Carry the Weight

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July 7, 2013

Galatians 6:1-16

¹My friends, if anyone is detected in a transgression, you who have received the Spirit should restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness. Take care that you yourselves are not tempted. ²Bear one another's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. ³For if those who are nothing think they are something, they deceive themselves. ⁴All must test their own work; then that work, rather than their neighbor's work, will become a cause for pride. ⁵For all must carry their own loads.

⁶Those who are taught the word must share in all good things with their teacher.

⁷Do not be deceived; God is not mocked, for you reap whatever you sow. ⁸If you sow to your own flesh, you will reap corruption from the flesh; but if you sow to the Spirit, you will reap eternal life from the Spirit. ⁹So let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest-time, if we do not give up. ¹⁰So then, whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all, and especially for those of the family of faith.

¹¹See what large letters I make when I am writing in my own hand! ¹²It is those who want to make a good showing in the flesh that try to compel you to be circumcised-only that they may not be persecuted for the cross of Christ. ¹³Even the circumcised do not themselves obey the law, but they want you to be circumcised so that they may boast about your flesh. ¹⁴May I never boast of anything except the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. ¹⁵For neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything; but a new creation is everything! ¹⁶As for those who will follow this rule-peace be upon them, and mercy, and upon the Israel of God.

Sermon:  “Carry the Weight”

I love airports.  I know, I know, they’re loud, stressful and a cup of coffee costs $6.  But I love them because they allow me to do one of my favorite activities: people watch.  If people watching was an Olympic sport, it would be held in airports. 

There are all sorts of folks wandering this way and that in search of a seat near an electrical outlet or a Starbucks.  And this great variety of people all have one thing in common.  Do you know what it is?  (Other than inevitable air travel.) Everyone is wheeling or carrying a bag.  Everyone. 

The grandmother in a floral cardigan carries a Vera Bradley quilted bag.  The businessman in khakis has a well-worn leather suitcase with wheels.  The middle-aged woman with white plastic platform go-go boots on has a pink glittery case.  Even the toddler in his pajamas pulls along a tiny Spiderman suitcase behind him.  Everyone has baggage.

A disembodied voice comes over the intercom every fifteen minutes to give an important message to all of us people with bags, saying, “The Federal Aviation Administration reminds you that unattended baggage can be regarded as a threat to national security.  Never leave your bag unattended or allow anyone else to hold it for you.”

And we listen, y’all.  We clutch our bags like they are full of gold and not old clothes.  We wheel them awkwardly into miniscule bathroom stalls; we suspiciously eye the airport employee gate checking bags to assess whether or not he will steal it; we endlessly try to stuff them into an overhead bins above our seats they can’t possibly fit into.  Oh, yes.  We listen to that voice.

But it doesn’t just speak in the airport.  We allow that voice to tell us that the baggage of others is a threat to us in other places as well. 

We listen to this voice when we avoid eye contact with the sopping wet man trying to sell newspapers in downtown Southern Pines, because we feel guilty to be driving by in a dry, comfortable car while he stands there, day after day.

We listen to this voice when we refer to a certain part of town as a “rough area” even though we’ve never been there and can’t name a single person who lives there, because it happens to be a neighborhood full of people with a different color skin than us.

We listen to this voice when we hear that a friend is hurting and pull away from them to “give them space to heal” rather than doing what they need most, which is sitting down beside them in their sorrow.

We listen to this voice when hear horrific stories on the news of fires and shootings and then quickly distract ourselves with something more upbeat and entertaining.

We listen to this voice when we clutch to our baggage of regret, worry or anger as if it were priceless, never allowing another person to see it, much less touch it or carry some of it for us.

We listen to this voice because deep down, in the core of our frightened souls, we believe that the troubles of another are a threat to our own sense of security.  If we open the floodgates of compassion, will we lose ourselves?  Will the sorrows of the world weigh us down?  It is better to just keep our baggage of pain zipped up tight, and encourage others to do the same.  It’s better to just carry our own weight around, and no one else’s.

Except that it’s not.  The author of the letter to the Galatians says that we are to, “bear one another’s burdens and in this way fulfill the law of Christ.”  But then he seems to contradict himself a few sentences later, saying, “For all must carry their own load.”

Oh, we like to adhere to that second statement, while quietly ignoring the first.  The fabric of the world (when woven by those with wealth) is made of that statement.  We have a lot of different ways of saying it: “Every man for himself; Pull yourself up by your bootstraps; Meet your needs first, then you can meet the needs of others.”  But though we try to use this verse to justify our preferred lifestyle, it doesn’t allow us to.

You see, the writer of this letter used two different words here.  When he wrote, “bear one another’s burdens”, that word “burden” means heaviness, trouble, weight.  He’s literally saying, “carry the weight of one another.” 

In that second statement, when he said, “all must carry their own load,” the Greek word for load is “phortion.”  What English word does that sound like?  Portion.  We are to carry the weight of each other while at the same time carrying the portion that is our own.

We fulfill the law of Christ – which is to love God and love our neighbor as ourselves – by bearing the burdens of another, no matter what portion we might be carrying around ourselves.  We do not wait until the load is lifted off of us to hold the load of another.  It is actually in carrying the weight of another’s pain that our own portion becomes easier to bear.

Now, I’m not advocating that the next time you’re in an airport, y’all start grabbing people’s bags and shouting, “I’m carrying your baggage, God told me to!”  That would surely put you in a scary room with no windows, and I doubt you would make your flight. 

But I am suggesting an alternative voice speaking to us, one that is quite the opposite of that disembodied voice calling us to protect ourselves against all costs.  It is the voice of God.  And that voice is saying, “I know you have a portion of pain you are carrying around.  But so does everyone else.  It will go much easier for all of you if you will carry someone else’s weight, too.”

God’s voice says this because God knows what lies beneath that deepest of insecurities in our souls that feels threatened by the troubles of another person.  It is fear.  But not just any fear.  It is the fear that we are all alone in this world.  That those around us are seeking to bring us harm and manipulate us.  That giving some of our load to another to carry means they might take advantage of us.  That we are the only person feeling weighed down. 

There is only one way to assuage that fear: loosening our grip on our own baggage that we might hold someone else’s.  Embracing the vulnerability of looking another person in the eyes and smiling, making friends in a neighborhood where we are uncomfortable, loving one another enough to pull closer in times of sorrow rather than pulling away, meeting the needs of our neighbors before our own, and inviting them to celebrate being a part of God’s neighborhood here on Saturday.

God’s voice calls us to carry one another’s weight.  But we don’t have to.  We can continue listening to that voice telling us to be afraid and stumble along with our heavy, awkward burdens all on our own.  But we will not be fulfilling the law of Christ or working for the good of all, and we will not become the new creation we are invited to be.  It is our choice: which voice will we listen to? 

I hope we will choose to listen to the voice of God over the voice of fear.  I hope we will risk our own independence and pride enough to let someone else carry a bit of our weight, and to carry some of theirs as well.  As you discern how God might be calling you to a new journey of burden bearing for others, listen and pray the words of this song, called “Carry the Weight” by Denison Witmer. 

(See video of song here.)

Amen.