Barabbas and Simon of Cyrene
Drama
From My Point Of View
Ten Dialogues On The Passion
Presenter: Two men were thrust into the trial and death of Jesus. They had no warning. They had no preparation. They responded from who they were.
Barabbas
Barabbas was the unlettered hero of many Israelites, a prisoner serving time for insurrection and murder. With courage marked more by daring than wisdom, he had led fiery bands of zealots into various battles and skirmishes against Roman forces. Their efforts were doomed to failure before they ever took place, but Barabbas nonetheless became a hero of the people, for he was a swashbuckling character who won immediate loyalty of men, the admiration of women, and the anger of Roman soldiers. He would undertake any risk, regardless how foolish, if it would somehow move the Jewish people one step closer to becoming an independent nation.
To people long oppressed, who had been forced to lick the boots of many conquerors, Barabbas seemed like a bright star, a promise in a world devoid of hope. When they received reports that he and his faithful men had plundered the quarters of the Roman soldiers or had ambushed a small company of Romans on patrol duty, their burdened lives would temporarily be given relief and joy. Barabbas was something of a Jewish Robin Hood. However, his animal cleverness was not enough, for on one occasion the Romans were successful in capturing and imprisoning him.
By chance (or was it by manipulation of the high priest?) Barabbas was brought out during the trial of Jesus to form the choice the people were given to release one man to freedom. This was a custom that was practiced under Pilate. Perhaps Pilate selected Barabbas believing that no one would call for his release, since Pilate himself would have never released him. But he forgot that he was Roman and his subjects were Jewish, and in their eyes Barabbas was a hero, not a scoundrel. Pilate was certain that the choice was stacked, and it was, but not in his favor. "Whom do you want me to release for you, Jesus Barabbas or Jesus who is called the Messiah?" (Matthew 27:17).
Barabbas stood grinning arrogantly, for he had nothing to lose. It was only by the wheel of fortune that he had come to this moment anyway. The sun sparkled upon his curly black hair and revealed a body that was as strong as spring steel in spite of imprisonment. He could have been saying, "Hey, who do you want me to go after?"
On the other hand, Jesus stood in silence. Though he was erect and tall, the anguish of the garden, the all-night trial under the high priest Caiaphas, the cursing and beating of the soldiers, and the total lack of sleep were beginning to take their toll. He felt no need to play to the crowd through an impish grin; his only concern was that of remaining faithful to his Father. That wasn't easily communicated through appearance.
Some people thought well enough of Jesus. After all, he had healed, performed miracles, and taught a highly ethical religion. But when compared with the strutting Barabbas -- one who struck back at the enemy, who would not give in to the enemy under any circumstances -- then Jesus seemed weak and ineffective. The day called for aggressive, forceful strength -- not a philosophy of loving one's enemy. So the crowd shouted for the release of Barabbas.
Now we say, how foolish not to release Jesus. How criminal to kill a man who could grant life abundant. But on that day Barabbas was resplendent in his cockiness; he was the promise of a quick victory and restored national pride.
We never hear of Barabbas again.
Simon of Cyrene
To say that Simon was surprised would be the understatement of all history. He had journeyed a long distance to be in Jerusalem for the Feast of the Passover. His home city was Cyrene, which was located on the southern shore of the Mediterranean Sea -- due south of Corinth, Greece, and due west of Alexandria, Egypt. One source claims it was a 700-mile trip. My atlas measured it -- somewhat as the crow flies -- to be closer to 900 miles. Either one would be considered a long distance if we were to travel by car. But to go by small boat, or by animal, or by foot, would be a very long distance. It was not a journey to be taken lightly. Simon may have made it every five or ten years, or perhaps only once or twice in his lifetime.
It is present-day speculation that Simon may have been a black person. While there was a sizeable group of white Jews in Cyrene, there were native converts, who quite properly assumed Jewish names. In the book of Acts (13:1) it refers to a Symeon (or Simon) who was called Niger, a dark-skinned one, a black one -- in connection with another believer from Cyrene. Since this is the only notation available, it may be too thin to establish that Simon was black. But one scholar points out that "there may be more evidence for this conclusion than any other."
Whatever his color, this man of deep faith had traveled a long distance to worship God at the feast of feasts. It was his ambition to enter the great temple, to join his voice with thousands of others in the saying of the Shema, to hear the scriptures read, and to celebrate once again Israel's deliverance from their oppressors. He had prepared himself through prayer and recounting the events of his people under the guidance of Moses. He had taken great precaution not to disqualify himself from the feast by becoming unclean through association with sinners, the diseased, or the maimed.
