Simon

JMJ. I was looking forward to another Passover, this year in Jerusalem. I can't afford the travel often but the crops were good this year. But the whole city is a-buzz with the foment of revolution. Just a week ago the latest of our "deliverers" rode into Jerusalem on the back of an ass. The crowd strewed palm branches before Him and acclaimed that He was our messiah. Now they want to crucify Him.

Who is this poor man, this Jesus? For heaven's sake, they've scourged Him within an inch of His life as it is! I can't believe He's even able to walk. I know what the cat does with its sharp claws. It's stoked Him bloody raw, how can He even walk? And they expect Him to carry that cross all the way to Calvary? How could God allow this to happen, though?

Poor fellow. That circlet of thorns bites so deeply into His brow I can't believe He can see through the blood that clouds His eyes.

Rufus and Alexander think He's the Son of God. I don't see how that can be. How could God allow His Son to be so mistreated? I wouldn't do this to the lowliest cur of the alleys, for heaven's sake! And the damned Romans expect He's to carry that heavy cross more than a mile? It'll be a miracle if He takes more than a dozen steps before He drops over.

What? Oh, no. I'm not going to help Him carry that! I have nothing to do with Him. I won't be associated with His crimes! I'm a law-abiding citizen, God knows. I won't help Him, however innocent He might be. He can carry that cross by Himself for all of me. Hell, people will think I have something to do with Him. Alright, alright, leave me be.

He can barely breath, let alone carry this thing. Poor man. How dangerous can He be, bleeding and broken as He is? Alexander believes. Rufus believes. I can't see that He's anything special. Except His eyes! I've never seen eyes as eloquent as His. Maybe there's something to His message after all. Okay. "Take hold of my waist. Hold tight. I'll carry this thing and You just follow as best You can."

One step. One step and then another. We'll get there, ok? Hold tight and I'll help. But what do you have to look forward to but an agonising death? Look at those guys behind us. Whimpering. The Romans say that they're thieves. If so, they ought to be here. But not You. It's a shame that you should leave this earth in their company. Come on, hold tight. We're almost there now. You know, this cross is a lot lighter than I thought it would ever be. I'm sorry it was meant for you. You don't deserve it.

It was meant for me, wasn't it? Oh, God! it was meant for me! And He's taking it up instead. I'm so sorry! Forgive me. It was mine all along, wasn't it? Jesus forgive me.