Simon of Cyrene

Simon of Cyrene: A Monologue

A visitor to Jerusalem is caught up in the affairs of Easter. This monologue describes the incredible events that took place when Simon of Cyrene was forced to carry the Master's cross. The love and blessing that Jesus gave to Simon had an everlasting effect on him. He went from a stranger to a believer. One of our most popular monologues.

Sample Script:

Simon of Cyrene is a figure who appears in only one verse of scripture. He was a faithful Jew living in Northern Africa. Some speculate that he was black, though this is unlikely as one of his sons' names was Rufus (meaning "Red").

As a faithful Jew who had been scattered during the exile, he returned to his homeland for the feast of the Passover. Let us use our imagination.

Let's imagine we are in Africa when he returns to Cyrene to talk to his two sons—Alexander and Rufus—about the things that happened on his trip. Remember, they are Jews, not Christians. They had never heard the story of Jesus before.

Simon Speaks:

SIMON: Boys, come sit down. I just have to tell you what happened on my trip to Jerusalem. The reason I'm home early is because I just had to hurry to tell you.

As you know, I didn't leave as early as I wanted. You remember how nothing seemed to go right that morning as I packed to leave. And, as you could expect, the more I hurried, the slower I got.

When I neared Jerusalem, I was running way behind schedule. I had missed so many things. I knew I had to hurry because I had to make housing arrangements—which isn't easy during Passover. You know how it is when you're hurrying—there are always problems. This time, the problem was a traffic jam.

I was not far from the place outside Jerusalem called Golgotha—because it looks like a skull. Right ahead of me was a huge mob of people. It looked like they might be watching a parade. I had no time to wait, so I pushed my way through the crowd.

When I got to the front, I found myself next to the road. In the distance, I could see a man trying to carry a cross. He had been badly beaten. Boys, I've seen lots of beatings, but I've never seen one this bad before! It was all he could do to carry his cross—in fact, he would never have made it up to Golgotha.

I didn’t know what to make of it. But then I saw some people I recognized. They were devout Jews. I had met them on previous trips to Jerusalem. I pushed my way over next to Ananias, a Pharisee—a very godly man—and I asked him:

SIMON: "What is happening?"

ANANIAS: "This man thinks he is the Son of God!"

That made me so mad that I shouted in a loud voice and shook my fist:

SIMON: "YOU BLASPHEMER!"

Ananias also said:

ANANIAS: "He calls himself the King of the Jews."

I couldn't control myself. I shouted many things:

SIMON: "YOU TRAITOR! YOU HYPOCRITE! YOU'RE GETTING EXACTLY WHAT YOU DESERVE!"

As I continued to shout, he and the soldiers were drawing near to me. Right in the middle of my shouting, and I guess I was just about out of my head, one of the soldiers reached out and grabbed my arm. The man had just fallen again.

SOLDIER: "Carry this Cross!"

Well—I hated to carry that cross. First of all, I was late. I didn't have time for interruptions. Besides, he should have to do it himself. Nevertheless, I had no choice.

So, with anger, impatience, and many other emotions all worked up, I bent over to pick up the cross…

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