We know very little about this Simon. We know he is from Cyrene located in Africa in the modern Libya. There was a large Jewish community there. This Simon was the father of Alexander and Rufus. Resources believe Alexander and Rufus were known by the early church. It is possible Simon was in Jerusalem for the Passover. Below is his story written as I believe he would tell it. Please note Simon witnesses some very violent acts. They will be very difficult to write.
Simon’s Story
My grandparents moved to Cyrene while they were still young. They were hoping for a better life in Cyrene for their family. They were one of many Jewish families to settle in Cyrene. My parents met and fell in love immediately. They had me along with two brothers and a sister. I grew up knowing the Jewish customs and studying Jewish law. I had grown up always hoping I could travel to Jerusalem and celebrate the Jewish Passover. The Passover is a Jewish holiday where they celebrate God passing over their house when He saw the blood on their door posts. It was when the Jews were still in Egypt as slaves hundreds of years ago. You can read about this in the book of Exodus written by Moses.
This year I finally get the chance to travel all the way to Jerusalem. I am taking my wife Miriam. We do not have children yet so it will be best to go this year. We were able to send word to relatives in Jerusalem and one of them said we could stay with them for the time we would be there. We were planning to stay almost two weeks. We arrived on Friday a week before the Passover so we would have plenty of time to visit all our cousins from both my family and my wife’s family. It is going to be great.
When we first got to my cousin’s house we got settled and my cousin started telling me about this guy named Jesus. He had become quite the famous guy. My cousin said this Jesus had healed many people and did other miracles. He must be some prophet from God to be able to do those kinds of things. I hope to get a glimpse of Jesus while I am here or even meet him.
The first day of the week we headed towards the East gate to get a look at the temple. There was a large crowd heading that way. Suddenly, the crowd opened up the road and took off their robes or cut branches from palm trees and laid them on the road. Was an important figure coming down that road? The crowd started shouting “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord”! Could it be this Jesus my cousin keeps talking about? Why is this person riding on a donkey’s colt? Why not a stallion like a king or commander in the army? Such a humble way to enter the city yet the people seemed to think this Jesus was a great man. Someone in the crowd said the man on the colt was in fact Jesus. As he rode past me, he looked at me. Suddenly, he looked very sad when he saw my face. I wonder why he looked that way at me and none of the other people around me? That look stayed with me all week although I did not see Jesus again until early Friday morning.
My cousin said Jesus was hated by the Jewish leaders because he had many followers and they thought Jesus was going to have the people rebel against them. My cousin told me he heard Jesus was taken captured and was to be put on trial. This was right after we had our Passover meal. My cousin said get some sleep because we were going to attend the trial set to start at sun up the next day. My cousin woke me and said to hurry. What was going on? I had just fallen asleep. My cousin said Jesus was at the high priest’s house being questioned. What? I thought the trail would be in the morning. I kissed my wife and said I would see her later. I was curious what this Jesus had done to be treated like this in the middle of the night.
My cousin and I stood in the high priest’s courtyard. There were many people there, but we could see and hear what was going on as Jesus was being questioned on the porch. Jesus was being questioned about his disciples and teaching. Jesus replied “Everyone knows what I teach. I have preached regularly in the synagogues and the Temple, where the people gather. I have not spoken in secret. Why are you asking me this question? Ask those who heard me. They know what I said.” Then one of them slapped Jesus and said “Is that the way to answer the high priest?” Jesus replied “If I said anything wrong, you must prove it. But if I’m speaking the truth, why are you beating me?” They questioned Jesus all night, but I still could not find anything he had done wrong. Just before dawn they sent Jesus to the Roman governor’s house. The governor came out wanting to know what Jesus did to come before him. The governor said to take him back and judge Jesus by their own laws, but the Jewish leaders pushed forward saying they had no laws to execute him. Pilate, the Roman governor, said to Jesus “Are you the king of the Jews?” Jesus’ only answer was “You have said it.” The chief priests and leaders kept accusing Jesus of different crimes, but he just stood there. I was so amazed at this man. He was so humble and seemed so defenseless yet very powerful at the same time.
