Simon had hoped that the sun would not rise the following morning, but it did. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he had wept so deeply, not even the time when his beloved parents had died. The pain he felt in his core being was so intense it had caused him to vomit several times. His mouth was dry and foul tasting. The fear he had felt at the trial of Jesus had been replaced by a deep inner revulsion.
What kind of a man was he? Hadn’t Jesus said that the greatest love anyone could offer another was to give their life in their stead? But he had only sought to preserve his own life. Like the person in Jesus’ teaching, he had valued his present earthly life more and now…now he had lost it…everything he had longed for…everything he had hoped for. He had given it up in a moment of weakness. Like Esau he felt like he sold his birth right for a bowl of soup.
What was he to do? He had denounced Jesus…he had emphatically stated three times that he was not his disciple. Then what was he now? He felt he did not know himself anymore…the person he thought he was had vanished. He was like an empty cloud that looked so promising, but in the end did not deliver anything. How would he ever face the others? How would he face his brother? How would his face his wife? Would not every one of the vows he had ever made be called into question now? He had broken his word…broken his promise.
Would that the crowd had ripped him apart last night…then he would not have to live with his failure…with his shame…with his lowness…cowardice. The scene before the coal fire was indelibly burned in his memory. Was forgiveness even possible for one who had denied his friend…his master…his lord?
From his hiding place he could see most of the city and the surrounding area. Because of the stone walls, the sounds of Jerusalem were unavoidable. He heard every voice…every awful word of the blood thirsty crowd and those who egged them on…the chief priests and the other leaders. But who was he to judge them? They did what was natural for them…he had done what was unnatural. Was he then not worse than they?
He could hear them drag Jesus off to the governor, that awful man Pontius Pilate who had proved himself to be vicious and cruel. It was so early in the morning…Pilate was no doubt already in a foul mood. Simon heard the leaders accusing Jesus before him…that he had claimed to be the Messiah…a king. Pilate then asked Jesus directly if he was the king of the Jews. Jesus did not deny it.
“Even now, Jesus?” Simon wondered. “Even now when you face certain death you maintain that you are our king? The dogs have tasted blood, Jesus…they will not let you go now until they tear the flesh off your body.”
It seemed Pilate did not wish to deal with the matter. He pronounced Jesus to be without fault. This simply caused the leaders to become more insistent. They claimed Jesus was instigating riots wherever he went, from Galilee to Jerusalem. When Pilate heard that Jesus was a Galilean he had him taken to Herod Antipas who happened to be in Jerusalem for the feast.
Simon could barely see the crowd hustling Jesus along to Herod’s palace and once they were inside, he heard nothing…nothing but raucous laughter emanating from the palace every now and again. What was the fox doing? He must be mocking him. The Herods never did deal kindly with anyone who claimed to be king of the Jews. But then Simon heard them dragging Jesus through the narrow streets back to Pilate.
Pilate once again attempted to dismiss the charges against Jesus claiming that neither he nor Herod found any wrongdoing in him. He sentenced him to be flogged and then released.
At this the crowd erupted with a diabolical howl.
“What?” Simon couldn’t believe his ears. “They are demanding the release of that insurrectionist…that murderer! Barabbas. Surely Pilate will not allow that? Even he seemed to be at a loss as to why they wanted to kill Jesus.”
But the leaders pressed hard, even accusing Pilate of political unfaithfulness…that if he released Jesus, he would be disloyal to Caesar. Pilate tried to appeal to the crowd, but then Simon heard them cry out something so shocking that he doubted his ears. “We have no king but Caesar! Crucify him!”
Pilate then appealed to them using a visible sign…the sign of washing blood guilt from his hands. Perhaps he hoped they would understand their own law…that Jesus’ blood would be required from their hands.
But the crowd yelled back, “His blood be upon us and our children forever!”
“He has no choice now. Pilate is like me,” Simon thought. “He will do whatever he needs to do to save his own life.”
And he was right. Pilate turned Jesus over to them to do whatever they wanted.
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A cry of horror escaped from Simon’s lips when he saw Jesus stumbling under the weight of the heavy cross beam. He hardly looked human. They had flogged him mercilessly with a roman whip that had ripped off his skin. There was a plaited crown of thorns on his head and raw patches on his face where his beard had once been. They had abused him almost beyond recognition! Simon was heaving, dry retching, as there was no more food left in his stomach. He wept until he felt he could no longer breathe. Oh, the horror…the horror of it all. He had never thought it could possibly end like this.
Then he saw Judas in the crowd…wild, screaming and pulling at his hair. Judas…the one who had put this all in motion. But Simon could not bring himself to hate him. His greed had proved to be as powerful as Simon’s fear. They had both in their respective ways betrayed Jesus. Judas fought against the crowd…he moved in the direction of the Temple. He had to live with his irreversible error…Simon almost pitied him.
In spite of the agony that he must have been experiencing, Jesus still stopped to address the women…the very ones who always suffered for the prideful actions of their menfolk. The days were coming, Jesus told them, when the decisions of their leaders would bring unimaginable suffering on them all.
