Setting the Guilty Free

Thank you for reading this sermon from Christ Fellowship. I hope and pray that this sermon will be a blessing of grace and truth to you. With that said, let me encourage you not to use this sermon as a replacement for your local church. Christ Jesus did not establish his Church simply for us to consume content. Instead, He calls us to be part of a real, covenant family. 

We’re in Luke 23 this morning, still in the courtroom with Jesus. But I want to start by taking you to another courtroom, this one in 1944.

George Stinney Jr., a 14-year-old Black boy in South Carolina, was accused of murdering two white girls. He was tried by an all-white jury. No physical evidence. No witnesses. The trial lasted just a few hours. The jury deliberated for ten minutes. He was executed by electric chair—becoming the youngest person executed in the United States in the 20th century.

Seventy years later, a court vacated the conviction. George was innocent.

We all know why it happened. People wanted someone to blame. They were scared, angry, and unwilling to wait for truth. Justice gave way to racism and pressure.

Now go back two thousand years to another courtroom—this time in Jerusalem. The judge, Pilate, declares Jesus innocent not once, but three times. Even Herod can’t find a charge. But the crowd is shouting for blood. And Pilate gives in.

Why? Because human hearts—then and now—are prone to reject what’s right when it gets in the way. The truth is inconvenient. Justice is costly. And sometimes… we would rather crucify the innocent than lose our power, reputation, or control.

This is the world Jesus entered. This is the world He came to redeem.

13 Pilate then called together the chief priests and the rulers and the people,

14 and said to them, “You brought me this man as one who was misleading the people. And after examining him before you, behold, I did not find this man guilty of any of your charges against him.

Pilate declares Jesus innocent for the first time.

15 Neither did Herod, for he sent him back to us. Look, nothing deserving death has been done by him.

Herod declares Jesus innocent and Pilate declares him innocent for the second time.

16 I will therefore punish and release him.”

18 But they all cried out together, “Away with this man, and release to us Barabbas”—

19 a man who had been thrown into prison for an insurrection started in the city and for murder.

Barrabas is a man who everyone knows is guilty of capital crimes. The crowds know this man is guilty. But still, they demand a prisoner exchange.

20 Pilate addressed them once more, desiring to release Jesus,

21 but they kept shouting, “Crucify, crucify him!”

This is the first time in the Gospel of Luke that crucifixion is mentioned. We should pause and talk about what kind of death they are demanding.

The Romans used crucifixion exclusively for the lowest class – slaves, rebels, and criminals. Victims were stripped naked. The death was slow and incredibly painful. It was intentionally prolonged.

Victims were scourged, forced to carry the cross, and nailed to it at their wrists and feet. As the body weakened, the victim could no longer push up to breathe. Most eventually died by asphyxiation. Some died from shock or heart failure.

This is what the crowds are demanding.

22 A third time he said to them, “Why? What evil has he done? I have found in him no guilt deserving death. I will therefore punish and release him.”

For the third time, Pilate declares Jesus innocent.

23 But they were urgent, demanding with loud cries that he should be crucified. And their voices prevailed.

24 So Pilate decided that their demand should be granted.

25 He released the man who had been thrown into prison for insurrection and murder, for whom they asked, but he delivered Jesus over to their will.

This is an important part of the Gospel story, because it reveals so much about us.

It reveals our human tendency to suppress the truth. The Bible doesn’t teach that we are ignorant of the truth, but that we intentionally push it down because we don’t like what it says about us.

Romans 1:18
For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth.

John 3:19
The light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil.

Pilate knows Jesus is innocent. The crowd hears the verdict three times and still demands crucifixion. They are not concerned with truth.

That’s because truth threatens our control. Truth calls us to repentance. It demands humility and change. It exposes our selfish desires for comfort and autonomy. The moment we acknowledge the truth, we are held accountable to it.

If Jesus is the King of the Universe, then we don’t get to decide for ourselves what is right and what is wrong. And the world refuses to submit, because people want to do what is right in their own eyes.

