The Lonely Road

I am preaching this morning. Our church tends to shy away from the whole notion of someone preaching. We "share" or "bring" the word which sounds a lot less intimidating. I don't aim to intimidate - but it happens sometimes when a person is confronted with what's written in the Bible.

I am preaching on Simon of Cyrene. I have a poem that intend to read at the end. This is not that poem, but one, in Blue Peter fashion, I prepared earlier.


The Lonely Road

I aided and abetted in
The killing of a man
I became entangled in
An evil, ugly plan

Just merely a spectator
Pulled from the crowd around
They pushed me t’wards a beaten man
Just lying on the ground

“Pick up his cross and carry it!”
A Roman soldier screamed
I then became a player
In an act I’d never dreamed

His cross was placed upon me
No light and easy yoke
I felt His blood upon it
Into my shoulder soak

Small sharp splinters pierced my skin
I saw my own blood shed
Side by side I walked with Him
This man soon to be dead

The pace was slow and anguished
He stumbled on the path
A vicious whip descended
To show the soldier’s wrath

I could not stop from crying out
I felt such shame and hurt
That no one would show mercy
And lift Him from the dirt

Each step such bitter torture
My arms began to throb
We walked a lonely road that day
Jeered by an angry mob

We reached our destination
Away upon a hill
The crowd had gathered round us
The air was cold and chill

The cross I then surrendered
My part came to a close
I watched them nail Him to it
With heavy brutal blows

It seemed I could not walk away
And leave this savage scene
That I would want to see the end
Of someone’s life? Obscene

I touched His blood upon my cheek
I felt its awesome power
And somehow knew His sacrifice
Destroyed sin’s curse that hour

Yes, standing ‘neath His wretched cross
I came at last to see
What precious gift to walk beside
A man so great as He!