Democratic Damnation Text: Luke 23:13-25
Introduction: The Will of the People
We live in an age that worships at the altar of democracy. The prevailing assumption, the unquestioned dogma of our time, is that the will of the people is the highest good. "The voice of the people is the voice of God," they say. This is a lie from the pit of Hell, and our text this morning is God's definitive refutation of it. Here in the courtyard of the Roman governor, we see what happens when the people are given a choice. We see the ultimate expression of democratic fervor. And what does the voice of the people cry out for? It cries out for the blood of the innocent Son of God.
This scene is not a quaint historical anecdote. It is a mirror. In it, we see the utter bankruptcy of human justice, both religious and secular. We see the spinelessness of political leaders who value their careers more than the truth. And we see the dark, twisted heart of fallen man, which will always, when given the choice, prefer a murderer to the Messiah. The proceedings before Pilate are a perfect demonstration of what happens when man attempts to be the measure of all things. When man is the judge, God is the one who ends up in the dock. And the verdict is always the same.
We must understand that this is not just a story about the Jews, or a story about the Romans. This is a story about us. We are the crowd. We are the ones who, in our natural state, scream for Barabbas. This passage forces us to confront the failure of all man-made systems and the desperate condition of our own hearts. But in the midst of this judicial travesty, this democratic damnation, we also see the secret, sovereign hand of God, turning the most wicked act in human history into the very mechanism of our salvation.
The Text
And Pilate summoned the chief priests and the rulers and the people, and said to them, “You brought this man to me as one who incites the people to rebellion, and behold, having examined Him before you, I have found in this man no guilt of what you are accusing Him. No, nor has Herod, for he sent Him back to us; and behold, nothing deserving death has been done by Him. Therefore I will punish Him and release Him.” [Now he was obliged to release to them at the feast one prisoner.] But they cried out all together, saying, “Away with this man, and release for us Barabbas!” (He had been thrown into prison for an insurrection made in the city and for murder.) But again Pilate addressed them, wanting to release Jesus, but they kept on calling out, saying, “Crucify, crucify Him!” And he said to them a third time, “Why, what evil has this man done? I have found in Him no guilt worthy of death; therefore I will punish Him and release Him.” But they were insistent, with loud voices asking that He be crucified. And their voices were prevailing. And Pilate pronounced sentence that their demand be granted. And he released the man they were asking for who had been thrown into prison for insurrection and murder, but he delivered Jesus to their will.
(Luke 23:13-25 LSB)
The Coward's Compromise (vv. 13-16)
We begin with Pilate's attempt to de-escalate the situation.
"And Pilate summoned the chief priests and the rulers and the people, and said to them, 'You brought this man to me as one who incites the people to rebellion, and behold, having examined Him before you, I have found in this man no guilt of what you are accusing Him. No, nor has Herod, for he sent Him back to us; and behold, nothing deserving death has been done by Him. Therefore I will punish Him and release Him.'" (Luke 23:13-16)
Pilate, the Roman governor, the embodiment of secular authority and justice, publicly declares Jesus innocent. This is not a hesitant or ambiguous statement. He says, "I have found in this man no guilt." He has examined the evidence, he has heard the accusations, and the verdict is in. Not guilty. To bolster his case, he even brings in the second opinion of Herod Antipas, the Jewish tetrarch. Two separate jurisdictions, the Roman and the Herodian, have investigated the matter, and both have concluded that Jesus has done "nothing deserving death."
By any standard of law or justice, the case should be closed. The accused is innocent. He should be released immediately with an apology. But that is not what Pilate does. Look at his next sentence. It is one of the most grotesque statements in all of Scripture: "Therefore I will punish Him and release Him." Therefore? On what basis? Because He is innocent, I will have him flogged. This is the logic of a politician, not a judge. It is the reasoning of a man who is trying to appease a mob, not uphold the law. He knows what is right, but he is unwilling to do it if it costs him something.
This is the nature of all compromise with evil. It is an attempt to find a middle ground between righteousness and wickedness, and there is no such place. To punish an innocent man is a monstrous injustice. Pilate thinks he can offer the crowd a little bit of blood to satisfy them, to give them a partial victory so that he can maintain the peace and keep his job. But evil is never satisfied with a partial victory. When you offer a concession to a lynch mob, they do not thank you for your moderation. They smell blood in the water, and they smell weakness, and they press their advantage.
The People's Choice (vv. 17-19)
The situation escalates as a local custom is introduced, providing the crowd with a stark choice.
"[Now he was obliged to release to them at the feast one prisoner.] But they cried out all together, saying, 'Away with this man, and release for us Barabbas!' (He had been thrown into prison for an insurrection made in the city and for murder.)" (Luke 23:17-19)
Pilate thinks he has found a clever way out. He will offer them a choice between Jesus, whom he has just declared innocent, and a notorious criminal. Surely, he thinks, they will choose the peaceful teacher over the violent revolutionary. But he has fundamentally misjudged the character of a fallen human heart inflamed by envy and hatred.
The response is immediate and unanimous. "They cried out all together." This is the voice of the people. And what does it say? "Away with this man, and release for us Barabbas!" Luke is careful to tell us exactly who Barabbas was. He was an insurrectionist and a murderer. He was guilty of the very political crime, sedition, that the chief priests had falsely pinned on Jesus. Barabbas was a man who took up the sword against Rome. Jesus was a man who told Peter to put his sword away. Barabbas was a man who took life. Jesus is the man who is the resurrection and the life.
