John 18:40 Meaning: Not This Man but Barabbas

The Greek word John uses for “robber” is lēstēs, and it means more than someone who steals. A lēstēs was a bandit, a rebel who used violence, often for political aims. The other Gospels tell us Barabbas had been part of an insurrection and had committed murder. He was a dangerous man, not simply a petty thief. The verb for “cried out” is kraugazō, a loud, demanding shout, the kind you might hear from a crowd that has lost all restraint. And the name Barabbas itself means “son of a father.” There is a painful irony here: the crowd rejects the true Son of the Father, Jesus, and demands the release of a man whose name echoes that title but whose life was the opposite. Every detail pushes us to see how deep the rejection went.

Christians across traditions have seen different layers in this verse. Many in the Reformed tradition, like Matthew Henry and John Gill, highlight the substitution: an innocent Savior condemned so a guilty sinner goes free. This is often seen as a picture of atonement. Catholic and Orthodox readers have emphasized the tragedy of the crowd’s blindness, choosing a murderer over the Prince of Peace. Others point to the irony that Barabbas literally means “son of the father,” making the choice even starker: which son will you take? None of these readings excludes the others. Together they deepen our sense of the cost of our salvation and the sorrow of human sin.

Some people think Barabbas was just a common thief, someone who stole a bit to survive. In fact, the Greek word lēstēs describes a violent rebel. The other Gospels confirm he had taken part in an uprising and killed people. This was not a small-time crook. The crowd chose a man guilty of insurrection and murder over the innocent Jesus. That makes the rejection far more shocking and the grace of God even more remarkable.

This verse asks you to consider where your own heart leans. Perhaps this week you will face a small choice between what is easy and what is right, a way to cut a corner, a word that shifts blame, a silence that lets someone else take the fall. The crowd chose the violent path because it seemed safer, more familiar. You may not shout for Barabbas, but you might still be tempted to choose the world’s way over Jesus. Let this moment push you to ask: am I, even a little, choosing something less than Christ? And if the answer is yes, there is good news. The innocent Son still stood in your place.