The Witness
My name is Simon of Cyrene
No stranger to this Nazarene
Of whom I’ve come to testify today
And what I’ve come to say to you
About this man I know is true
So please give ear to what I have to say
I am but a humble man
A stranger to this foreign land
My country is so very far from me
But I have come that you may know
The one whose Spirit moves me so
That you may know this man from Galilee
I was only passing through Jerusalem that day
When I came upon an angry throng
That suffered me to stay
They had gathered just beyond the gate
Outside the wall
And we were on the road to Calvary
To the place they call the Skull
As I drew near, I could hear them
But at first I could not see
The one they scorned and ridiculed
The one they mocked so violently
But I remember when I saw Him
I remember my surprise
To see this man so bruised and beaten
Standing there before my eyes
Who was this man
What had He done to deserve such inhumanity
What did He say to cause such condemnation
From these Pharisees
Why were all these scribes and rulers
So enraged by one so meek
For He seemed to be a gentle man
So strong, but now so weak
Never have I seen such scourging
Never have I felt such shame
Never have I seen such anguish
Born of sin and borne with pain
I could see this man of sorrows
I could feel the maddening crowd
As if they were possessed by demons
Crying out so very loud, "CRUCIFY HIM!
CRUCIFY HIM! CRUCIFY HIM!"
But in His face I saw no anger
No contempt for those who sneered
From His lips no condemnation
From His eyes no bitter tears
His countenance was one of pity
Strangely though He made no sound
Like a Lamb led to the slaughter
He was bound without a word.
And I thought
How could this man be so gentle
How could this man be so meek
How could this man be so silent
Why did He refuse to speak
As the soldiers scourged and mocked Him
Blood was flowing down His cheeks
From the angry crown of thorns
That pierced His brow
His cross He carried ‘till He stumbled
Falling weakly to the ground
Still He uttered no reviling
Still He did not make a sound
A Roman soldier struck and mocked Him
"Rise up Jesus, King of the Jews
Take up your cross if you are able
Or feel my wrath if you refuse"
How my heart cried out to help Him
But my fear kept me at bay
No longer could I bear to watch Him
But I could not turn away
And for a moment, just a moment
Which seemed like an eternity
This man of sorrows turned His eyes on me
He was not a man of beauty
No one would desire Him
His visage was so marred and swollen
From the stripes that tore His skin
I could feel His lacerations
Bleeding to the bone
And robbing Him of precious life
As if they were my own
Then through the darkness of my soul
The Son of God shone through
As from His eyes, a brilliant light
Pierced me through and through
A sudden peace came over me
That I knew was not my own
And I felt His love and dignity
Unlike anything I’ve known
Then I heard His voice call my name
Simon of Cyrene
Take up my cross and follow me
A humble Nazarene
Then reaching down I took the cross
From this man of Galilee
And the demons that were mocking Him
Now were mocking me
And I followed Him to die on Calvary
There the nails were driven in
First His hands and then His feet
Still He uttered no reviling
Still He seemed to be so meek
Unlike the thief who scorned and mocked Him
Though condemned to die like Him
He hung there on that blood stained tree
So innocent of all our sin
And I recall the final scene
Just before He died
The sky grew dark, the crowd reviled Him
Some of His own friends denied Him
While others stood beside the cross
And cried bitter tears
I could not move, I could not speak
I was frozen in that place and time
I could only mourn and weep
Knowing that His sins were mine
Then this man I never knew
This Nazarene who was a Jew
Cried "Father, forgive them
For they know not what they do"
Then from His voice that spoke forgiveness
Came these words, "I thirst"
As demon armies gathered round Him
How they mocked Him how they cursed
But sour wine mixed with gall
Was all that they would offer Him
To ease His pain and suffering
Inflicted by the curse of sin
And as He hung there on that cross
My life flashed before my eyes
As in a voice so all alone, He cried
“My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?
It is finished”
Then He yielded up His Spirit and He died
The sky grew dark and heaven roared
The earth was shaken to its core
The temple veil itself was torn in two
By raging bolts of thunder
The rocks were split asunder
As if God Himself had crucified Him too
Now those who mocked Him were afraid
Many ran and hid away
No longer did they scorn Him and applaud
And I heard a Roman soldier say
The one who stood by Him that day
That, "Truly, this was the Son of God"
And there I was upon my knees
With nowhere else to go
So lost in my iniquities, that I had come to know
The pain and fear that gripped my heart
Had cut me like a knife
Was tearing at my very soul
And robbing me of life
Then I looked upon His lifeless form
So pure and undefiled
This man that they call Jesus
The one the world reviled
Has caused my heart to bleed inside
As a witness to the way He died
Below the cross, the ground was rent
As the gift of life that heaven sent
Flowed freely from His hands and feet
To rest upon the mercy seat
The blood He shed for you and me
Because of our iniquity
Has paid in full, the wages of our sin
My name is Simon of Cyrene
No stranger to this Nazarene
Of whom I've come to testify today
Written by Bruce Moss
To God be the glory