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Commentary Index | Return to PrayerRequest.com | DownloadGreater Men and Women of the Bible by James Hastings: 578. Simon of Cyrene
Subjects in this Topic:
Literature
Benson, R. M., The Final Passover, iii. pt. II. (1893) 187.
Cameron, A. B., From the Garden to the Cross (1896), 302.
Carter, T. T., Meditations on the Suffering Life and the Glorified Life of Our Lord (1875), 104.
Clow, W. M., The Day of the Cross (1909), 157.
Critchley, G., When the Angels have gone Away (1899), 101.
Cunningham, R. T., Memorials (ed. D. Miller, 1890), 162.
Davies, D., Talks with Men, Women and Children, ii. (1890) 59.
Huntington, F. D., Christian Believing and Living (1885), 246.
Mackintosh, H. R., Life on God's Plan (1909), 242.
Maclaren, A., A Year's Ministry, ii. (1888) 45.
Macmillan, H., The Mystery of Grace (1893), 48.
Peabody, F. G., Mornings in the College Chapel, i. (1896) 168.
Speirs, E. B., A Present Advent (1900), 192.
Stalker, J., The Trial and Death of Jesus Christ (1894), 133.
Vaughan, J., Sermons (Brighton Pulpit), xv. (1877), No. 1048.
Christian Age, xliii. (1893) 194 (F. D. Huntington).
Christian World Pulpit, lxxvii. (1910) 140 (J. H. Renshaw).
Churchman's Pulpit: Holy Week, vi. 363 (G. T. Shettle).
And as they came out, they found a man of Cyrene, Simon by name: him they compelled to go with them, that he might bear his cross.- Mat_27:32.
And when they led him away, they laid hold upon one Simon of Cyrene, coming from the country, and laid on him the cross, to bear it after Jesus.- Luk_23:26.
1. Some men are born to distinction. They inherit an honoured name, a name which has been associated for generations past with dignity and power; they step at once into a position prepared for them, where they are set on an eminence and are observed by all. Whatever their characters may be, their position renders them conspicuous. Other men win distinction. There is nothing remarkable about them to begin with; they are merely units in the multitude of men and women. But by and by they show that they have qualities of an uncommon stamp; by their character or genius they force the attention of their fellow-beings, and at last rise to distinction and fame.
There is another class still, considerably smaller perhaps than either of these two, but still a class that does exist. It is composed of people who have honours thrust upon them, without any effort or even desire upon their part. They are often unwilling to accept them, and feel them a burden rather than a pleasure. Occasionally, for instance, we meet with people who have suddenly come into possession of great wealth, and have been lifted out of a humble station into a life of ease that is strange to them. Especially if they are old people, they often feel in their inmost hearts a regret for the old, accustomed, obscure life which they have lost. This perhaps is a rare phenomenon, but it is not entirely unknown. Simon the Cyrenian belonged to the last class. He was forced to become a distinguished man in spite of himself. He little thought, as he walked into Jerusalem that morning, that he was to carry a cross before the day was over. Had Simon suspected anything of the kind, he would probably have stayed at home. Cross-bearing was a path to distinction which he had no ambition to tread. And yet Simon became a famous man that day.
Out of strange quarries delved by angel-hand, rough-hewn from ruins of primeval sin, topstone of nature still God's masterpiece, wondrous material for self-sacrifice: designed by perfect love for perfect life, guided along his way, sometimes in sanctuary, sometimes on sea: moulded by marvel of God's providence, in passionate devotion holding fast to Earth's Redeemer, the Atoning Christ: circled by Sacramental grace, at the inspiring meetingpoint of human and Divine coincidence: ushered in by destiny, and breathless with expectancy, cometh the man. Who, think you, would of his free will have gone to Libyan Cyrene to find God's man to bear the Cross for Christ when nature failed?1 [Note: A. Daintree, Studies in Hope, 91.]