As Simon approached the beloved city, he was met by a tumult of voices risen to an hysterical pitch. He was soon engulfed by a surging mob that was shouting for the death of someone named "Jesus" whom they called "the king" in derision. Quickly he asked questions to get enough facts to be able to understand the situation.
At last his eye caught sight of the poor wretch straining under his burden as he climbed his way to the hill of death. No Jewish person touched him or his cross, for this would make them unclean for the festival, so they leaned on the Roman soldiers who surrounded Jesus to get close enough to spit on him or yell insults into his ear.
Simon watched transfixed. This was a horrible drama of people venting their hatred on someone who was a symbol of blasphemy. He found himself pulling back as if the man were a leper.
Then Jesus fell. The soldiers attempted to get him back on his feet, but to no avail. The beating and the scourging he had endured made Jesus too weak to continue. The centurion in charge had to think quickly for a solution to the dilemna. Roman soldiers, by law, were not permitted to carry a cross. He could not select a Jew, for they would be made unclean for the feast -- besides, he couldn't risk the possibility of a riot if he chose one of them. As his mind raced for a solution, his eyes fell upon this foreign-looking man, dressed in the garb of another land. Without a second thought, he pulled his sword and tapped the man on the shoulder -- blade flat -- the symbol of conscription. The soldiers then laid hold of Simon, and instinctively he attempted to wrestle free of them, but he was no match for their strength. He pleaded with the one in charge not to do this. He explained all that he had done to get to Jerusalem. If he were compelled to carry this man's cross, he would be disqualified from the feast. "I may not return for ten years." The soldier ignored him. He knew no one would rise to his defense. He was a stranger. Who ever rushed to defend a stranger?
So Simon carried an unexpected cross. Even as the cutting weight of the cross piece dug into his shoulders, he couldn't believe this was happening. "It just can't be. I've come too far. I have given up too much -- to think that the celebration should be taken from me in the snap of a finger. This must be a bad dream from which I'll waken."
Simon also carried an unwanted cross. How he loathed his task. The cross on his back denied him the goal for which he had so greatly yearned. Its very weight reminded him that all his time and effort had been spent in vain.
I remember how embarrassed the woman was. Her brother had squandered his life. Now he was ill and no one would take him in -- not even his own children. So she took him in, and since her husband wouldn't let him in their house, she cleaned a place in a vacated chicken coop and nursed him to his death. As she explained to me, "Someone had to do this. Someone." How we dislike the unwanted crosses.
But Simon also carried the cross of honor and glory. And this is the miracle -- that an unexpected and unwanted cross could become a cross of honor and glory. What happened that would make this dramatic change possible?
Since we have a record that Jesus spoke to others on that day -- the weeping women, the thieves, the crowd, the beloved disciple -- perhaps he also spoke to Simon. He may have indicated how deeply indebted he was to this stranger and thereby revealed that he understood something of the high price Simon was being forced to pay by this cruel act.
Perhaps the cross took on a different value, as Simon quietly observed this man for whom he was performing this favor. Never had he witnessed a man seeking forgiveness for those who abused him. How sensitively he talked with the thieves. How loving to respond to the care of his mother. Even so, it may have been the centurion's testimony that turned his thinking, "Truly this man was God's son" (Mark 15:39).
Something was communicated from Jesus to Simon. Somehow the unexpected and unwanted cross became the emblem of honor and glory. Simon became a Christian because of, not in spite of, the cross he was made to carry. How are we assured that this is true? He is listed among the prophets and teachers in the Antioch Church; furthermore his sons Rufus and Alexander both became leaders in the church. Both were thought to have traveled with Peter. Paul, in his letter to Rome, expresses appreciation not only for Rufus, but his mother as well (Mark 15:21; Romans 16:13).
Often when we think of accepting Christ, we think of what he can do for us. But there is another side in coming to Christ, and that is the offering of who we are to him. This may cause a violent struggle, for we often want to retain who we are for our own benefit.
Simon scored a great victory over himself on that unforgettable day, for he accepted the courage God offered him to give himself without reserve. That same victory can be ours.
Thou must have looked on Simon;
Turn, Lord, and look on me
'Til I shall see and follow
And bear thy cross for Thee.
