STATION 5

SIMON OF CYRENE HELPS CARRY THE CROSS


An agonized man who carried a cross, beaten down, quite broken,
Approached.  His body purple with welts, a guard’s firm token.
In quiet sight Simon eyed this man who had fallen nearby.
The soldiers pushed the man from a woman with tears in each eye.

The proceedings were seen by Simon, with lack of emotion.
It was nothing to him at all, all this Jesus commotion.
Here there were guards now with long whips, their anger on surface.
Simon looked down, hid his eyes, did not want to make any fuss.

To the wall on the street with quick feet went Simon of Cyrene.
He had no desire, though strong was he, to help, then cause a scene.
The man focused forward as guards turned to where Simon hid.
They all laughed as they saw him crouched down on the ground as he did.

Impressed by swords to lift the cross beams, Simon cursed his bad luck.
The soldiers kept him going on as he felt so very stuck.
On shoulder’s strength He shared the load with the man so hurt and bruised.
While lugging he wondered why this man was hurt and thus accused.

The crowd looked away as Simon walked, his back in so much pain
The heavy wood, the hurt man weak, Simon’s spirit began to wane.
But with all their force the guards compelled the both of them onward.
Beside there came another woman, with a cloth and a word.

She wiped Jesus’ face, at this place, then crying she slowly went.
As Simon watched, sweat on his brow, thirsting so much, tired, spent.
 The guards moved them on, as the sun was so high, the sweat trickled down.
They both heaved under pressure of wood as they inched through the town.

Creeping on they went along but then the blood soaked man fell,
Simon went too as they hit the ground, his face began to swell.
He spit out blood, hurt his head, stood when spoken to.
The man stayed down his second time Simon didn’t know what to do.

With might and will Jesus stood and turned to Jerusalem’s women.
He spoke to them of times when there would be tragic sin.
Time when people cared for only one, themselves and not the old and young.
Simon bowed his head as he listened as some women slowly sung.

‘He is just a man with cross to bear,’ which Simon no more believed.
The man whispered soft, “Soon you’ll be relieved.”
Simon cringed because the final act would mean crucifixion.
But there went the man, praying along with such conviction.

The guards heard his words and they pulled on the wood,
The third fall came to both, on faces fallen, they no longer stood.
Laughter at them on the ground, pulsing pain, end almost complete.
‘Stay down,’ thought Simon to the man, but He slowly rose to His feet.

At Golgatha they told Simon go and pushed him out of the way.
As they circled the man, Simon out, tried to begin again his day.
As he turned in dismay he saw a woman near his side.
“Who is that man?” He took her hand, and then he cried.

 The woman turned from cross to Simon with silent wondrous eyes.
So like her Son he knew the one, the man was hers, no surprise.
Her hands came up and touched his face, a warmth he held on to.
“He is our Savior, Jesus Christ, He’ll tell you what to do.”

Unknown to this growing feeling Simon didn’t know what to do.
He touched her hand as she let go he felt God come through.
She knelt on ground beside his feet; he bowed and knelt as she had done.
Simon stayed on his knees as the mother prayed aloud to Son.

Simon closed his eyes and played over the parts of past scene.
Was this the path that led life now to him, Simon of Cyrene?
Was this God the new Messiah come to all with love at His side?
Simon cried beside the woman, tears clouding eyes, as Jesus slowly died.