The Fourth Station: Simon Helps Jesus Carry His Cross

 

"A man named Simon of Cyrene was coming in from the fields, and they pressed him into service to carry the Cross."

 

The third time he fell, the cross was laid on a passerby for a while.  He couldn't get up by himself, so Simon of Cyrene had to help him get up.  Simon just happened to be coming into the city.  He was a stranger, pressed into service.  He hadn't come here looking to help.  We don't know whether he did it willingly.  Chances are he didn't.  He just wanted to get home, after a hard day of work - take a shower, get a bite to eat, read about what was happening in the newspaper.  He  didn't want to be IN the news.  Yet we know about what he did.  We even have his name, "Simon, of Cyrene."  Which means that someone bothered to ask him, bothered to remember.  It may be that he became a disciple, later on.  Sometimes, being called on - even for something we don't want to do - becomes for us a life-changing experience.

 

      Many times, we get help from people we don't even know - someone just passing by.  How many times are we asked to help, and we give it reluctantly?  How many times do we have a chance to make a difference, and we pass - we refuse to help.

 

      We all need help to get up occasionally.  Help to get up, and to get going again.  For a while, we may need help in carrying our cross.  Some passerby.  Some angel - the word simply means, "messenger" - some voice that speaks to us in grace, in love - one that is willing to shoulder the cross for us for a bit while we rest up. 

 

      I keep thinking about Hurricane Floyd.  For a week we stayed in the home of a family in this church.  When we went there, we had just spent two days moving furniture upstairs, and watching as the flood waters rose, inch by inch, threatening to overtake us.  It was two days without sleep.  When the boat finally came and took us off of our front porch, we were exhausted.  We had our car parked up where it wasn’t in danger of the flood, so we were able to go down toward Maysville, and back along Catfish Landing Road.  But back there, we hit a steel plate across a channel, and it blew a tire.  I was so tired, I couldn’t even remember where my spare tire was; but a stranger – a fellow from Tennessee who had come to help out, helped me change my tire so I could go on.  Driving to our friend’s house, we stopped to get some coffee and a mini-mart.  I came up to the counter to pay the cashier.  He asked an innocent question, “How are you today?”  It all came out in a gush – the rising water, the uncertainty of not knowing whether we would have a house to come back to, the two days without sleep, and even the tire on the car.  I couldn’t hold back the tears.  I’m sure he was glad to see me go.

 

      A week later, once everything had dried out a bit, a bunch of people from this congregation showed up at our door with tools in hand.  They crawled under the house with me to remove insulation and ductwork, and to repair damage to the joyces.  Others cleaned up debris, took down trees and repaired the porch.  I don’t know what we would have done without them.  We all need help when we are down.

 

      God gives us another chance.  He allows us to get up and get going again.  He gives us angels, "messengers" of grace and love to help us bear our cross.  He gives us permission to leave our burden with him, or to share it with another.  We are, after all, all in this together.  We do not walk alone.  But we do need to be willing to help one another bear our crosses.

 

      Easier said than done.  But do it we must, if we are to walk with Jesus.

 

      We take our stand with Jesus.  We want to walk with him, walk all the way - all the way to Calvary.