My cousin said it was the governor’s custom to release one prisoner over Passover, anyone the people wanted. I was hoping they would release Jesus because it was clear to me this man did nothing wrong. Yet, while I was thinking this, I heard the crowd ask to release Barabbas instead of Jesus. I was shocked. Barabbas was a murderer. Then I heard Pilate ask “Then what should I do with this man you call the king of the Jews?” The crowd grew louder prompted by the religious leaders, they shouted “Crucify him!”. My heart stopped. Why did they hate Jesus so much? I heard Pilate ask what crime had Jesus committed but the crowd grew louder shouting again to crucify Jesus.
Barabbas was released and Jesus was taken to an area where he was chained to a post and whipped thirty-nine times with a lead-tipped whip. As terrible as it was to watch more torture was coming. When they were done whipping Jesus, his back was torn open and bleeding in many places. Then the Roman soldiers took charge of Jesus. We followed as the soldiers to Jesus to the courtyard of the governor’s headquarters. There they stripped Jesus and placed a purple robe on him. Purple is the color of royalty. Someone fashioned a crown of thorns and they placed it on Jesus’ head. I could see the back of the purple robe turning red with Jesus’ blood and blood flowing down over his face and hair from the crown of thorns. Jesus said not a word, but I wanted to shout “Enough!” but I was so afraid! Oh, the shame of that fear. Yet the torture continued, not physically, but the mental torture. They pretended to worship Jesus shouting ‘Hail! King of the Jews” Some bowed down while others took reeds and beat him on his head. Still others spit in Jesus’ face. Jesus just stood there. He endured it all yet there was more to come. They took off the purple robe and cast it aside. Then they put Jesus’ clothes back on him. Two of the soldiers picked up a very heavy cross and put it on Jesus’ shoulders. Finally, the whole regiment led Jesus through the streets of Jerusalem.
Somehow my cousin and I managed to follow very close to Jesus. I watched as every step Jesus took was a huge effort. Jesus stumbled several times under the weight of the heavy cross yet he did not cry out in pain. One more step and Jesus fell to the ground. I looked in horror as the soldiers pointed at me and said “you carry his cross”. Oh, I was willing and able, but I surely did not want to carry this man’s cross. Jesus had suffered enough, why did he have to hang on a cross too? While I was thinking this one of the soldiers drew a sword and pointed at me. I ran to Jesus and lifted the heavy cross of his shoulders onto mine. It was far heavier than it looked. Jesus looked at me with such great love. If he only knew me, he would not love me. Yet somehow, I felt this love and more than that I realized Jesus was, as my cousin said, the Son of God.
Humbled I dragged Jesus’ cross behind him all the way up the hill called Golgotha. It really did look like a skull from a distance. There were two others getting ready to be hung on the cross. They were hard looking men, looking like they did not care they would soon be dying of the most horrible way to die known to man.
The soldiers took the cross off my shoulders and placed it on the ground. Cursing myself over my renewed fear I hurried to the crowd waiting to watch the crucifixion. Blood thirsty people! I noticed a small crowd towards the back who were weeping. I made me way to them and stood near them to watch. These were Jesus’ friends; I did not want to be included but I still wanted to be near the people who were the closest to Jesus. They seemed to welcome me. We all turned to watch what happened next.
