Short Stories

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From Cyrene to Life Everlasting

By Robert Dean


I make my way to Israel from Cyrene, a pilgrimage for the Passover event in the Temple of Jerusalem. It has been a long journey and still my heart is prepared for worship and to celebrate the Passover with my fellow Jews.

Jerusalem is bustling. The road is full and the city is bursting in anticipation of the events to come. As I walk the streets, the crowd is loud with celebration. Many have traveled from all over the world. I am amazed at the jubilation of it all.

In my travels, I encounter several who have heard the teaching of a great teacher in the land. They say that his words are powerful and his message is clear. This man of words heals the sick and raises the dead. I only hope that I can meet such a man during my visit.

They say the prophet is Jesus of Nazareth. I wonder how I can recognize this man as I walk the crowded streets of Jerusalem. He must be here if he is truly a man of God.

“Excuse me kind sir, do you know a man from Nazareth called Jesus?” I ask a man selling wine.

He replies, “He was arrested in the garden of Gethsemane by Roman soldiers. You might find him in the dungeons because of the blasphemy he speaks.”

“I heard he heals the sick and raises the dead.”

“You have heard those myths, they were created by his followers. Are you one of his followers?”

“No, I have just heard about the man in my travels.”

“You’d do better by avoiding his company and the company of his followers or you will meet the same fate as he.”

“What fate is that you speak of?”

“There is talk that he will be crucified.”

“Well, thank you sir. I will stay clear of him then.”

I walk away wondering how a man with such powers can be crucified. Does he speak blasphemy or does God send him to the world to heal the sick? Surely, this cannot be true.

Listening to the crowd as I walk through the streets, people mumble and talk of the man Jesus openly as a blasphemer. Near a corner I hear a women as she draws attention to a man standing nearby, warming himself by a fire.

“You also were with that Nazarene, Jesus.” The women exclaimed as the crowd began to be agitated.

“No, I don’t know or understand what you are talking about.” The man chanted as he went off.

Again I wonder who this Jesus is to these people who have witnessed such spectacular miracles. Is this Jesus so terrible that the people seek out others that followed him? I just don’t understand.

I make my way back to my inn to rest. The night is long as I ponder this man and what he means. Prophet or Blasphemer? I won’t know the answer to that question until I seek the man out.

Hearing the rooster crow twice early in the morning, I begin to prepare for the day. I make my way out the door to the streets, which are nearly empty. ‘Where is everyone?’ I wonder as I set out for the temple.

I look off in the distance where a large crowd begins lining the streets. As I draw closer, I see three large wood planks being carried up the road. A closer look reveals they are three crosses being carried by convicted men.

As the crosses drew closer to me, I could see the first man carrying a cross. He is bloody and struggling with the heavy object. The other men behind him do not seem to be as bloody as the first man. I wondered what crime the first man committed to deserve such a beating before death upon a cross.

Closer they draw nearer and the crowd begins to stir around me. The people spit on the first man. He stumbles and falls on the stone road. The crowd gets louder as the Roman soldiers crack their whips upon the back of the first man. I lean forward for a better view of the man.

I hear a loud voice, “Hey, you!!!” A Roman soldier yells.

I tried to sink into the crowd so I would not be notice. A hand reaches out and grabs me as try to slip away.

“You, carry that cross!” The Roman soldier demands.

“Me?” I asked with complete shock.

“Yes, You!!!!”

I look at the soldier poised before me with his sword in one hand and a whip in the other. I realize that he is quite serious about the order he just gave me.

“I am Simon of Cyrene,” I explain, hoping that he would not pick someone who was not from Jerusalem.

“I don’t care who you are Jew, pick up that cross!!!” He orders me once again in a deep, stern voice.

I reach down and pick up the cross reluctantly. I glance over and see a bloody face with a crown of thorns upon his head. His eyes still gleam with a glow that I have never seen before. Although tired and bloody, I sensed his appreciation and love as I pick up his cross.

I hear yelling from the crowd, I reach down and help the man to his feet. The instant I touch his blood soaked robe, I feel his power travel throughout my body. I see that there was something very special about this man.

