Being from Cyrene, Simon and his family must have travelled over 1,000 miles to get to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover feast. Whether Jewish by birth or conversion, their dedication was unmistakable. Whether they had brought their own lamb, or purchased one along the way, they would have been ready to fulfill all that was required of them by ritual.
That morning, Simon would have woken up early, as usual, for his time of prayer. And then off to continue the preparations. Maybe he brought his sons with him, eager to train them in this sacred ritual. Whatever the original destination, Simon’s life was forever changed by an interruption along the way.
Crowds were gathered along the road, chanting, jeering: a prisoner was being led out for execution. Perhaps Simon stopped to look, or stepped out just a little to try to get where he was going. Whatever it was, it was enough for the guards to notice him. And when the prisoner fell, defeated by the weight of his own cross after enduring a night of beatings, Simon was forcibly enlisted to take over the job.
One look at the prisoner was enough motivation to keep his mouth shut. Bloodied and grotesque, he was a walking example of what the Roman law-enforcement was capable of. So, Simon lifted the rough and heavy cross to carry it the rest of the way. The prisoner’s blood soaked into Simon’s own shoulder and smeared across his cheek. The weight of someone else’s consequences weighed down on him. And as Simon walked next to the prisoner, he caught determination on the man’s battered face; compassion in his swollen eyes; forgiveness on his dry, and chapped lips. Simon realised quickly that this was no ordinary man.
Legend has it that Simon and his family became key members in the early church; his sons Alexander and Rufus became missionaries, their mother an active supporter of Paul. Rom 16:13 says “Greet Rufus, chosen in the Lord; also his mother, who has been a mother to me as well.” Just one encounter with Jesus, and their whole lives redirected. And what about us? Have we allowed the weight of Jesus’ love for us rest on our shoulders? And what redirection are we open to in response to that love?