I watched with horror as the soldiers laid the cross on the ground and dug long skinny nails, spikes really, near the cross. Typically, the accused is tied to the cross before they placed the cross upright. A couple of the soldiers took Jesus’ clothes. I saw them cast dice to see who would get each article of clothing. Next, they laid Jesus on the cross and nailed his hands to the cross. No, I wanted to scream, no! Yet they continued to nail Jesus’ feet to the bottom of the cross. Then they lifted the cross and dropped it into the hole. I started crying. Why is Jesus allowing this to happen? I could not understand it. My crying turned to weeping. I could not see through my tears. I must have shouted “Why?” out loud. One of the men, I later learned his name was John, left the group and came over and stood next to me. He said two things to me: “it’s because he loves us and not to loss hope because he will rise again.” I stopped weeping and just stood there wondering. Why would this Jesus die because he loved me? I am not worthy of his love, yet somehow I knew he was dying because of the sins of all people. How wonderful, yet I could not wonder if there was no other way? Then I remembered the sacrifices at the temple offered every day. These only covered our sins temporarily, Jesus’ sacrifice is a once and for all. No more animal sacrifices would be needed. I looked upon Jesus’ tortured face with thanksgiving. He looked back at me with such great love I suddenly knew I was forgiven.
My life was changed! I continued to watch as Jesus was struggling for breath. How long could he hang there suffering so much? The sky grew dark and it was hard to see. The ground began to shake, and I felt myself fall to the ground. Still, I watched. I finally heard Jesus cry out “it is finished”. It looked like he drew his last breath, and his body went limp. I started to cry again but then I remember the second thing John said to me. Jesus will rise again. Yes, I believe in the resurrection of the dead, but the way John said it, it seemed like it would happen soon. I saw a couple of men ask to take Jesus’ body for burial and they carefully wrapped his body and carried it away on a stretcher. John was carefully leading a group away, particularly an older woman who seem to take Jesus’ death the worse. I wondered if this was Jesus’ mother. I asked John if I could join them for a moment as I had a question about Jesus’ resurrection. John quickly told me Jesus said it would be in three days. I suddenly remembered it was the Sabbath and that I had a wife wondering what happened to me. I said goodbye and hurried back to my cousin’s house.
My cousin had been home for three hours. He did not go to the crucifixion. He saw me carrying the cross but he got lost in the crowd. He finally lost hope and returned home thinking I would return also. I told everyone there everything that happened. I said I truly believed Jesus was the Son of God and his sacrifice was for the sins of everyone. I also told them what John said about Jesus rising from the dead on the third day. I could tell some did not believe, but my wife said she believed me.
On Sunday around noon I went to the tomb where I heard they had buried Jesus. I was surprised to see it was open. There was a huge stone laying near the tomb. I looked inside wondering why it was not sealed yet hoping Jesus had indeed risen from the dead. There were the linens used to cover Jesus but he was not there. I wandered around until I found someone who told me they were saying Jesus’ disciples stolen the body during the night. I could not believe it as the stone was huge and sealed to the tomb. There was no way any humans could open the tomb, especially since it was being guarded. As I started back to my cousin’s house, I saw a familiar face. It was John. He said to come with him.
We went up to a room and there was a group of men and a few women there. There faces shown with happiness as they talked about how they had seen Jesus, alive. Suddenly, Jesus stood among them. He said to Thomas to come touch his hands and see where they had put a sword in his chest to make sure Jesus was dead. I saw Thomas face go from doubting to elation. He was touching real flesh. Jesus looked at me a smiled. I knew from that moment on I would live to tell Jesus’ story of how he saved the world.
We needed to return to Cyrene a few days later. I asked John to write to me any news. All the way home I shared my story of carrying the cross for the savior of the world. Many believed because of my testimony. A few months later John wrote and said Jesus had returned to heaven. He said Jesus was coming back. I cannot wait!
Discussion
I started this story a year ago in May. As Easter nears, I felt led to finally finish it. There are the four Gospel accounts of the death and resurrection of Jesus. There are secular evidence too the Jesus’ death and over five hundred witnesses to his appearance after he rose from the dead. Jesus’ death was no accident. He died to restore our relationship with him. Jesus offers salvation to any who believe in him. Are you going to believe Simon’s story, or do you think he made it up?
A powerful story. Thank you for sharing.