2. A brief verse from each of the Synoptists is all we have regarding Simon. Yet each is not just the echo of the others. Each puts the incident in his own way; and so we find, as might be expected, a touch supplied by one which is not given by the others. Thus we are helped to a complete picture in our own minds. We see the melancholy procession on its way from the Prætorium to Calvary. Jesus is in its midst. Accompanying Him are the two thieves, bound for the same tragic end. The soldiers are there in strong force, with their centurion at their head, charged with the safeguarding of the prisoners and the carrying out of the sentence of crucifixion. And the mixed multitude are there, priests, rulers, people of all classes and conditions, enlivening the way with their brutal pleasantries. Onward the procession moves through street after street, bringing people forth from their houses to inquire what it all means, and to add to Jesus' reviling foes or to His few silent friends, according as the sight happens to touch them. At length it reaches the gate of the city, and makes for the hill in the open country beyond the walls, where ceremonial defilement from malefactors dying was supposed no longer to be feared.
The malefactor who was to be crucified had to carry the cross from the hall of judgment to the place of execution. Jesus had begun to carry the cross according to this custom, but He now gave way beneath its weight. The terrible physical suffering which He had endured had worn all His strength away, so that now He sinks to the ground exhausted, and nigh fainting, the cross pressing Him to the earth-“a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.” The soldiers are in a dilemma. It is evident that Jesus must get assistance, He can go on no longer. The crowd presses round Him, gazing at Him with, on the whole, little if any more pity than a crowd bestows on a horse that has fallen on the street. What is to be done? The soldiers will certainly not lower themselves by helping a criminal to carry His cross. The Jews will do nothing to assist; they would flout the idea of touching that accursed piece of wood, the symbol of the Roman despotism which they hate. The soldiers look around for someone who will serve their purpose, but they see no one. The Jews about them have friends in Jerusalem: it would be dangerous to rouse a Jewish mob by forcing anyone there to undertake the hateful task. Too much blood has been shed of late in these very streets, collisions between the soldiers and the people, which they are careful to avoid. They are almost at their wits' end. But just at this moment they catch sight of Simon.
He is on his way into the city, rejoicing as he comes near the gate at the prospect of ending a long journey, and of being in time to join in the Passover celebrations. He is on pilgrimage to the Holy City, and a crowd of high and sacred feelings are filling him. He is coming up to observe the most sacred of Jewish feasts. And here is the Divine Paschal Lamb coming forth to meet him, on His way to be slain on Calvary. Could he ever have hoped to see such a sight? Could it be supposed that one looking as he was for the consolation of Israel would see at once in that most melancholy sight the fulfilment of his grandest hopes? Jesus bending and ready to fall under His heavy cross, and going to die upon it-could this be the consolation and the glory of Israel? Could He be the long-looked-for Messiah? Or was it true that the Paschal Lamb, associated with the great deliverance from Egypt's bondage, slain, roasted, eaten, was after all but the type of the true Messiah, and that Simon, coming to observe the type, was to find in that cross-bearing Jesus on His way to Calvary the veritable antitype? It was even so, as Simon, we have reason to believe, soon came to know.
The Cross gives us Ormuzd and Ahriman, not in cloudy epic, but in actual history; goodness fighting evil, not with earthly weapons, but spiritual; fighting, by suffering, by giving, by loving, by dying. And you, in your turn, get the heart of this by trying it, by living it. You find what loving is by loving, what forgiveness is by forgiving, what the Cross of Calvary is by the cross in your own soul. You become an initiate of Christianity by the Christian experience, and by that alone.
Though Christ in Joseph's town
A thousand times were born,
Till He is born in thee
Thy soul is still forlorn.
The Cross on Golgotha
Can never save thy soul;
The cross in thine own heart
Alone can make thee whole.
It is here, in the cross of holy, sacrificing love in God, in the cross of holy sacrificing love in your own soul, that you reach the world's deepest secret, that you find the heart of things.1 [Note: J. Brierley, Faith's Certainties, 59.]
God draws a cloud over each gleaming morn.
Wouldst thou ask, why?
It is because all noblest things are born
In agony.
Only upon some Cross of pain or woe
God's Son may lie.
Each soul redeemed from self and sin must know
Its Calvary.2 [Note: Frances Power Cobbe.]
Let us look first at Simon's opportunity, how it came and how he received it, and then at his great gain.