The Pattern Repeats
The crucifixion of Jesus is the most famous public execution in history. It was more than a historical event. It was a pattern—a ritual sacrifice of truth by a society caught in the grip of fear, delusion, and centralized control. Jesus, the man who healed without charge, who preached peace without coercion, and who taught love without law, was murdered by a system that claimed to be protecting the public good. Sound familiar?
It wasn’t just Rome that killed him, democracy did. It was the crowd. It was the religious elite. It was the state, playing savior while crucifying the real one. That pattern has not vanished. It has only evolved.
The State Cannot Tolerate the Free
Jesus was dangerous because he offered something the state could not: voluntary virtue. He didn’t seize wealth to redistribute it. He didn’t promise security through obedience. He taught responsibility, generosity, and compassion—without force. He was not a revolutionary in the political sense. He didn’t seek to dethrone Caesar. He simply exposed the lie that Caesar was God.
The state, what Nietzsche called “the coldest of all cold monsters,” cannot abide such truth. It relies on the illusion of necessity, the myth of benevolence enforced by power. When Jesus said, “The truth will set you free,” He was not offering a polite suggestion. He was sounding a death knell for empires built on fear, force, and the manipulation of the masses.
The Masses Choose Barabbas
When offered a choice, the crowd picked Barabbas—a violent insurrectionist—over the Prince of Peace. Why? Because Barabbas was familiar. He was the political tool, the sanctioned rebel, the controllable threat. Jesus was none of these. He didn’t fit into their binary of oppressor and liberator. He pointed to a higher standard: truth, individual responsibility, moral courage.
Today, the same choice is made daily. The Barabbases of our time are those who promise revolution through the machinery of the state, who scream of justice while demanding obedience. The masses, conditioned by fear and envy, choose them again and again. They demand the crucifixion of whistleblowers, dissidents, and thinkers who refuse to worship the new idols.
Statism as the New Religion
Modern politics has become theology by other means. The state claims the authority to define good and evil, to redistribute property, to legislate morality. All in the name of compassion. But what is compassion if it comes at the barrel of a gun? What is charity if it’s enforced by threat?
Jesus never preached violent redistribution. He never endorsed political coercion. His kingdom was not of this world. Yet, many who claim his name now praise systems that operate by aggression. They confuse kindness with compliance, love with legislation.
The Role of the Church Today
The Church once stood as a bulwark against tyranny. Now many church leaders serve as state chaplains, blessing war, endorsing welfare statism, and parroting the talking points of bureaucratic elites. Instead of echoing Jesus’ call to radical personal virtue, they call for more programs, more taxes, more centralization.
Truth cannot be centralized. Morality cannot be nationalized. The moment force enters the equation, the gospel is distorted. Christians must reject the use of the state as a moral engine. Jesus didn’t die to make us better taxpayers. He died because the state couldn’t allow a man to speak truth without a permit.
The Warning and the Hope
The crucifixion is a warning: a society that fears truth will destroy the truth-tellers. Mass psychosis is not just possible—it’s historical. Entire populations can cheer as innocent men are condemned, if the right slogans are repeated enough.
But the crucifixion is also a hope: Jesus rose. The truth didn’t stay buried. Lies only win when the good stay silent. The crowd will always choose Barabbas—unless enough people dare to stand apart, to resist the madness, and to speak freely, even when it’s dangerous.
The state can crucify the body. It cannot kill the truth. Unless we let it.
References
The Bible
Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra