“People to meet in heaven: Simon of Cyrene”
Mark 15:21
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
In the early 1970s, Kris Kristofferson was the toast of Nashville. He had already written a number of hit songs, like, “Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down,” “Me and Bobby McGee,” and “Help Me Make it through the Night.”
But in 1972, at one of his worst times in life, he went to church with some friends. And when the pastor stood before the congregation and asked, “Does anyone feel lost?” he put his hand up. And he said, as he knelt down that day, he cried and prayed to believe in Christ. “It was a release,” he said. “It really shook me up.”
Then he wrote a song, called, “Why Me, Lord?” Part of it went like this: “Why me, Lord? What have I ever done to deserve even one of the pleasures I’ve known? Tell me, Lord, what did I ever do that was worth loving You or the kindness You’ve shown?” And he wrote: “Now that I know that I’ve needed You so, help me, Jesus, my soul’s in Your hand.”
“Why me, Lord?” Kris Kristofferson sang it. You’ve asked it. And a man named Simon of Cyrene once asked it too.
Please turn with me in your Bible to page 1084 as I read the words of our text. I’ll start where it says, “Jesus is Mocked,” on the right-hand column, at chapter 15, verse 16: “And the soldiers led Him away inside the palace (that is, the governor’s headquarters), and they called together the whole battalion. And they clothed Him in a purple cloak, and twisting together a crown of thorns, they put it on Him. And they began to salute Him, ‘Hail, King of the Jews!’ And they were striking His head with a reed and spitting on Him and kneeling down in homage to Him. And when they had mocked Him, they stripped Him of the purple cloak and put His own clothes on Him. And they led Him out to crucify Him.”
By this time, Jesus was physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually exhausted. Through the night and into the early morning hours, He endured abuse at the hands of Sadducees and Pharisees. He stood in judgment before Annas and Caiaphas, Herod and Pilate. Soldiers beat Him again and again. Leather straps, laced with bits of metal and bone, were thrust against His back. Men mocked Him, spit on Him, and crowned His head with thorns. Blood poured from His head, His back, and His chest. And now, after hours of ridicule and scorn, He’s led out to the place of execution.
The path was crowded with shops and homes. People gathered on rooftops and along the sides of the road to catch the faces of the condemned and the consequence of their crimes. The procession moved at a snail’s pace, largely because of the One so badly beaten.
Normally, the soldiers wouldn’t have cared how long the journey took. But Passover was near and the governor, Pontius Pilate, knew full well not to violate the religious customs of the Jews. So they pushed and prodded the prisoners along, as they staggered and stumbled out to the place of the skull.
That’s when, all of a sudden, not even halfway there, Jesus put one foot out in front of other, and stopped. Slowly and precariously, the cross began to sway as His body lurched forward. How often, as a carpenter, He had carried heavy beams of wood. But now, suddenly, His body heaved out of control and slumped to the ground. For a split second, the cross leaned up against Him, then fell, crashing to the ground.
A soldier came alongside and kicked Him. Everything was to go as planned, and this was not part of the plan. With a quick glance at Jesus’ dirty, blood-stained face, and the scarlet rivers that streamed from His brow, he knew it was useless. There was no chance this prisoner would carry his cross anymore.
With a look of impatience, his hand clutching his spear, he studied the crowd for another plan, another man. That’s when he spotted Simon of Cyrene.
Look at chapter 15, verse 21: “And they compelled a passerby, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to carry His cross.”
Simon of Cyrene. So who was he and where did he come from?
He was a God-fearer, a Jew, from northern Libya, not far from the Mediterranean Sea.
What was he doing there? The Bible says he had come to Jerusalem to celebrate Passover, to join in this great celebration of the Jews. It was an annual feast and an important feast, that called all Jews back to Jerusalem to worship, to celebrate and to sacrifice. He came to recall the redemption of God’s holy people and to share in the Passover lamb. For him, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. After all, Cyrene was nine hundred miles away.
And notice that word—compelled. It’s a word that means, “grabbed,” “forced,” “conscripted,” “pressed into service.” Simon was no volunteer. It was a choice that wasn’t his to make.
So there he was, a man from Cyrene, an African civilian, at the wrong place and the wrong time, ignorant of local politics and the might of Rome. If only he had known, he wouldn’t have passed that way or lingered so long. But having no choice, he did as he was told. To refuse meant certain consequences. So he picked up the cross and, with a grunt and a groan, heaved it onto his shoulder.
And what did he hear as he carried that cross? Men were shouting and women were weeping. “Daughters of Jerusalem,” Jesus said, “do not weep for Me; weep for yourselves and for your children.” Those who were once deaf shouted, “He healed my ears!” The blind shouted, “He healed my eyes!” Lepers reached out with flesh made whole. And Pharisees and Sadducees shouted, “He saved others, but He can’t save Himself.”
Still the procession plodded on.
Outside the gate, the grim parade continued for another thirty yards, until, finally, at Golgotha, it ground to a sudden halt. They had come to the place of the skull. Slowly and carefully, Simon laid the cross on the ground.
Even though the Bible takes only one verse to speak of Simon and what he did that fateful day, these words have so much to teach us.
It’s been said that the greatest honor any human could ever have happened when Mary conceived and gave birth to Jesus. And the second greatest honor was that Simon carried His cross.
When he left Cyrene, he had no idea he would play such an important part in history, that he, of all people, would become an unwitting and unwilling participant in this grisly drama.
And sometimes, we too are asked to carry a cross, a calling we would rather not bear. Yet that is precisely what Jesus asks us to do.
As theologian John Stott once put it: “One might say every Christian is both a Barabbas and a Simon of Cyrene. Like Barabbas, we escape the cross, for Jesus died in our place. And like Simon of Cyrene, we carry the cross, for He calls us to take it up and follow Him.”
It was late on a Saturday night, November 28, 1942, and Boston’s Cocoanut Grove was packed. And for good reason. Not only was it Thanksgiving weekend, but the world had been at war for almost a year. It was time to rest and relax.
A huge crowd of people, more than five hundred in number, surged from the dining room on down a narrow stairway to the Melody Lounge. The dimly lit basement bar offered a Casablanca tropical style with artificial palm trees, driftwood and a ceiling draped in blue satin. The only light came from a bulb behind the bar, with a little help from strings of Christmas lights hidden in the palm trees.
But that light behind the bar was just too bright for one young man. So he reached up and unscrewed the bulb, so he could kiss his date in privacy.
Also that night, a doctor by the name of Vincent Senna was having dinner in the Grove, till one of his patients went into labor. Grumbling and just a bit resentful, he rushed to the hospital to deliver the baby.
And it’s a good thing he did, for at about ten minutes after ten that night, a busboy noticed that loose bulb, so he lit a match. Immediately, patrons saw the artificial palm fronds ignite. Within moments, flames raced up the stairway, through a hall to the main clubroom, setting the entire nightclub on fire. When it was over, four hundred and ninety-two people were dead.
And the interruption that ruined Dr. Senna’s evening, would end up saving his life.
So it was for a man named Simon of Cyrene, for as he carried that cross, Jesus’ cross, it was an interruption that saved his life.
Before we leave this text, there is that question. Mark wrote in his gospel account, “And they compelled a passerby, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to carry His cross.”
“Alexander and Rufus,” he said, Simon’s sons. Why did Mark bother to mention them?
I suppose you could say it helped to “flesh out” the story. Simon was a real man with real sons.
But maybe there’s more to it than that. For as Paul would later write to the Romans: “Greet Rufus, chosen in the Lord, and his mother, who has been a mother to me, too.” And Luke wrote in the book of Acts: “Some men from Cyprus and Cyrene went to Antioch and began to speak to Greeks also, telling them the good news about the Lord Jesus. And the Lord’s hand was with them.”
You see, when Simon carried the cross that day, it would save not only his life, but his family’s life as well.
As Jesus said in the book of Luke, “If anyone would come after Me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me.” And He said, “Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow Me cannot be My disciple.”
Heavenly Father, as Your dear Son made His way to Calvary, He accepted the service of Simon of Cyrene. So grant us the grace to bear our cross, for the sake of Him who suffered and died for us, Jesus Christ our Lord. In His name we pray. Amen