Privilege:When Simon of Cyrene helped bear the weight of the cross with Jesus, stepping forward together in suffering. I thought what a wonderful privilege.
I was reminded of a time back in early high school when I was ridiculed for my open Christianity. Two life long friends transferred in from another school and made new friends, with the boys that despised me the most. I tried to make friends with them all but for my buddys it soon became a choice of me or them and I was not the winner. One morning I went to chat with them and was told by the group to go away and don't ever come back. I wasn't going to give up my friendships that easily and hung around trying to be nice. Then one of the boys found an old pair of underpants lying on the ground, picked them up with a stick and dropped them on my head. Immeadiately I felt like Jesus with his crown of thorns while they all jumped around laughing. So I stood there and made no move to dislodge the offence. Soon one of my 'buddys' flicked the undies off my head but the others were incensed that I had still not got the message to 'nick off'. So another of the boys got out some matches, lit them and threw them onto my head. My hair caught fire and started to flame up. Again I was unmoved, unwilling to let the emotional and physical impact overcome my Christian resolve. So I imagined the fire on my head was like when the apostles were baptised with fire on their heads at Pentecost. As the flames spread out the 'buddy' again came over, with his jumper, and put it out. Then the bell rang and we all dispersed off to our classes.
There is something special? or connecting? about suffering in partnership with God. For Simon I'm sure it would have had an amazing impact on his life, that he may not have realized untill much later, just what a privilege he had to share a moment with Jesus in his struggle.
Sin:
Our sin is the reason Jesus suffered. I felt this most as the nails were being hammered into Jesus's hands.
I was reminded of a time when I placed my life in Gods hands, largly due to a recurring vision I had been having all day. I kept seeing myself as the one who was hammering the nails into Jesus's hands, over and over. A powerful conviction of my own sin as being responsible for the death of christ. The weight of that realisation being a burdon almost to difficult to bear.
We all sin, we're all responsible, we've all hammered the nails... we've all been set free.
It's a privilege to be a Christian, when so many others aren't, to be freed from sin by Christ's sacrifice on the cross. The images tonight served to draw me back closer to the centre of my Christianity. The centre of Easter.
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