Envying Simon

Last night I watched The Passion of the Christ for the first time. My friend Christy was seeing it for the third time, and she told us that each time she watches the film, something new grabs her attention. I imagine this is true for anyone who has seen The Passion multiple times. On this first viewing, one man stood out to me more than any other: Simon of Cyrene.

Simon was called out of the crowd to help Jesus, already badly beaten and exhausted, carry the cross on which he would die. The movie portrayed Simon and Jesus walking side by side, bearing the weight of the cross together. At times, Jesus clung to Simon for support. As they neared Golgotha, even Simon was stumbling. There were a few moments in which Jesus and Simon locked eyes -- these were the moments that captivated me. No one could ever truly know the depth of Jesus' suffering on that day, none could imagine the weight of the burden he bore on his bloodied back. However, if there was one man who knew even a hint of that inconceivable pain, it was Simon. In the instances when their eyes met, I saw an intimacy with Jesus that made me covet Simon's position.

Paul speaks of a longing for that kind of cross-bearing fellowship with Christ:
"For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him... that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead." Philippians 3:8-10

Paul understood that in order to know Christ in life one must know him in his death. His ardent desire for this knowledge should not strike us as extreme or fanatical - he was merely heeding the words of the Savior:
"'If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.'" Luke 9:23-24

I doubt that Simon ever forgot the feeling of the rough wood, the splinters on his arms, the heaviness on his shoulders, the burning in his legs as he climbed the hill, the blood that stained his robe as Jesus brushed against him. Most of us will never be afforded such a tangible experience of Christ's sufferings. I am certain, though, that not a day goes by when we are not given a chance to deny ourselves, to experience a taste of earthly loss, pain, or struggle.

May anything that is lost be a reminder of all that He sacrificed.
May any pain we feel speak to us of the brutal death He suffered for our sake.
May our struggles give us opportunity to emulate a Son who desperately pleaded with his Father, and ultimately accepted his will.

May the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus cause us to count all else as worthless.
May we share his sufferings, become like him in his death, and know the power of his resurrection.