More Than a Story: Finding Ourselves in Matthew 27

As we move closer to Easter, many of us return to the familiar story of Jesus and his journey to the cross.

We’ve heard it before. We know how it ends.

But this week I want to invite you not to rush ahead, to slow down and really look. So let's slow down and look at an all too familiar story, Jesus on trial in Matthew's gospel.

Because in the Gospel of Matthew (Chapter 27), it may look like Jesus is on trial…

But it’s actually us.

One by one, different voices step forward: Judas, the religious leaders, Pontius Pilate, the crowd, and Barabbas.

And the easy question is, what did they do? And it is easy for us, 2000 years later, to distance ourselves from the story and pass judgment. It's easy for us to sit here and say I wouldn't have betrayed Jesus, I wouldn’t have shouted, ' Crucify him.
But I don’t think Mathew the gospel writer gives us that option. And the question he really wants us to ask is: Do you see yourself here in this story? Am I actually the one standing on trial?

Mathew is putting humanity on trial and wants us to see ourselves not just as observers but as people actively participating in the story.

Some of us are like Judas.

We know we’ve got it wrong. We feel it deeply.
But instead of turning toward Jesus, we pull away, stuck in guilt, replaying failure, wondering if we’ve gone too far. Allowing the weight of our brokenness to eat us alive.

Others are more like the religious leaders.

We try to balance things out. Do something good to cover something wrong. Keep busy. Stay outwardly “fine”… while avoiding what’s really going on underneath. Thinking if I can do enough good, it will cover over the bad.

Some of us are like Pilate.

We know what’s right, but it’s costly. So we stay quiet. Delay. Step back. Choosing comfort over conviction. Washing our hands of responsibility when faced with injustice or evil.

And then there’s the crowd.

Given a choice between Jesus and something else… they choose what they want. And if we’re honest, we do the same, choosing control, comfort, or approval over trust and obedience.  Every time we choose our way over God's way, every time we choose sin over Jesus, we echo the crowd’s voice.

And Then There’s Barabbas. Barabbas is guilty. Condemned. No way out. And yet, he walks free. Jesus takes his place. The cross meant for Barabbas… becomes the cross for Jesus.

And this is where the story stops being distant. Because Barabbas isn’t just in the story. Barabbas is like us.

As we step into Easter, we don’t just see what humanity did to Jesus. We see what Jesus chose to do for us.

The innocent one stood there in silence. He didn’t defend Himself. He didn’t walk away.

Instead, Jesus Christ stepped forward and took it all, the injustice, the violence, the sin, the failure.

Not reluctantly. But willingly. Because of His overwhelming love for us. And through that, the cross does more than forgive.

It makes a way.

A way into life, and life to the full. A life no longer marked by guilt or striving, but by freedom, hope, joy, peace, and love.

The cross says:

• You are forgiven

• You are free

• A new way is open

The one who was bound, beaten and crucified so we could go free.
The one who took our place… so we could have His life.

So as we head into Easter, this isn’t just a story to remember.

It’s an invitation.

Where do you see yourself?

• Holding onto guilt?

• Covering things up?

• Avoiding what you know to be right?

• Choosing something else over Jesus?

Wherever you find yourself, the invitation is the same: Come to the cross.