-- Harriet Ware Hall
Two men were thrust into the trial and death of Jesus. They had no warning. They had no preparation. They responded from who they were.
One vanished.
One believed.
Barabbas
Barabbas was the unlettered hero of many Israelites, a prisoner serving time for insurrection and murder. With courage marked more by daring than wisdom, he had led fiery bands of zealots into various battles and skirmishes against Roman forces. Their efforts were doomed to failure before they ever took place, but Barabbas nonetheless became a hero of the people, for he was a swashbuckling character who won immediate loyalty of men, the admiration of women, and the anger of Roman soldiers. He would undertake any risk, regardless how foolish, if it would somehow move the Jewish people one step closer to becoming an independent nation.
To people long oppressed, who had been forced to lick the boots of many conquerors, Barabbas seemed like a bright star, a promise in a world devoid of hope. When they received reports that he and his faithful men had plundered the quarters of the Roman soldiers or had ambushed a small company of Romans on patrol duty, their burdened lives would temporarily be given relief and joy. Barabbas was something of a Jewish Robin Hood. However, his animal cleverness was not enough, for on one occasion the Romans were successful in capturing and imprisoning him.
By chance (or was it by manipulation of the high priest?) Barabbas was brought out during the trial of Jesus to form the choice the people were given to release one man to freedom. This was a custom that was practiced under Pilate. Perhaps Pilate selected Barabbas believing that no one would call for his release, since Pilate himself would have never released him. But he forgot that he was Roman and his subjects were Jewish, and in their eyes Barabbas was a hero, not a scoundrel. Pilate was certain that the choice was stacked, and it was, but not in his favor. "Whom do you want me to release for you, Jesus Barabbas or Jesus who is called the Messiah?" (Matthew 27:17).
Barabbas stood grinning arrogantly, for he had nothing to lose. It was only by the wheel of fortune that he had come to this moment anyway. The sun sparkled upon his curly black hair and revealed a body that was as strong as spring steel in spite of imprisonment. He could have been saying, "Hey, who do you want me to go after?"
On the other hand, Jesus stood in silence. Though he was erect and tall, the anguish of the garden, the all-night trial under the high priest Caiaphas, the cursing and beating of the soldiers, and the total lack of sleep were beginning to take their toll. He felt no need to play to the crowd through an impish grin; his only concern was that of remaining faithful to his Father. That wasn't easily communicated through appearance.
Some people thought well enough of Jesus. After all, he had healed, performed miracles, and taught a highly ethical religion. But when compared with the strutting Barabbas -- one who struck back at the enemy, who would not give in to the enemy under any circumstances -- then Jesus seemed weak and ineffective. The day called for aggressive, forceful strength -- not a philosophy of loving one's enemy. So the crowd shouted for the release of Barabbas.
Now we say, how foolish not to release Jesus. How criminal to kill a man who could grant life abundant. But on that day Barabbas was resplendent in his cockiness; he was the promise of a quick victory and restored national pride.
We never hear of Barabbas again.
Simon of Cyrene
To say that Simon was surprised would be the understatement of all history. He had journeyed a long distance to be in Jerusalem for the Feast of the Passover. His home city was Cyrene, which was located on the southern shore of the Mediterranean Sea -- due south of Corinth, Greece, and due west of Alexandria, Egypt. One source claims it was a 700-mile trip. My atlas measured it -- somewhat as the crow flies -- to be closer to 900 miles. Either one would be considered a long distance if we were to travel by car. But to go by small boat, or by animal, or by foot, would be a very long distance. It was not a journey to be taken lightly. Simon may have made it every five or ten years, or perhaps only once or twice in his lifetime.
It is present-day speculation that Simon may have been a black person. While there was a sizeable group of white Jews in Cyrene, there were native converts, who quite properly assumed Jewish names. In the book of Acts (13:1) it refers to a Symeon (or Simon) who was called Niger, a dark-skinned one, a black one -- in connection with another believer from Cyrene. Since this is the only notation available, it may be too thin to establish that Simon was black. But one scholar points out that "there may be more evidence for this conclusion than any other."
Whatever his color, this man of deep faith had traveled a long distance to worship God at the feast of feasts. It was his ambition to enter the great temple, to join his voice with thousands of others in the saying of the Shema, to hear the scriptures read, and to celebrate once again Israel's deliverance from their oppressors. He had prepared himself through prayer and recounting the events of his people under the guidance of Moses. He had taken great precaution not to disqualify himself from the feast by becoming unclean through association with sinners, the diseased, or the maimed.
