Carry each other's burdens

Simeon the Stylite was recognized as an early church father and is venerated as a saint in some Christian circles.  But he was a strange dude, for he equated personal severity with spiritual maturity.  The son of a shepherd, he joined a monastery at age 16 but was soon dismissed because his commitment to austerity was so extreme it threatened community life.  For instance, one year he went the entire season of Lent—almost six weeks—without eating or drinking anything.  We’ve all heard about fasting and giving up something for Lent, but he took it to the extreme!  On a number of occasions, he stood upright for days on end—not sitting or laying down but remaining upright as long as his legs would sustain him.  I don’t know what point he was trying to prove, but he somehow believed doing these outlandish things demonstrated his devotion to God.

But what Simeon is most remembered for is, during his early adult years, discovering a pillar about 10-15 feet high among some ruins near a village located at the edge of the North Arabian Desert in modern-day Syria.  At the top of this pillar was a small platform, and he determined that’s where he’d live out his life.  So, for the next 37 years he did, enduring the heat of summers and the cold of winters and having food brought to him by people from the nearby village.  Although his undertaking created quite a bit of buzz, he explained he was simply a Christian who wanted to commune with God in solitude, free from the hindrance of worldly distractions. Living on top of this pillar was his way of trying to do this.

While Simeon is an extreme example, he represents a mindset a number of us hold … that the measure of our devotion to God is found in the notoriety of the things we do for Him—the more remarkable and extraordinary, the more elevated the level of our devotion.  For some of us, it may be reading thru the Bible cover to cover during the calendar year … or having a stellar record of church attendance.  Not that there’s anything wrong with reading the Bible or being consistent in our church involvement—these are good things … beneficial things … hopefully growth-promoting and growth-inducing things!  But this kind of thinking—that our performance is the measure of how God evaluates our devotion to Him—is flawed.  For it’s at odds with what the Bible teaches—in particular, what the writers of the epistles passed along to Jesus’ earliest followers.  For they said the measure of our devotion had nothing to do with the things we do in hopes of impressing God and others.  Their message is that the measure of our faith is about living life in community—how we interact with people is the barometer of our spiritual maturity.  When it comes to assessing the level of our devotion to Him, God takes His cues off of how we relate to our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Nowhere is this sentiment more clearly articulated than in Galatians 6:2 where it says, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you’ll fulfill the law of Christ.”  But, to fully understand the point the apostle Paul is trying to make—what it means to “carry each other’s burdens” and what the Lord is wanting us to do—we need to understand the surrounding context.  So here’s the verse in context. 

Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.  Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently. But watch yourselves, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. If anyone thinks they are something when they are not, they deceive themselves. Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else, for each one should carry their own load. (Galatians 5:26-6:5)

One of the clear takeaways from this passage is that Paul assumes the Christian life is to be lived out in relationship with other people.  Even though Christianity is, at its core, a personal relationship, it’s not meant to be a private faith.  Our faith in Jesus is meant to be lived out in connection to others; if we have Jesus as our father we’ll have His church as our mother.  We will be a part of a community of brothers and sisters who are on the same journey.

Something else that’s clear from his words is that, at times, living life in relationship with others is going to be challenging.  That’s why he said in 5:26, “Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.”  Why?  Because these are temptations we’re going to face along the way.  In the course of living life in relationship with other people, we’re going to be tempted to look at some of them and think we’re better than them … or do something to needle them and get under their skin when they irritate us … or envy what they have, or that talent they’ve been given, or their professional success.  Being in meaningful relationship with others can be a very demanding and messy thing.

And lets face it … people have problems!  Everyday life presents us any number of things that have the potential to trip us up and cause us to lose our footing.  All of us are wired in ways to where certain impulses and triggers have the potential to make us stumble and fall.  And when it happens, those of us that claim to belong to God’s family can’t turn our back on that person that’s taken a nosedive and say, “You know, that’s too bad!  But their problems aren’t my problems.”  Granted, we’re not supposed to be invasive busybodies—annoying meddlers who insert ourselves into situations and interfere in ways that are unwelcome and unwanted.  But we are to be available and, from a place of humility, offer what we can to those who are going through tough times.  We’re a family and we’re to care for others as we would members of our own family.

“Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently.” (Galatians 6:1).  The word “caught” there has the connotation of something that catches us off guard and takes us by surprise—something that blindsides us and we didn’t see coming.  Paul is not referring to the recalcitrant and hard-hearted person who is defiant in their sin and has no interest in living a life that pleases God.  He’s referring to the person who finds themselves ambushed by something from out of the blue that left them in a place they never thought they’d be.  

