There stood the Son of God, wearing the robe of mockery and the crown of thorns. Stripped to the waist, His back showed the long, cruel stripes, from which the blood flowed freely. His face was stained with blood, and bore the marks of exhaustion and pain; but never had it appeared more beautiful than now. The Saviour's visage was not marred before His enemies. Every feature expressed gentleness and resignation and the tenderest pity for His cruel foes. In His manner there was no cowardly weakness, but the strength and dignity of long-suffering. In striking contrast was the prisoner at His side. Every line of the countenance of Barabbas proclaimed him the hardened ruffian that he was. The contrast spoke to every beholder. Some of the spectators were weeping. As they looked upon Jesus, their hearts were full of sympathy. Even the priests and rulers were convicted that He was all that He claimed to be.

Der stod Guds Søn iført spottens dragt og med tornekronen på hovedet. Da han var nøgen til bæltestedet, så man på hans ryg de lange, frygtelige striber efter slagene, hvorfra blodet flød. Hans ansigt var blodplettet og præget af udmattelse og smerte; men aldrig havde det set skønnere ud end nu. Frelserens ansigtsudtryk havde ikke ændret sig i hans fjenders nærværelse. Ethvert af hans træk udtrykte mildhed og selvhengivelse og den kærligste medlidenhed med hans grusomme fjender. Der fandtes ingen fej svaghed i hans optræden, men langmodighedens styrke og værdighed. Fangen ved hans side var en slående modsætning til ham. Hvert træk i Barabbas ansigt var udtryk for, hvilken forhærdet forbryder han var. Enhver, der så dem, måtte føle modsætningen. Der var nogle af tilskuerne, der græd. Medens de betragtede Jesus, fyldtes deres hjerter af deltagelse. Selv præsterne og de ældste var overbeviste om, at han var den, han hævdede at være.