Luke 23:26-31 * Maundy Thursday 2008 * Pastor Leyrer

Dear Friends in Christ,

Throughout the Lenten season we have been following the footsteps of our Savior as He makes His way to His ultimate Lenten destination, the cross. On this Maundy Thursday we continue the journey.

Although most often associated with the Roman Catholic Church, I would guess that most of us are familiar with a devotional aid called “the stations of the cross.” It’s a series of statues or carvings along a path. Each “station” is a visual representation of something that took place while Jesus made His way from Pontius Pilate to Golgotha.

Traditionally there are 14 such stations, beginning with Jesus’ being condemned to death and ending with His lifeless body being placed in the tomb. Unfortunately, about half of the traditional stations are based on pious legends rather than Scripture.

For example, the sixth station is devoted to a woman named Veronica who supposedly wiped Jesus face with a handkerchief. Other stations depict Jesus falling, or Mary meeting up with her son along the way. While it’s possible some of these things took place (like Jesus falling), there is no Scriptural basis for them.

Tonight we’d like to focus on two events Scripture tells us did occur on that final journey. One involved a Simon and another involved a sermon. Both are worthy of our contemplation this evening as we walk with Jesus

FROM PILATE TO GOLGOTHA

As they led him away, they seized Simon from Cyrene, who was on his way in from the country, and put the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus.

The back story to our text can be summarized in this single line from the Apostles’ Creed: “He suffered under Pontius Pilate.” We know it well.

Jesus is mentally and physically exhausted. He has been deprived of sleep and endured a series of severe beatings. Isaiah, writing 700 years earlier but with prophetic vision of that first Good Friday, describes Jesus in this way: “His appearance was… disfigured beyond that of any man and his form marred beyond human likeness.”

“Dead man walking” is the traditional call of a prison guard as a man is being led from death row to the execution chamber. That’s what Jesus was: a dead man walking. On top of that, He’s carrying the very instrument of His execution on His back.

Given the circumstances and given His condition, something had to let loose. That’s where Simon of Cyrene comes in. He’s one of those bit players in the divine drama we call Holy Week. We don’t know much about him. Here’s what we do know:

He was from Cyrene, modern day Libya, west of Egypt. So he’s over 800 miles from home. Was he a Jewish pilgrim who had made an extremely long trip to be in Jerusalem for the high, holy festival of the Passover? That’s possible, because we know there was large Jewish settlement in Cyrene. Or had he relocated in the greater Jerusalem area and was simply “on his way in from the country” as our text states? We don’t know.

Because Cyrene is in Africa some have suggested that Simon was a man of color. Many of the movies on the life of Christ cast him this way. Again, we don’t know.

Whether he was a Jew or a Gentile, a pilgrim or a transplant; whether he was actively following the events of the day or simply got caught up in them, Simon appears on the scene of Jesus’ Passion history. From his perspective he undoubtedly found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. We can be certain that when Simon woke up that morning he did not expect to be pressed into the service of carrying a condemned man’s cross. But he was. And that’s what we remember him for.

In fact, Simon is now sometimes exalted as the great cross bearer; one who in a very public way carried out Jesus’ words that those who call themselves His disciples must “take up their crosses and follow Him.” But, truth be told, that’s a bit of a stretch. Jesus was referring to enduring trials because of our faith. Simon was bearing this cross because he had been requisitioned into service by a Roman soldier who wanted to keep the parade moving.

Nevertheless, there is something to admire about Simon. Mark’s account of this incident refers to Simon as “the father of Alexander and Rufus” (15:21). By mentioning the names of his sons we can reasonably assume the readers of this gospel knew who they were. In other words, his sons were well-known Christians. And it’s likely that their father was the one who told them about Christ.

But how did Simon come to know Jesus as Savior? Maybe after making his delivery to Golgotha he stayed for a few hours. Maybe after seeing and hearing he came to the same conclusion as the centurion who witnessed the events and proclaimed, “Surely this man was the Son of God” (Mark 15:39).