To be sure, sometimes when we find ourselves in a difficult place, we can look back and recognize how we chose our way there—how a series of not necessarily immoral but definitely unwise choices contributed to us being where we are.  But sometimes, those difficulties are like stepping on a mound of fire ants or stumbling on to a wasp’s nest by mistake.   It’s to this kind of person Paul is referring.  And what he’s saying is, “Rather than being arrogant … or irritating towards … or envious of others, look out for each other.  And rather than shaming or being judgmental toward that person that finds him/herself in a difficult circumstance, in tenderness and compassion seek to restore him/her.  Don’t look away when we see someone that is struggling and stuck. Nor should you put your arm around them and wallow in the ditch, feeling bad for them while discussing at great length all the reasons why they got there. Help them get back on their feet and start moving forward.  Step forward and offer what you can—help, advice, challenge, support, encouragement—and look for ways to restore them.

But if we’re going to do this, we need to be in a helpful, healthy place ourselves.  We need to keep our own affairs in order and monitor the condition of our soul.  For we’re not a cut above anyone else—sanctimonious, self-righteous, finger-pointing folks that are annoying as all get out.  Nor are we a superhero—the spiritual equivalent of Mighty Mouse who has “come to save the day”.  If that’s our thinking, we’re deceiving ourselves according to Galatians 6:3.  We need to be mindful that we’re as susceptible and as open to falling as anyone—that we’re just as likely to end up at the same place.  But we also need to make sure we don’t do anything unwise to unnecessarily drag them down in the process.

 Then Paul shares something that, on the surface of it, sounds like he’s talking out of both sides of his mouth.  He says in v. 5, “For each one should carry their own load.”  It’s a statement, when you first hear it, that’s a bit confusing.  For it sounds like he’s saying, “When it comes to others, their problems are your problems and you should be willing to help. But when it comes to yourself, you need to carry yourself in such a way to where you don’t need anyone’s help.” 

What helps us make sense of what Paul is saying is the realization that the word for “load” in v. 5 is a completely different word than the word for “burdens” in v. 2.  The word in v. 5 was a common term for a soldier’s pack—a load a person could easily carry.  But the word “burdens” in v. 2 referred to a crushing weight—a load so heavy it made your knees buckle.  What Paul is saying is that loving others involves letting a measure of the weight become our weight—making their problems our problems, not in an unwelcome or intrusive way but in a supportive and encouraging one.  But we must also keep watch over our own affairs so we’re in a position to help and not add to their stress and misery in the process.

The church is meant to be a community where we’re all siblings and share a common Father … a place where we’re all being restored by a common Savior … a realm where we’re all seeking to assist, support, and restore each other.  And how does that happen?  By “carrying each other’s burdens” … stooping down and reaching out to those that are hurting and gently doing what we can to help them shoulder the load—not being censorious and harsh, but being kind-hearted and gracious because we realize we’re just as vulnerable and prone to slip up as they are.  By doing this, Paul says, we will “fulfill the law of Christ.”  And what is the “law of Christ”?  It’s the standard Jesus articulated in John 13:34-35 when, in speaking to his disciples in the Upper Room, he indicated he had a new benchmark that was to characterize their lives.  “A new command I give you: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples if you love one another.”  As we carry our brother’s and sister’s burdens—as we come alongside our sibling who has fallen and try to help them get up, dust themselves off, get back on track and start heading down the path—we are doing what Jesus implored us to do.

What Paul is reminding us of is that the key indicator of the depth of our commitment to Christ is not found in how much theology we know, or how quickly we can locate a particular Bible verse, or the nature and level of our spiritual gifts.  The measure of our devotion to Jesus is not found in the rigidity of our lifestyle, or the intensity of our dedication to various “rules”, or the record of our giving to the local church.  People who are real deal are the gentle ones—not folks who minimize and whitewash what someone else has done, but folks that are gentle and kind in their dealings with their brothers and sisters—especially whose who’ve been caught off guard and become snared.  The tenderness of our response is the measure of our devotion to Jesus.  For think about it—you can’t restore someone who is fallen without gentleness.  It simply is not possible!

In this day of deep division and extreme dissension where people often speak in nasty and spiteful terms and relate to each other in harsh and mean-spirited ways, may we be people of kindness and humility committed to offering compassionate and practical help to others who’ve been sucker punched by life, lost their footing, and find themselves stranded and stuck.  This is what it means to carry each other’s burdens and, in so doing, fulfill the law of Christ.

Carried into exile

A Counterintuitive Invitation