A Crown and a Beam

TERESITA TANSECO-CRUZ

When I try to imagine what Christ really looked like or how his life’s events actually happened, I only have artists’ renditions or an occasionally good film’s interpretation for “reference.”
So, in the absence of accuracy, I choose images that arouse deep meaning for me.

For example…

Here is a Roman soldier busily chatting with his companions while smugly shoving a crown of thorns on Jesus’ head, as though it were some casual task of the day, like cleaning his sword or something. Not much to it. Or maybe he’s having fun being the one to show this perceived rebel that he cannot mess around with Romans, no sir! See how you like thorns stabbing your head, King of the Jews! Enjoy the blood!

I am riveted by this image. It allows me no escape, like being glued to a horror movie until one screams, terrified, across the theater (or neighborhood) at the scariest part.

I see myself as the haughty soldier every time I have turned my back on God. I’m too busy for you, Jesus. I’m in command here, not you! You’re a “by the way” presence in my life. I prefer my way over yours. The love you talk about is too bothersome. Arrogance is easier, more satisfying for me!

I cringe in shame and fear. Lord, I don’t want to be that abominable soldier! Please, Lord ! Help me !

Then I see this. Depicted here is Simon of Cyrene, mentioned in Mark 15:21 simply as a “passerby.” He was plucked from amidst the riotous crowd and “compelled” to help Jesus carry the Cross at the beam. The Roman soldiers were making sure that Christ, severely tortured and debilitated, made it to Golgotha with the cross on which he was to be hanged.

Simon was not a volunteer, even if he might have felt sympathy for Jesus. Yet he did become as if, by chance, a memorable player in the pivotal road to Calvary.

Simon helped Jesus heave that massive cross through a grueling crawl. A seemingly random recruit having no acquaintance with Jesus, no dramatic gestures or declared intention, had practically stumbled into a rich wellspring of grace, becoming an enduring symbol of humble service in the company of Christ.

I am overcome with remorse and fueled with hope. I beg God to release my hands from the blood-extracting crown and transfer them to the beam of the Cross so I, too, may help lessen Christ’s burden instead of causing it.

Then I realize that indeed, I am both Roman soldier and Simon of Cyrene – sinner and haphazard follower. The good news, God reminds me, is that my place and worth as His treasured child remains unchanged. He accepts my sorrow over sin and my effort to do better, all the while loving me with incredible abandon, with resolute fidelity, and unceasing mercy.

To help with the beam. Or perhaps just move a loose stone on the ground out of his way. Staying next to Jesus is the only path out of the dangerous clutches of that deadly, ever-clamoring crowd of my self-serving pursuits.

I ask God to help me dissolve a persecutor’s arrogant smirk into the joyful smile of a grateful companion, born of sweat, blood, love, and grace falling on me from Christ, as we journey together…as Jesus shows me continually how to live my days getting closer to him, loving him, serving him. And helping me to daily, gratefully remember why on earth, or in heaven’s name, he came to save us.