They took Jesus and two other men outside the city walls to a hill nearby. The soldiers had made another man carry the beam when it became evident that Jesus was no longer physically able to carry it himself. Simon watched them as they stripped Jesus of his clothing. His body was so bloodied he resembled a freshly slaughtered lamb. Lamb! Simon could hear the priests slaughtering the lambs…he heard their cries mingle with the cries of the one the Baptiser had called the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world. He now heard once again the words of Jesus spoken the night before…words he had so misunderstood at the time. “This is my blood, shed for you.” Blood shed…shed not by a sword…Jesus was giving his life to save theirs…greater love. Simon had no more tears to cry…he felt empty…dry.
He could hear the nails being driven through Jesus’ wrists and feet…he heard the cross thud into place…he heard every word Jesus spoke, as if he was present. But he was not present, was he? No, he was hiding…hiding from the Romans and hiding from the other disciples…but he could not hide from himself.
“Father,” he heard Jesus scream, “forgive them…they don’t know what they are doing!” Simon dared to look. The soldiers were gambling for his clothing. They had nailed the charge against him above his head: “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews”. The leaders paraded before the cross like triumphant hunters, yelling abuse at him. They objected to the charge wanting it to read that he said he was king rather than that he was king, but apparently someone had refused to change it. And so, they continued to mock him instead. Yet he prayed for their forgiveness. “How many times must I forgive,” Simon had once asked… “up to seven times?” Oh, how ashamed he felt. How proud and arrogant he had been! The forgiveness Jesus was praying for at that moment had no limits.
Simon saw the Galilean women standing close to the cross. He could not imagine the pain Jesus’ mother was suffering. Was that John? Yes, it was John…he probably felt safe because he was known to the High Priest…but still Simon was ashamed that of all the men, John was the only one there. He heard Jesus entrust his mother to John…where were Jesus’ brothers?
He could hear the awful shrieks of the other two men as well. As their lungs filled with water, they pulled themselves up, pushing up with their legs, to be able to breathe. One was hurling abuse at Jesus, screaming at him to save them. The other yelled back at him. Simon heard his voice clearly. “Do you not fear God? We are guilty…we deserve this sentence of death. But he has done no wrong!” Then the man turned to Jesus and said, between excruciating gasps “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
“What?” Simon thought. “What kingdom? They were all about to die!”
Then he heard Jesus’ words, “Assuredly, this very day, you will be with me in Paradise.”
“Paradise? What did that mean?” Simon wondered. He had been taught about the collective place of the dead…a place Jesus also spoke about in the story of the beggar Lazarus and the rich man. The beggar rested in Abraham’s bosom while the rich man suffered in flames on the other side of a gulf. Was Abraham’s bosom paradise? What did that have to do with the kingdom?
Suddenly it began to get darker. As first the onlookers were silent…only the anguished cries of the crucified could be heard…but as the light from the sun continued to fade, people began to cry out in terror. Simon heard Jesus cry out in a loud voice: “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”
Simon did not need Andrew to tell him that Jesus was quoting from the Psalms.[1] And he knew that when Jesus quoted the first line, he expected them to recall the whole of the psalm from memory…what was the theme of the psalm? Was it not deliverance?
He heard some say Jesus had called for Elijah. Someone offered Jesus wine on a sponge when he complained of thirst.
Jesus cried out again. “Father!” It was a dry, rasping shriek. “Into Your arms I entrust my spirit!” He thrust himself up to draw one last breath. As he sank back down, Simon heard him say clearly, “It is finished!” Then there was the awful sound of a death rattle. Simon bit into his fist and cried out silently.
But then he heard another sound coming from the Temple. The priests were shouting that the veil covering the Holy of Holies had been ripped apart down the middle. The earth itself was now shaking. People were screaming and running to their homes. “None of this is possible,” Simon thought. “The sun has turned into darkness. The earth is being shaken. It must be the end of the age.” But it was not…it was only the beginning.
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There was a sudden commotion at the cross. At one moment the centurion was shouting something about Jesus’ innocence…then he turned and ordered the breaking of the legs of the criminals. Unknown to Simon, the leaders were concerned that they would not die before sunset, thus defiling their Passover celebrations. “What hypocrites,” Simon thought. “Did they really think they were undefiled? After shedding innocent blood?”
Then he saw two men approaching the huddle of women. They spoke to John. “Who are they?” Simon wondered. He thought they looked like rich men…one looked familiar…was he not a member of the Sanhedrin? He watched silently as they took the lifeless body of Jesus down from the cross…so tenderly…so lovingly…his mother cradling her son as she did when he was a babe. They were in haste as it was the preparation day…the day before the Sabbath…and evening was fast approaching.
“The Judeans will be celebrating the Passover tonight,” Simon thought. “While we will be in mourning. Our Lamb has been slain and is no more.” He would soon learn how wrong he had been.
He watched them hastily wrap Jesus body in spices and linen. The soldiers were there…they went with them to a tomb hewn out of a rock nearby set in a small garden…and there they laid his body on the shelf inside. They could return after the Sabbath to complete the rituals properly. As they left, Simon saw the soldiers secure and seal the large round stone. “Why?” he wondered. “Are they afraid we will steal the body? Why would we steal a dead body? Our hopes and dreams have died too, and they are entombed with him. We have no hope anymore.”
With that he turned away. He must find the others. He would have to face them sooner or later. Better that they are together than apart…at least they could comfort one another. He groaned as he rose. First, he needed to clean himself. He stank of sweat and urine.
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