When the two single beams were lifted from the Lord’s bleeding shoulders and laid on those of the sturdy Cyrenian, Simon became what none ever had been, or ever would be, in all the history of the Lord’s Passion—he became for a brief space the substitute of Jesus! Simon came into Jerusalem that morning, from the village home where he had been a guest, unconscious of the tragedy enacted there during the night, and was soon caught in the throng accompanying Jesus to Calvary.

Through the dense excited mass of life, this heavily-built countryman forced his insistent body till he came to the edge of the procession. From this vantage point he could peer in and get sight of Jesus—could catch the weariness of His face.

Was it the merest accident that Simon was taken into the heart of the tragedy? The guard looked round and saw Simon—his prominence and bulk—perhaps an unconscious sympathy growing on his face—and before Simon knew what had happened he had been dragged out from among the people and the cross was on his shoulders, and he was walking beside Jesus to Calvary.

O good fortune of the Cyrenian to have a stout body—to be born a countryman—to carry a kindly heart! It had won him an honor denied to kings and conquerors.

And none so favored as this Cyrenian, for they journeyed together within an iron wall—no man could interrupt or annoy—neither priest nor people; they were so close together that the cross seemed to be on them both. That Jesus spoke to Simon as He did to few in all His ministry, there can be little doubt, since no one could render Jesus the slightest service without being instantly repaid, and this man had succored Him in His dire extremity.

What Jesus said to His substitute, Simon never told. But one thing is certain: in the heart of the tragedy on the way to Calvary, Simon met Jesus. And with what kindness Jesus must have spoken to His cross-bearer as they went forward together under one cross—one common disgrace! Alone with the Redeemer one gathers precious treasure!

For a short while this man carried the load of wood. In return, Jesus carried his sin and that of his children after him; for by the time this Gospel was given unto the world, Simon was known as the head of a distinguished Christian house—a man honored in his sons, Alexander and Rufus.

Nothing save . . . a few drops of blood on the ground remained of the great tragedy as Simon journeyed homeward that evening; but, in the meantime, Jesus had accomplished the deliverance of the world—and Simon, the Cyrenian, had carried the Lord’s cross!

What a privilege! Taken from the throng to carry another’s cross—Via Dolorosa with Jesus! JOHN WATSON

The Changed Cross” is a poem that tells of a weary woman who thought that the cross she must bear surely was heavier than those of other people, so she wished she could choose another person’s instead.

When she went to sleep, she dreamed she was taken to a place where there were many different crosses from which to choose.

There were various shapes and sizes, but the most beautiful one was covered with jewels and gold.

“This I could wear with comfort,” she said.

So she picked it up, but her weak body staggered beneath its weight.

The jewels and gold were beautiful, yet they were much too heavy for her to carry.

The next cross she noticed was quite lovely, with beautiful flowers entwined around its sculptured form.

Surely this was the one for her.

She lifted it, but beneath the flowers were large thorns that pierced and tore her skin.

Finally she came to a plain cross without jewels or any carvings and with only a few words of love inscribed on it.

When she picked it up, it proved to be better than all the rest, and the easiest to carry.

And as she looked at it, she noticed it was bathed in a radiance that fell from heaven.

Then she recognized it as her own old cross.

She had found it once again, and it was the best of all, and the lightest for her.

You see, God knows best what cross we need to bear, and we never know how heavy someone else’s cross may be.

We envy someone who is rich, with a cross of gold adorned with jewels, but we do not know how heavy it is.

We look at someone whose life seems so easy and who carries a cross covered with flowers.

Yet if we could actually test all the crosses we think are lighter than ours, we would never find one better suited for us than our own.

GLIMPSES THROUGH LIFE’S WINDOWS

If you, with impatience, give up your cross, You will not find it in this world again; Nor in another, but here and here alone Is given for you to suffer for God’s sake.

In the next world we may more perfectly Love Him and serve Him, praise Him, Grow nearer and nearer to Him with delight.

But then we will not anymore Be called to suffer, which is our assignment here.

Can you not suffer, then, one hour or two?

If He should call you from your cross today, Saying, “It is finished—that hard cross of yours From which you pray for deliverance,”

Do you not think that some emotion of regret Would overcome you?

You would say, “So soon? Let me go back and suffer yet awhile More patiently.

I have not yet praised God.”

So whenever it comes, that summons we all look for, It will seem soon, too soon.

Let us take heed in life That God may now be glorified in us.

“SERMON IN A HOSPITAL” BY UGO BASSI’S

They took Jesus, and led him away. And he bearing his cross went forth into a place called the place of a skull, which is called in the Hebrew Golgotha: where they crucified him.—The bodies of those beasts, whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high priest for sin, are burned without the camp. Wherefore Jesus also, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, suffered without the gate. Let us go forth therefore unto him without the camp, bearing his reproach.—The fellowship of his sufferings.

Rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings: that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy.—Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.

It is a night to be much observed unto the Lord for bringing them out from the land of Egypt.

The Lord Jesus the same night in which he was betrayed took bread: and when he had given thanks, he brake it, and said, Take, eat: this is my body which is broken for you: this do in remembrance of me. After the same manner also he took the cup, when he had supped, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood: this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me.

He . . . kneeled down, and prayed. And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.

It was the preparation of the passover, and about the sixth hour: . . . they took Jesus, and led him away, . . . into a place called . . . Golgotha: where they crucified him.

Christ our passover is sacrificed for us: therefore let us keep the feast.