And is it not true that all such competitors of His, when they lead
men to prefer them to Him, are 'murderers,' in a sadder sense than
Barabbas was? Do they not slay the souls of their admirers? Is it not
but too ghastly a reality that all who thus choose them draw down
ruin on themselves and 'love death'?

This fatal paradox is being repeated every day in the lives of
thousands. The crowds who yelled, 'Not this man but Barabbas!' were
less guilty and less mad than those who to-day cry, 'Not Jesus but
worldly wealth, or fleeting bodily delights, or gratified ambition!'

II. The paradox of Death's seeming conquest over the Lord of Life.

The word rendered 'Prince' means an originator, and hence a leader
and hence a lord. Whether Peter had yet reached a conception of the
divinity of Jesus or not, he had clearly reached a much higher one of
Him than he had attained before His death. In some sense he was
beginning to recognise that His relation to 'life' was loftier and
more mysterious than that of other men. Was it His death only that
thus elevated the disciples' thoughts of Jesus? Strange that if He
died and there an end, such a result should have followed. One would
have expected His death to have shattered their faith in Him, but
somehow it strengthened their faith. Why did they not all continue to
lament, as did the two of them on the road to Emmaus: 'We trusted
that this had been He who should have redeemed Israel'--but now we
trust no more, and our dreams are buried in His grave? Why did they
not go back to Galilee and their nets? What raised their spirits,
their courage, and increased their understanding of Him, and their
faith in Him? How came His death to be the occasion of consolidating,