It is to Pilate's credit that he kept up his efforts so long. Luke
wishes to impress us with his persistency, as well as with the fixed
determination of the Jews, by his note of 'the third time.' Thrice was
the choice offered to them, and thrice did they put away the possibility
of averting their doom. But Pilate's persistency had a weak place, for
he was afraid of his subjects, and, while willing to save Jesus, was
not willing to imperil himself in doing it. Self-interest takes the
strength out of resolution to do right, like a crumbling stone in a
sea wall, which lets in the wave that ruins the whole structure.
Pilate had come to the end of his shifts to escape pronouncing
sentence. The rulers had refused to judge Jesus according to their
law. Herod had sent Him back with thanks, but unsentenced. The Jews
would not have Him, but Barabbas, released, nor would they accept
scourging in lieu of crucifying. So he has to decide at last whether
to be just and fear not, or basely to give way, and draw down on his
head momentary applause at the price of everlasting horror. Luke
notices in all three stages the loud cries of the Jews, and in this
last one he gives special emphasis to them. 'Their voices
prevailed.' What a condemnation for a judge! He 'gave sentence that
what they asked for should be done.' Baseness in a judge could go no
farther. The repetition of the characterisation of Barabbas brings
up once more the hideousness of the people's choice, and the tragic
words 'to their will' sets in a ghastly light the flagrant injustice
of the judge, and yet greater crime of the Jews. To deliver Jesus to
their will was base; to entertain such a 'will' towards Jesus was
more than base,--it was 'the ruin of them, and of all Israel.' Our
whole lives here and hereafter turn on what is our 'will' to Him.