But it happened at the same hour, when the Son of Man was lead out to Golgotha, which is the place where they execute thieves and murders.

It happened at the same high and glowing hour, when He completed his work.

It happened that at the same hour a large number of people drew noisily along Jerusalem’s streets—and in the midst of these people Barabbas, the murderer, walked and carried his head defiantly high.

And decorated strumpets with red-painted lips and made up faces were all around him and grabbed at him. And men were around him, whose eyes gazed drunk with wine and vice. But the sin of the flesh lurked in their talking, and the fornication of their gestures was the expression of their thoughts.

Many, who met this drunken procession, joined it and cried: “Long live Barrabas!” And all screamed: “Live Barrabas !” Someone also cried: “Hosiannah”. But they hit this one—because only a few days ago they had shouted “Hosiannah” to One who came drawn into town as a king, and they had strewn fresh palm branches before him. But today they strew red roses and cheered: “Barrabas!”

And as they passed by a palace, they heard string playing and laughter and the noise of a great revelry. And from the house a young person stepped in a solemn vestment. And his hair shone from scented oils and his body smelled of the most precious Arabian essences. His eye shone from the joys of the revelry and the smile of his mouth was lustful from the kisses of his lover.

When the young man recognized Barabbas, he came forward to him and spoke:

“Step into my house, o Barabbas, and you shall rest on my softest pillows; step inside, o Barabbas, and my maids will anoint your body with the most precious balms. By your feet a girl will play on the lute its sweetest tunes and from my most precious chalice I will offer you my most fiery wine. And into the wine I want to throw the most glorious of my pearls. O Barabbas, be my guest for today—and for this day my love, which is more beautiful than the red of a morning in spring, belongs to my guest. Step inside, Barabbas, and wreath your head with roses, enjoy this day, since the One whom they set thorns on the head dies.”

And as the youth spoke thus, the people cheered him and Barabbas climbed onto the marble stage like a victor. And the younth took the roses that wreathed his head and put them around the temples of the murderer Barabbas.

Then he stepped with him into the house, meanwhile the people on the streets were cheering.

On soft pillows, Barabbas rested; maids anointed his body with the most delicious balms and by his feet the lovely string play of a girl sounded and on his lap the lover of the youth sat, more beautiful than the red of a morning in spring. And laughter sounded—and the guests intoxicated themselves with egregious joys, because they all were enemies and despisers of the only One—Pharisees and subjugates of the priests.

At the appointed hour, the youth ordered silence, and all noise muted.

Then the youth filled his golden chalice with the most delicious wine, and in the vessel the wine became like glowing blood. He threw a pearl in and handed the chalice to Barabbas. The youth, however, reached for a chalice of crystal and drank to Barabbas:

“The Nazarene is dead! Long live Barabbas!”

And everyone in the hall cheered:

“The Nazarene is dead! Long live Barabbas!”

And the people in the roads cheered:

“The Nazarene is dead! Long live Barabbas!”

But suddenly the sun expired, the earth shook in its bedrock and a monstrous horror came over the world. And the creatures trembled.

In this same hour the work of redemption was accomplished!