As Simon approached the beloved city, he was met by a tumult of voices risen to an hysterical pitch. He was soon engulfed by a surging mob that was shouting for the death of someone named "Jesus" whom they called "the king" in derision. Quickly he asked questions to get enough facts to be able to understand the situation.
At last his eye caught sight of the poor wretch straining under his burden as he climbed his way to the hill of death. No Jewish person touched him or his cross, for this would make them unclean for the festival, so they leaned on the Roman soldiers who surrounded Jesus to get close enough to spit on him or yell insults into his ear.
Simon watched transfixed. This was a horrible drama of people venting their hatred on someone who was a symbol of blasphemy. He found himself pulling back as if the man were a leper.
Then Jesus fell. The soldiers attempted to get him back on his feet, but to no avail. The beating and the scourging he had endured made Jesus too weak to continue. The centurion in charge had to think quickly for a solution to the dilemna. Roman soldiers, by law, were not permitted to carry a cross. He could not select a Jew, for they would be made unclean for the feast -- besides, he couldn't risk the possibility of a riot if he chose one of them. As his mind raced for a solution, his eyes fell upon this foreign-looking man, dressed in the garb of another land. Without a second thought, he pulled his sword and tapped the man on the shoulder -- blade flat -- the symbol of conscription. The soldiers then laid hold of Simon, and instinctively he attempted to wrestle free of them, but he was no match for their strength. He pleaded with the one in charge not to do this. He explained all that he had done to get to Jerusalem. If he were compelled to carry this man's cross, he would be disqualified from the feast. "I may not return for ten years." The soldier ignored him. He knew no one would rise to his defense. He was a stranger. Who ever rushed to defend a stranger?
So Simon carried an unexpected cross. Even as the cutting weight of the cross piece dug into his shoulders, he couldn't believe this was happening. "It just can't be. I've come too far. I have given up too much -- to think that the celebration should be taken from me in the snap of a finger. This must be a bad dream from which I'll waken."
Simon also carried an unwanted cross. How he loathed his task. The cross on his back denied him the goal for which he had so greatly yearned. Its very weight reminded him that all his time and effort had been spent in vain.
I remember how embarrassed the woman was. Her brother had squandered his life. Now he was ill and no one would take him in -- not even his own children. So she took him in, and since her husband wouldn't let him in their house, she cleaned a place in a vacated chicken coop and nursed him to his death. As she explained to me, "Someone had to do this. Someone." How we dislike the unwanted crosses.
But Simon also carried the cross of honor and glory. And this is the miracle -- that an unexpected and unwanted cross could become a cross of honor and glory. What happened that would make this dramatic change possible?
Since we have a record that Jesus spoke to others on that day -- the weeping women, the thieves, the crowd, the beloved disciple -- perhaps he also spoke to Simon. He may have indicated how deeply indebted he was to this stranger and thereby revealed that he understood something of the high price Simon was being forced to pay by this cruel act.
Perhaps the cross took on a different value, as Simon quietly observed this man for whom he was performing this favor. Never had he witnessed a man seeking forgiveness for those who abused him. How sensitively he talked with the thieves. How loving to respond to the care of his mother. Even so, it may have been the centurion's testimony that turned his thinking, "Truly this man was God's son" (Mark 15:39).
Something was communicated from Jesus to Simon. Somehow the unexpected and unwanted cross became the emblem of honor and glory. Simon became a Christian because of, not in spite of, the cross he was made to carry. How are we assured that this is true? He is listed among the prophets and teachers in the Antioch Church; furthermore his sons Rufus and Alexander both became leaders in the church. Both were thought to have traveled with Peter. Paul, in his letter to Rome, expresses appreciation not only for Rufus, but his mother as well (Mark 15:21; Romans 16:13).
Often when we think of accepting Christ, we think of what he can do for us. But there is another side in coming to Christ, and that is the offering of who we are to him. This may cause a violent struggle, for we often want to retain who we are for our own benefit.
Simon scored a great victory over himself on that unforgettable day, for he accepted the courage God offered him to give himself without reserve. That same victory can be ours.
Thou must have looked on Simon;
Turn, Lord, and look on me
'Til I shall see and follow
And bear thy cross for Thee.
-- Harriet Ware Hall
Two men were thrust into the trial and death of Jesus. They had no warning. They had no preparation. They responded from who they were.
One vanished.
One believed.