As this man walked ahead of me, I heard the wails of women in the crowd. The man paused and glanced in the direction of the women.

“Daughters of Jerusalem,” the man says to them, “Do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children. For the time will come when you will say, ‘Blessed are the barren women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!’”

The man continues, “Then, they will say to the mountains, ‘fall on us!’ and to the hills, ‘cover us!’ For if men do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?”

I cannot believe my ears. This mans words are terrifying to those who listen. He is claiming to be innocent and tells the crowd that they may be doomed in the future. If a man is innocent and they do this to him, imagine what will happen to us who are guilty. ‘That is all of us!!!!’ I thought. We all are guilty of some wrong, thus are doomed to a worse fate then this man’s. We will wish that the mountains to fall on us, and the hills to cover us in an effort to avoid just punishment. How can I avoid such agony?

We continue on, along the road to a place they called Golgotha. I have known of this place since my childhood as the Place of the Skull. It was not a place I would have gone in my travels, yet I am at peace with the man beside me. Death normally would stir me, yet this seems right, yet wrong. Why is this man suffering this tremendous punishment? If he is innocent, then what can possibly be the crime to deserve this punishment?

At the top of the hill, I lay the heavy cross on the ground as I steady the man beside me. A Roman soldier pulls me away and tosses me to the ground. I stand and brush myself off as the man is offered wine mixed with myrrh as a painkiller for the agony that he is about to endure. I stand in shock of it all as he refuses their concoction.

The man is tossed to the ground on the cross. I cannot watch as the soldiers’ pound the nails into his hands and then his feet. Then the soldiers take off the clothes of the man in an effort to further humiliate him. Yet, this man remains without a fight.

I turned to look and see the men hoisted up into the sky. The cross in the middle was the cross I had carried. It has a sign attached to the top that reads, ‘This is the King of the Jews’. Laughter rumbles throughout the crowd. I feel such agony for the man as the soldiers and his own people mock him continually as he suffers. I began to walk away as tears well up in my eyes.

Looking back at the soldiers, I watch helplessly as they casts lots for the clothing of the man directly beneath his feet.

The man glances down from the cross at three women who gathers near by. Along with them is a man comforting one of the women. He speaks to this group, “Dear woman, here is your son.” And looking at the young man he says, “Here is your mother.” I begin to weep.

The second man begins to speak and hurl insults to the man on the middle cross. “Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!” I realize he is just like mob that stands before them in judgment. This man follows, what seems to be the popular opinion. He is interested only in what he can do make the world think better of him before his death.

Then the third man rebukes the second, “Don’t you fear God,” he says, “Since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” This man believes in the innocence of the one in the middle. He goes against nearly everyone in the crowd. He stands up for a belief in what he thinks is right. He seeks out forgiveness with complete disregard for the world.

The third man turns to the other man on the cross in the middle and says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus? I thought as I gazed at the man on the middle cross.

Jesus then replies, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”

This prophet just promised this man forgiveness. But only God can forgive sins. Is he a blasphemer or is he God? Why does he not choose to release himself from all this punishment? Why doesn’t he strike down the Roman soldiers with the breath from his lips? Why doesn’t he release himself from the pain?

At about the sixth hour, I left to go back to my inn when the skies grew very dark and the ground began to shake. I ran quickly into the city for fear of what was happening. I could see that Jesus could possibly be God. How can this be?

For a couple of days, I ponder the event for which I witnessed. I travel back home to Cyrene with many questions in my heart. The events of this trip will live with me every day of my life. Somewhere along my journey, the spirit of God entered me and I began to understand the meaning of the life of Jesus.

My choice is to carry on with the teachings of Jesus. I take with me a new knowledge, a new life, and a new purpose. The dry tree such as I cannot repay the sacrifice paid by Jesus. Because of the ultimate sacrifice, I am delivered from the sure death of agony, hell. Through the blood, I am washed of my imperfection before God. I give my life to the only way, Jesus Christ our Lord.

In conclusion to this text, I have determined that Jesus, indeed, as prophesized in the transcripts of God. There can be no other explanation. Jesus came to earth for me and for all those who will follow Him.

I am witness to the greatest act of Our Fathers Love, Christ Jesus. Amen

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