We’ve also invented a lot of ways to suppress the truth. Some people choose the path of moral relativism. We say that truth is subjective, so we don’t have to obey any particular standard. It’s also common in academic circles to say that all truth claims are just manipulative power plays, which is a clever way to reverse control in our favor.

Some of us suppress the truth by ignoring it. We stay busy or distracted by our own pursuits for comfort, entertainment, knowledge, or success. Instead of listening to our conscience, we redefine sin as “personal choices” or “authenticity”. I’m just being “me”.

We see this power struggle taking place in our relationships. We fight for control in our marriages. Children fight for control with their parents and parents do it with their children. The result is a lack of humility and meaningful change.

We exchange truth and justice for convenience. We let fear and the influence of others dictate our moral decisions to avoid conflict or discomfort. We use people to get what we want. And there are many tragic examples of this in history.

In 1986, NASA prepared to launch the Space Shuttle Challenger. Engineers had warned against launching in cold temperatures—the rubber O-rings on the booster rockets might fail. But the pressure to move forward was immense. The nation was watching. A schoolteacher was onboard. Postponing the launch would be embarrassing and costly.

And we all know what happened. The launch proceeded. And 73 seconds later, the Challenger exploded, killing all seven crew members.

NASA knew about the danger. But the truth was inconvenient. So, it was suppressed.

They didn’t launch because they didn’t know. They launched because they didn’t want to know. And this sort of thing happens with us daily, in smaller ways.

How many times have you been in an argument with a friend or a family member and halfway through the argument you realize you’re wrong.

You said something hurtful. You exaggerated. You lied. And in that moment, you feel it: the tug of conscience, the whisper to come clean and apologize.

But instead of saying, “I’m sorry, I was wrong,” you pivot. You defend. You push back. You bring up their mistake. You hide. Or you try to walk away. What happened?

The truth knocked at the door of your heart, and you pushed it down. Because admitting fault felt too vulnerable. You didn’t want to lose control. You didn’t want to look weak.

So instead of repentance, you chose self-protection. Instead of reconciliation, you extended the fight. And the relationship suffers—not because you didn’t know the truth, but because you didn’t want to face it.

That’s what happened in Luke 23. Pilate saw the truth. The crowd heard the truth. But when truth threatened their comfort, pride, and control, they shouted it down. And the innocent was crucified.

We may not hold hammers and nails, but we still suppress the truth whenever we refuse to own our sin, admit we’re wrong, or choose what’s easy for us over what’s right.

Jesus doesn’t just reveal the truth. He IS the Truth. The cross is the moment when the truth about us and the truth about God collide. We are guilty. He is merciful.

God doesn’t suppress the truth about us—He exposes it, deals with it at the cross, and then covers it in grace.

We crucified the innocent to set the guilty free. But that was God’s plan all along.

Take a moment to consider, who are we in this story? The character that we are most meant to identify with is not Pilate or Herod or the crowds. It’s Barrabas – the guilty man set free in exchange for the life of God’s only Son.

So, what do we do with this? We stop pretending… we stop pretending that truth is always someone else’s problem, or that suppression only happens in courtrooms and corrupt institutions. It happens in our hearts. In our homes. In our churches.

We suppress the truth when we refuse correction…
When we manipulate others to keep control…
When we stay quiet because standing up would cost us something…
When we would rather keep our image than walk in repentance.

But Jesus came for people like that. People like us. People like Barabbas.

He came to stand silent in the courtroom so we could be declared free. He took the place of the guilty, not because we deserved it, but because that’s who He is. The truth we tried to suppress… was the truth that saved us.

So, here’s your invitation:

First, confess where you’ve suppressed the truth. Where have you been pushing down conviction? Justifying sin? Running from responsibility?

Second, look to the cross—the place where your guilt has already been exposed and dealt with. There is no sin so shameful that Christ could not bear it.

Finally, start walking in the freedom of His grace. You don’t have to be the strong one, or the right one, or the person in control. You just need to be the honest one. The repentant one. The one who says, “I know the Truth and the Truth has set me free!”

Because when truth is no longer something you fear, but Someone you follow… that’s when real freedom begins.

Barabbas walked away free that day. And so can you.