St. James Prayer Break Gathering 07 28 2026

July 28, 2026
The focus of St. James Presbyterian Church’s weekly 30-minute Prayer Break Gathering is based on one of the scriptures of our PCUSA Daily Lectionary, Matthew 27.32.  Today we will be pairing it with a poem “Simon the Cyrenian Speaks” by Countee Cullen.  Today as you read these two, may your discernment in the Spirit bring ease.
Matthew 27.32
32As they went out, they came upon a man from Cyrene named Simon; they compelled this man to carry his cross.
Simon the Cyrenian Speaks–Countee Cullen

He never spoke a word to me,
    And yet He called my name;
He never gave a sign to me,
    And yet I knew and came.
At first I said, "I will not bear
    His cross upon my back;
He only seeks to place it there
    Because my skin is black."
But He was dying for a dream,
    And He was very meek,
And in His eyes there shone a gleam
    Men journey far to seek.
It was Himself my pity bought;
    I did for Christ alone
What all of Rome could not have wrought
    With bruise of lash or stone.

Meditation: Face to Face, Eye to Eye
Today we are doing something different in our Prayer Break Gathering. We are placing a biblical text beside a piece of literature and listening for the prayer that rises between them. Matthew tells us that Simon the Cyrenian was compelled to carry the cross of Jesus. Countee Cullen’s poem, “Simon the Cyrenian Speaks,” allows Simon to speak from within that moment.
Simon the Cyrenian was an African man. He was a free man moving through the Roman Empire when soldiers seized him and placed the cross upon his back. He did not choose to enter this scene. He was compelled by the authority of Rome.
Many of us know something about being singled out to carry what we did not choose. Because of race, people are still expected to bear burdens that others are permitted to avoid. We are expected to explain, absorb, endure, repair, forgive, remain composed, and carry the consequences of systems we did not create.
Circumstances can make it feel as though our only choice is to accept whatever weight has been placed upon us. Cullen does not ask us to call that burden holy. He allows Simon to tell the truth about what he suspects: “He only seeks to place it there because my skin is black.”
Simon understands that his African identity has made him visible to imperial power as someone whose body may be commanded. Cullen writes from the racial realities of his own time while reaching back toward an African man living under the authority of Rome. Across those different worlds, he names a truth many still recognize: power often notices us when it needs someone to burden.
Then Simon looks at Jesus.
This is the turning point of the poem. Simon looks face to face and eye to eye with a man whose body has also been seized by the empire. Jesus is bruised, mocked, and dying. He is not the one who placed the cross upon Simon. He is suffering beneath the same violent power. That face-to-face encounter is an act of prayer. Simon does not kneel. He does not close his eyes. He does not speak words we are given to hear. He looks. He attends. He allows the suffering of another person to enter his consciousness. In that moment of attention, he discerns what Rome cannot tell him.
Rome can compel him to carry the cross. Rome cannot decide why he carries it.

The soldiers may control the circumstance, yet they cannot possess Simon’s spirit. They cannot command his compassion or create solidarity through force. Simon sees Jesus and makes a faithful choice from within a situation he did not choose.
He says: “I did for Christ alone what all of Rome could not have wrought with bruise of lash or stone.” Rome forced the cross upon his back. It could not force love into his heart. Rome could compel the action. It could not create the meaning Simon prayerfully gave to it.
This is spiritual autonomy. It does not mean that we are free from every circumstance. It means that the powers around us do not possess the final authority over our relationship with God, our recognition of one another, or our participation in what God is doing. Even when circumstances compel us, God preserves within us the capacity to pray, discern, and choose solidarity.
Simon steps into the redemptive movement of the cross. He does not redeem the violence of Rome. He joins Jesus within God’s work of redemption. His presence does not make the crucifixion right. His solidarity reveals that Rome cannot prevent compassion from appearing in the very place where it intended only humiliation and death.
This is the hope offered to us today. We may feel compelled by the suffering around us. We may feel pressed into responsibilities we did not seek. We may become weary of being the ones who are always expected to notice, respond, and carry. Prayer does not ask us to deny that weariness.
Prayer brings us face to face with God and eye to eye with one another so that we may discern how we will stand within the moment before us. Solidarity is not passive. It is the faithful choice to see another person fully and to refuse the distance that suffering can create between us. We may not be able to remove every burden. We can decide that no one within our reach will carry theirs unseen. We can step beside those who have been isolated, blamed, mocked, or condemned. We can allow prayer to lead us from awareness into participation.
Simon the Cyrenian reminds us that being compelled by circumstances does not leave us spiritually powerless. God gives us the autonomy to look, discern, and step prayerfully into God’s own work of redemption.
How might looking face to face and eye to eye become your prayer? And for what do you pray?