Or maybe Simon became convinced of this even before he came to “the place of the skull.” Maybe he was convinced by the other event that happened in our text – a sermon.

A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. Jesus turned and said to them, "Daughters of Jerusalem, 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!' 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?"

This incident is found only in Luke’s gospel. While his execution was engineered by the religious elite, Jesus still had many who were sympathetic toward this turn of events. Like Pilate, they knew He was innocent of all charges. Among those singled out are the “women who mourned and wailed for him.” We get the impression of a noisy demonstration of deep grief.

But Jesus neither wants nor needs their pity. Rather, He pities them. He quotes what appears to be a proverbial statement about green and dry trees. Bible scholars debate the full implications of this statement, but the general meaning seems to be this: If this is what happens to an innocent man, what will happen to those who are truly guilty?

This statement had both a historical and spiritual meaning. Approximately 40 years later, during Passover in A.D. 70, the Romans laid siege to Jerusalem, trapping all visitors inside the city walls. Historians report the siege lasted 143 days. With food supplies cut off, terrible things happened within those walls as people did whatever was necessary to survive. It was a time when the living envied the dead. Then 30,000 Roman troops stormed the city and destroyed everything.

The Jewish historian Josephus reported that thousands upon thousands of Jews were slaughtered. As prophesied earlier by Jesus, not one stone was left upon another. Throughout the process mothers wept at the loss of their children. The childless were blessed in the sense that they had no sons or daughters to lose.

With these words Jesus was warning the women of what would come. But it went beyond that. There was a bigger picture behind this soon-to-happen historical atrocity. This was a call to repentance. Instead of pitying Him, Jesus wanted them to look into their own hearts and look at the sin that made this whole journey necessary. Then they would understand that Jesus walked this road not as a criminal worthy of their pity, but a Savior worthy of their praise.

Therein is the great Lenten lesson for us. During Lent it is easy to feel pity for Jesus. We hear the passion history and we cringe at what Jesus went through. But Jesus does not desire our pity. What he wants is our repentance.

Over what? Here are a few examples to try on for size. How about repentance over carelessly taking His name in vain. Or our addiction to material things. Or our casualness in gossiping and slandering others. Or an extremely self-centered world view that has a hard time seeing past our own interests. Or a penchant for focusing not on the many things we have, but on the few things we don’t. Or the care with which we cultivate a spirit of discontent. Or the pleasure with which we complain. Or an unforgiving spirit that just loves the deliciousness and self-righteousness of holding a grudge. Any fit?

Don’t weep over Me, Jesus says. Weep over the things that made this journey necessary. And then turn to Me in repentance and faith and love and confidence, knowing that though your sins are like scarlet, because of the journey I made in your place and on your behalf, you now stand white as snow in the eyes of God. That’s the sermon of Jesus as applied to us today.

And that sermon leads us to the last thing we should talk about tonight. It’s not in our text, but it fits because it took place on that first Maundy Thursday. We’ve spoken of a Simon, then a sermon; now let us briefly talk about a sacrament.

Soon many of us will once again have the high privilege of coming to Lord’s Supper. Let us understand it for what it is: the very body and blood of Christ in, with and under the bread and wine.

In our catechism we call it the Real Presence. In the words of one of our old hymns, an “awe-full mystery is here, to challenge faith and waken fear; the Savior comes as food divine, concealed in earthly bread and wine.”

Then let us understand if for why it is. Here Jesus comes to us in a personal and individualized way. He wants us to know how much He loves us. He wants us to know that we are forgiven. And He wants to empower us to live our lives in the joy of that forgiveness.

So let us come forward this evening in the spirit of Simon of Cyrene, the believing cross-bearer of Christ. Let us come in response to Jesus’ sermon to us on the need for daily repentance. And let us go home this evening refreshed in the assurance of forgiveness the sacrament provides. Amen.