By His Wounds: The Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Simon of Cyrene Helps Jesus

Simon of Cyrene Helps Jesus

The cross was getting heavier, he saw that. On top of his horse, Abrahm could see the difficulty the Nazarean was having with each step, not as if he wasn't have trouble minutes before. Or hours before.

Yes, he admitted, the Romans had been quite cruel with the Nazarean. Very cruel, if he had to say. But Abrahm was a Roman soldier, too, and he had no right to say how a criminal was or was not treated. He should encourage the beatings, not try to stop them.

But as he watched the bearded man shrug under the weight of his cross, he knew he wouldn't be able to make the almost mile to Golgotha. He'd probably die along the way, and wouldn't that cause a riot. Abrahm didn't want any riots. He just wanted to go home to his wife and daughter. They were expecting him for dinner, and he needed to be there on time. It wouldn't do to be late on his daughter's birthday.

Thinking quickly, Abrahm spotted a specific man out of the corner of his eye. He didn't really stand out, the man. He was just the first one Abrahm spotted. And the male scurrying past all the weeping women and shouting others, while him mute, did kind of make him a target.

"Hey, you!" Abrahm shouted, pulling his horse to a halt and pointing his finger at the man.

The man stopped, hestitantly, and just stood there, as if he was unsure whether to listen to the soldier atop a horse or flee. Abrahm most likely wouldn't be able to stop him if he ran through the crowd and through the alleys.

Luckily, the man turned.

"What's your name?"

He said, "Simon. Simon of Cyrene."

"Well, Simon, this criminal here"—he jestered towards the Nazarean, who was barely standing with the cross flung over his back—"can no longer carry his cross by himself. Help him."

"What?" Simon sounded sincerely baffled at Abrahm's request. "Me? No. Find someone else to help him. I want nothing to do with this criminal."

"I said help him!" Abrahm shouted. He got angry easily, and Abrahm was not about to be tested on his daughter's birthday. The man just needed to carry the cross so the criminal could be crucified, and he could go home.

"No!"

And with that, Abrahm snapped his fingers, signaling for another Roman soldier to come hold his horse. He hopped off, landing on the ground with a thump and then stalked over to this Simon who thought he was better than him.

As Abrahm towered over this small man, he glared. Simon cowered, the crowd ranting around them and that one annoying criminal of the three shouting out curses.

Within five seconds, Simon said, "All right!"

Satisfied, Abrahm turned on his heel and climbed back on his horse, ready to proceed, but Simon continued speaking.

"But listen! I am an innocent man, forced to carry a criminal's cross. I am not a criminal! I have committed no crime. Therefore, I shall only help this man and that is it."

Abrahm snorted, then clucked to his gelding and began trotting towards Golgotha, where those three criminals would finally be dead and he could go home.