I was four or five years old when my Papaw put me on the back of his motorcycle and spun me around the ranch where he was foreman. Papaw was a war hero, a deacon in his church, and in my generous memory, one of the best men who ever lived. He died when I was in seventh grade, so my Papaw is as much a creation of my memory as he was a real man. I realize that. But I also remember that when we went to visit, he spent every waking minute with me. And to a four year old holding on for dear life on the back of Papaw's motorcycle, that was the thrill of a lifetime.
Just a few years ago, I was in the garage on a typical Saturday in the middle of Spring. The air was dry, 70 degrees, and filled with the smell of blossoming flowers. As I polished the chrome on my first Harley, a stranger walked up to my garage and said, "Nice bike." I replied with a kind smirk, "Yeah, I know."
Come to find out he was a neighbor just down the street. He asked if I had a set of jumper cables he could borrow. I said, "Of course." Then I handed them over, he left for a few minutes, I heard the rumble of a coughing engine a few doors down, and then saw him again as he returned the cables.
We talked for a while, exchanged "get-to-know-you" greetings like "What do you do for a living?" and so forth. When he found out I was a preacher, he had the typical face-drop "Oh?" expression we preachers have come to grow accustomed to over the years. But the more we talked, the more we connected, first around engines, and then around Christ. I didn't baptize him that day, nor did he leave that weekend for seminary. Nothing that dramatic. No, instead, we shook hands, and without telling him directly, he knew that the time we shared had deeper significance than neighborly small-talk.
As Jesus made his way to the cross, he met two people along the way. According to the tradition called "The Stations of the Cross," numbers four and five involve two people.
IV - Jesus meets his mother
V - Simon of Cyrene carries Jesus' cross
Two people.
One was perhaps the most intimate person in his life, the one who knew him the longest during his time on earth. The mother was the one who changed Jesus' diapers, wiped his nose, and held him when he cried. The loving parent was the one who fed him meal after meal, and maybe even played dress-up with him on a rainy afternoon.
The other was a complete stranger. Simon. A foreigner. (But then again, aren't we all foreigners?) Simon. A man commissioned involuntarily to participate in the most significant day in all of history. Simon. Father of two boys who made their way from North Africa having no idea what role they would play in the story of all stories. A stranger to Jesus. But not for long.
Today, we continue to make our way to the cross. Along the way, we will encounter those we love with all of our hearts. And along the way, we will encounter complete strangers who may become important people in our lives.
Today, we continue to make our way to the cross. All kinds of individuals will be on the road. Whether loved ones or strangers, we press on to the cross. Papaw will ride his motorcycle there. The stranger will start up his broken down pickup and make his way. Then as we get a little closer throughout the day, no telling who we might encounter on the path.
