Sunday, April 14, 2019

Palm Pilate, or Barabba-Dabba-Doo!

Went to the Vigil Mass last night, because Palm Sunday usually gets a crowd and the Mass can run a good hour and a half. It's a tough Mass because it requires audience participation. As I noted a couple of years ago, we get all the stupid dialogue, too.

"We want Barabbas!"

Morons.

We don't know much about the Barabbas in question, except that he was a notorious thief, some sort of rebel, maybe a murderer, possibly the son of a rabbi (based on the etymology of the name Barabbas), and was played by Stacy Keach in the epic Jesus of Nazareth

Not a lot of mustache for this part.
Swedish author Pär Lagerkvist wrote a novel about the man, published in 1950. Unlike a lot of novels based on the New Testament (Ben-Hur, The Robe, Quo Vadis), there's no joy or sacrifice or salvation in Barabbas. The character based on the man is a thug, a man who ultimately would like to believe in Christ but is incapable of giving or receiving love, and dies in his sins. This is the kind of book Scandinavians enjoy -- loveless people who embrace despair. That's why they gave Bob Dylan the Nobel Prize. (Kidding!)

I don't quite agree with the Swedes. I don't see a great story of salvation in Barabbas, either. I just think of him and so many other figures in the Gospels as I probably would have been had I been there, someone deeply protective of his self-interests and desiring nothing that would lead to more trouble, like, say, following the cult of a crucified savior. I probably would have been as far away from Calvary as I could possibly be.

The Romans were no joke in their occupation. I've always been a little sympathetic toward Pontius Pilate, stuck in this dusty outpost with these ungovernable people and trying not to look bad before his cruel bosses in Rome. Then again, he was marked by your average Roman cruelty; he doesn't want to have Jesus killed because he sees no fault in the guy, but he's fine with flaying him half to death. I was quite taken by Rod Steiger's portrayal in Jesus of Nazareth; yeah, Steiger liked to overact, but he seemed to get the measure of the man. I am sure I have also been unduly influenced by the sympathetic portrayal of Pilate in Mikhail Bulgakov's famous novel The Master and Margarita

But if I'd been a Jew in Jerusalem, I'd have gone nowhere near any Romans if I could help it.

When I was confirmed I was supposed to receive the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit: Wisdom, Understanding, Counsel, Fortitude, Knowledge, Piety, and Fear of the Lord. I think readers of this blog will agree that many of these don't apply to me (Wisdom! Ha!), and I can assure you that Fortitude, also known as the Spirit of Courage, seems to have been lost in transit with the others.

"We want Barabbas"?

I'd have been saying, "Feet, don't fail me now!"

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