As Easter nears, I think about two men 鈥� one who died, and one who didn鈥檛. Jesus died; Barabbas didn鈥檛. Or maybe it鈥檚 the other way around, in the long term.

If 1st century Israel had telephone books, Jesus could not have been listed. He didn鈥檛 qualify for a last name. Although he is commonly called Jesus Christ, Christ was not his family name. In fact, it鈥檚 not a name at all. It鈥檚 a title, an honorific, like 鈥淩everend鈥� or 鈥淧resident.鈥� Christ 鈥� Christos in Greek 鈥� is the term used for the Messiah, the anointed one, the chosen one.

In his culture, sons were identified by their father鈥檚 name. The prefix 鈥淏ar鈥� meant 鈥渟on of,鈥� just like 鈥淢ac鈥� or 鈥淢c鈥� for the Scots, and 鈥淥鈥� for the Irish.

The earliest biblical texts describe Jesus only as the son of Mary 鈥� making him a no-count illegitimate. Later versions legitimize him by providing a human father 鈥� Joseph, son of Jacob, a descendant of the legendary King David. But Jesus is never, never, described as Jesus Bar-Joseph.

And Jesus himself never refers to Joseph as his father.

He reserves the term 鈥淔ather鈥� 鈥� in Aramaic, 鈥渁bba,鈥� better translated by our familiar 鈥淒addy鈥� 鈥� for his relationship with God. John鈥檚 gospel regularly pairs Jesus with a divine father. Jesus spends almost two chapters of that gospel exploring the intimacy of his relationship with his Father, meaning God.

By a cruel irony, when governor Pontius Pilate offers to free Jesus as a goodwill gesture for the Jewish Passover, an angry crowd demands that he release, instead, a thief and murderer named 鈥淏arabbas.鈥� Barabbas 鈥� 鈥渢he son of the father鈥�.

And so the man who said 鈥淭he Father and I are one鈥� was executed on a trumped-up charge of claiming to be King of the Jews, while the man named 鈥淪on of the Father鈥� was set free. The coincidence is so keen, it almost demands further exploration.

Did the freed Barabbas go to Golgotha, to the hill of many skulls, to watch his stand-in die?

What did it do to him, to know that he was alive only because an innocent person took his place? Was he haunted by guilt? Did it change his life? Or did he grab his unexpected freedom with both hands and scamper out of Jerusalem, away from the unholy liaison between Temple and Rome, to resume his career of crime?

At least one writer has felt inspired to look at life through the eyes of the man who didn鈥檛 get executed. Par Lagerkvist wrote a 1950 novel called Barabbas.

A commentary describes the novel as founded on thesis and antithesis 鈥� similarities and contrasts. Jesus dies first; Barabbas dies later. Jesus is crucified in Jerusalem; Barabbas, in Rome. Jesus talks to God; Barabbas, to darkness. Barabbas is, in many ways, a modern person. He says he wants to believe, but can鈥檛 accept the exalted beliefs of early Christians about Resurrection and the Second Coming. What he really believes in is the 鈥渙paque and remorseless void that surrounds his life.鈥�

He is a fatalist. Where others find meaning, Barabbas finds only meaninglessness.

Perhaps the novel鈥檚 central antithesis is that because Barabbas has never known love, he can never understand someone who embodied love.

Author Jim Taylor lives in Lake Country: rewrite@shaw.ca