This is a satanic parody of the substitutionary atonement. The crowd is demanding a substitution, but it is a backwards one. They are demanding that the innocent die so that the guilty murderer might go free. This choice reveals the soul of rebellion against God. The unregenerate heart will always prefer a Barabbas to a Jesus. Why? Because Barabbas represents rebellion on our own terms. He represents violent, self-serving revolution. Jesus represents submission, repentance, and bowing the knee to the one true King. And the world hates that. It would rather have a bloody revolutionary who affirms their own lust for power than a gentle King who calls them to deny themselves.
The Prevailing Voices (vv. 20-23)
Pilate, seeing his plan has backfired, tries to reason with the mob, but reason is a poor weapon against raw hatred.
"But again Pilate addressed them, wanting to release Jesus, but they kept on calling out, saying, 'Crucify, crucify Him!' And he said to them a third time, 'Why, what evil has this man done? I have found in Him no guilt worthy of death; therefore I will punish Him and release Him.' But they were insistent, with loud voices asking that He be crucified. And their voices were prevailing." (Luke 23:20-23)
Pilate is now in a panic. He genuinely wants to release Jesus. His conscience, his Roman sense of order, everything in him is screaming that this is wrong. But the crowd is relentless. Their response is not an argument; it is a primal scream. "Crucify, crucify Him!" There is no debate, no presentation of evidence. There is only a demand for blood.
Pilate tries a third time, pleading with them. "Why? What evil has this man done?" It is a perfectly reasonable question. But they are beyond reason. He repeats his verdict of innocence for the third time. He offers his pathetic, unjust compromise again: "I will punish Him and release Him." But it is no use. The text says they were "insistent, with loud voices." And then we have the tragic, telling phrase: "And their voices were prevailing."
The sheer volume and persistence of the mob wore down the weak convictions of the governor. This is a permanent lesson for all of us. A man who does not stand on the rock of God's Word will always be washed away by the tide of public opinion. A leader who governs by polls instead of principles will inevitably become a servant of the loudest and most wicked voices in the crowd. Pilate's authority was a sham. The real power in that courtyard was not the Roman governor, but the demonic spirit driving the mob. And Pilate, in his cowardice, bowed the knee.
The Final Decree (vv. 24-25)
The contest is over. The will of the people has won. The governor of Judea becomes a mere errand boy for a lynch mob.
"And Pilate pronounced sentence that their demand be granted. And he released the man they were asking for who had been thrown into prison for insurrection and murder, but he delivered Jesus to their will." (Luke 24:24-25)
Pilate pronounces sentence. He officially and legally condemns an innocent man to the most brutal form of execution ever devised. He does this against his own stated judgment, against the law he represents, and against all decency. He does it simply because the pressure was too great. He granted their demand.
And so the great, dark transaction is completed. The murderer is released back into society. The Author of Life is handed over to be killed. Jesus is "delivered... to their will." On one level, this is the ultimate tragedy. It is the triumph of injustice, the victory of the mob, the failure of law and order. It is the moment when the world showed its true colors and, given the choice, chose darkness over light, death over life, Barabbas over Christ.
But this is not the whole story. For behind "their will" was another, greater, sovereign will. Pilate delivered Jesus to the will of the Jews. But God the Father was delivering His Son to His own holy and predetermined will. As the apostles would later preach, Herod, Pilate, and the people of Israel all gathered together "to do whatever Your hand and Your purpose predestined to occur" (Acts 4:28). The wicked wills of men are never outside the sovereign decree of God. They were all acting as free, responsible, and utterly wicked agents. And in their very wickedness, they were fulfilling the plan of redemption that God had ordained from before the foundation of the world. They thought they were winning. They thought they were disposing of a rival. But they were simply building the altar upon which the Lamb of God would be slain for the sins of the world.
Conclusion: We Are Barabbas
What are we to take from this? First, we must see the utter folly of placing our ultimate trust in human institutions. The religious courts and the secular courts both failed. Democracy, in its purest form, resulted in the murder of God. Our hope cannot be in political solutions or judicial appointments. Our only hope is in the King that they crucified.
Second, we must recognize ourselves in this crowd. In our sin, we are all insurrectionists. We have all raised a fist against the rightful rule of God. We are all murderers in our hearts. We are Barabbas. We are the guilty ones who deserve to be on that cross. Every one of us has, by our sin, shouted along with the crowd, "Crucify Him!"
And that is where the glorious good news crashes in. The crowd demanded a substitution: the innocent for the guilty. And God, in His infinite mercy, granted that request in a way they could never have imagined. He took their wicked demand and turned it into our salvation. He put His perfect Son in the place that we, the guilty, deserved. Jesus was delivered to their will so that He could accomplish His Father's will. He took the place of Barabbas, and He took the place of every person who would ever repent and believe in Him.
The murderer walked free that day, and it was a great injustice. But we, the rebels and insurrectionists, walk free for all eternity, and it is the greatest act of grace the universe has ever known. The choice is still before us today. The world still screams for Barabbas. It still wants revolution on its own terms. But the gospel calls us to turn away from the voice of the crowd, to look upon the one they crucified, and to confess that this innocent man is our only Lord and our only Savior. He is the King who took the criminal's place.