal joy, there
is a kind of something inside which whispers, "That is in the Book–but
still it is not real, it is not true to us." Make it true to yourselves
and when you have done it and have clearly proved that you must be in
happiness or woe–and that you must here either have Barabbas for your
master, or have Christ for your Lord–then, I say, like sane men, judge
which is the better choice and may God's mighty Grace give you
spiritual sanity to make the right choice!

But this I know, you will never make the right choice unless that
mighty Spirit who alone leads us to choose the right and reject the
wrong, shall come upon you and lead you to fly to a Savior's wounds! I
need not, I think, prolong the service now, but I hope you will prolong
it at your own houses by thinking of the matter. And may I put the
question personally to all of you separate–whose are you? On whose
side are you? There are no neuters. There are no betweenites–you
either serve Christ or Belial! You are either with the Lord or with His
enemies! Who is on the Lord's side this day? Who? Who is for Christ and
for His Cross? For His blood and for His Throne?

Who, on the other hand, are His foes? As many as are not for Christ are
numbered with His enemies. Be not so numbered any longer, for the
Gospel comes to you with an inviting voice–"Believe in the Lord Jesus
Christ and you shall be saved." God help you to believe and cast
yourself upon Him now. And if you trust Him, you are saved now and you
shall be saved forever! Amen.