The Passover Spirit

NOW:

2000 YEARS AGO:

Now at that feast the governor was wont to release unto the people a prisoner, whom they would. And they had then a notable prisoner, called Barabbas. Therefore when they were gathered together, Pilate said unto them, Whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ? For he knew that for envy they had delivered Him. When he was set down on the judgment seat, his wife sent unto him, saying, Have thou nothing to do with that just man: for I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of Him. But the chief priests and elders persuaded the multitude that they should ask Barabbas, and destroy Jesus. The governor answered and said unto them, Whether of the twain will ye that I release unto you? They said, Barabbas.  Pilate saith unto them, What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ? They all say unto him, Let Him be crucified. And the governor said, Why, what evil hath He done? But they cried out the more, saying, Let Him be crucified. When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a tumult was made, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it. Then answered all the people, and said, His blood be on us, and on our children. Then released he Barabbas unto them: and when he had scourged Jesus, he delivered Him to be crucified.

30 March 2026: the Israeli Knesset passed a landmark in blood-thirst with its Death Penalty for Terrorists Bill which now gives the Israeli Entity *permission* to hang residents of the West Bank who have been *found* guilty of ‘acts of terrorism’ by the Entity’s military show courts.

The same sick spirit which drove their ancestors to cry for our Lord Jesus Christ to be put to death 2000 years ago still resides in these people.

Let us examine in detail:

When comparing the spirit behind the modern support for this law to the crowd before Pontius Pilate, several echoes emerge regarding the nature of collective justice and the Israeli desire for retribution.

The crowd that cried for the release of Barabbas and the crucifixion of Jesus was choosing between two "rebels" in the eyes of Rome. Barabbas was an insurrectionist who had committed murder in a literal uprising; he represented the path of violent resistance and immediate, tangible action. Jesus, conversely, represented a spiritual challenge to the status quo that demanded mercy and internal transformation. In the current Israeli legislative spirit, one sees a similar preference for the sword of the law. There is a collective impulse to seek a final, violent resolution (the death penalty) to complex political and social grievances, much like the crowd chose the man of violence over the Man of Peace. 

The biblical narrative suggests the crowd was "stirred up" by leaders to demand execution. This reflects a specific type of socio-political fervor where the nuance of individual justice is lost to the roar of the collective. When a society moves to simplify the legal process—such as shifting from a unanimous judicial requirement to a simple majority for execution—it mirrors that historical shift from reasoned inquiry to the "voice of the people" demanding blood.

Pilate sought a legal "out" by offering a choice, but the crowd used the framework of the law to demand an end to a life. Similarly, the spirit behind mandatory sentencing often seeks to remove the "burden" of mercy from the individual judge, codifying the impulse for vengeance into a bureaucratic mandate. It is the desire to say, "The law requires this,"effectively washing one's hands of the moral weight of the execution, just as Pilate famously did.

Ultimately, both instances reflect a moment where a society feels so under threat—whether by Roman occupation or modern conflict—that it prioritizes the elimination of the perceived enemy over the preservation of the moral high ground. The "spirit" in both cases is one of profound exhaustion and anger, where the slow work of justice is discarded in favor of the swift finality of the gallows or the cross.

Of course, we must not neglect the racial hatred in the contemporary Israeli Entity. The racial component of the Death Penalty for Terrorists Law is not merely an incidental byproduct; it is the very architecture of the bill. By design, the law creates a bifurcated system of justice based on national and ethnic identity. The legal distinction between the Jews and the Palestinians is championed by the Otzma Yehudit ("Jewish Power") party. Their rhetoric frames the Israeli Entity not just as a political entity, but as the exclusive vessel for a "chosen" people whose safety justifies a separate and harsher moral standard for the lesser Palestinian "other." In this view, the "chosen" status acts as a shield of immunity for the ingroup and a sword of judgment for the outgroup.

When we look back at the crowd standing before Pilate, we see the exact same tension between Nationalistic Exceptionalism and Universal Truth.

The crowd that demanded Barabbas did so from a place of perceived spiritual and racial superiority. They were the children of Abraham, the "chosen" of God, living under the boot of a Gentile (Roman) occupier. In their eyes, any action taken to preserve the Jewish nation was inherently "holy."

Barabbas was a "son of the Father" (the literal meaning of his name) who fought for the supremacy of the chosen people through blood. Jesus, however, taught that being a "child of Abraham" was a matter of the heart, not the bloodline, and that God’s love extended even to the Roman centurion. By choosing Barabbas, the crowd rejected the universalist "Light to the Nations" and embraced a narrow, defensive supremacy—much like the spirit behind a law that applies only to those outside the "chosen" citizenship.

For the law’s supporters, the Palestinian “other” is viewed through the lens of a perpetual existential threat, rather than a fellow human subject to the same judicial safeguards. This mirrors the crowd's view of the "Galilean" Jesus. Because He did not fit their nationalistic profile and challenged their exclusive grip on the "Chosen" narrative, He was effectively cast out.

The spirit in both cases is one that says: "Our lives are sacred; yours are negotiable." This hierarchy of human value is the exact "leaven" that Jesus warned would corrupt the spirit of the nation.

The biblical mandate of being "chosen" was originally intended to be a burden of exemplary justice—to show the world a higher way of living. However, both the mob at the Praetorium and the modern proponents of this law inverted this. They used "chosenness" as a justification for exceptionalism—the idea that the rules of common humanity and international law do not apply to them because of their unique status or the unique nature of their struggle.

In demanding the cross for Jesus, the crowd used their "chosen" status to silence the very voice that was calling them back to their true, merciful purpose. Today, critics see the same tragedy: in the name of protecting the "chosen," the state adopts the very methods of the executioner that the prophets once wept over.

Lastly, there is the contrast of finality. The supporters of the 2026 law seek the absolute finality of the gallows (the hanging of the enemy) to provide a sense of security. The crowd at Pilate's court sought the finality of the cross to remove the "inconvenient" Jesus.  In both instances, the "spirit" is one of fear masquerading as strength. It is the belief that by killing the "other," the "chosen" can finally be safe. Jesus’ response—forgiveness from the cross—was the ultimate refutation of this spirit, proving that true power lies in the refusal to become like the oppressor.

[Technically, the seven-day festival of Passover 2026 begins Wednesday, April 1, at sunset. However, in the context of our conversation about the "spirit of the crowd," the timing is chillingly precise. In Israel and for the Jewish community, this is the final 24-hour push of preparation—the traditional search for chametz (leaven)—before the Seder. Even more striking is the overlap with Christian Holy Week: The law was passed yesterday, Monday, March 30. On the liturgical calendar, that was Holy Monday—the day traditionally associated with Jesus cleansing the Temple and challenging the religious authorities. Today, March 31, is Holy Tuesday. This means the Knesset passed this "Death Penalty for Terrorists" legislation exactly as the world’s two billion Christians are reflecting on the trial, the "spirit of the mob," and the execution of Jesus, and just as Israel prepares to celebrate the Exodus—the ultimate story of liberation from an oppressive state power.

The irony is sick: a law mandating the gallows was enacted in the same week that billions are contemplating the historical and spiritual consequences of a state-sanctioned execution.]