The “alleylon” (one another) passages in the New Testament, Part 5b:

Bear each others’ burdens, and so you will fulfill the law of Christ (Gal. 6:2)

Carrying stuff is one of those near-universal experiences of the human race, exempting only the fabulously wealthy who hire or force others to assume the drudgery of burden bearing or those without the physical means to lift even the smallest weight. During my time of recovery from shoulder surgery, my load-bearing limitations have forced me to rethink tasks like reaching a shelf with more than one plate in hand, something that I would have done reflexively and without an instant’s inconvenience. I briefly considered practicing traditional African methods of using my head, but realized that even if I could master the skill, being less than 6’5″ meant that shelves were still out of range.

My failure to raise anything more than a few pounds more than a few feet seems to analogize well for what we run into in our attempts to fulfill Paul’s exhortation to bear each others’ burdens. As I face my too-weak shoulders and the too-high cabinets, I begin to picture myself being held up in the arms of Christ in the same way that I used to lift my children so that they could see above the big people around them or pluck something from the high places. As adults, I wonder if you and I experience the same joy at our divinely-assisted stature that our sons and daughters do.

If I am returning to and belaboring the point that I was making last week, it’s only because it seems so obviously critical to our ability to serve each other in the freedom that the Father wants to provide for us. The Hollies might have sung that “he ain’t heavy,” but I don’t know what kind of lifting they were really talking about. I can only say for myself that if I don’t surrender to strength that comes from Jesus and the Spirit, I will quickly find my limits in terms of how willing I am to spend myself; whom I will select as beneficiaries; and how much I will be able to accomplish. There will be various and sundry reasons (OK, excuses) that keep me from bearing your burdens. Maybe the resistance will lie in my own character. I might succumb to laziness, self-preoccupation, pride or arrogance about you or your need.  Or perhaps something in you will be the problem, at least from my perspective. Are you close enough to my position on the political spectrum? Have you shown yourself worthy by demonstrating your own efforts? Have you every offended or excluded or slighted me? Any one of a number of faults might turn me into the Priest or Levite crossing the road to avoid the man dying on the other side.

Or – and this is probably equally unfruitful – I will be entirely undiscriminating in my carrying choices, lifting more than I ought, failing to listen to the Spirit’s leading, unaware of how the Lord is moving and what he is asking me to bear. Either way, whether ungenerous Levite or undiscerning Martha, others suffer when we are determining our own carrying capacity.

This is all excellent theory that counts for little without corresponding practice. And the intersection of concept and application comes only when we are aware of how we are responding to the call to bear others’ burdens. Am I prone to passing by and leaving you to struggle with your load? God’s word comes to convict me and reveal my condition. Or he shows me his generous Samaritans who stop and stoop to offer themselves to the ones who have fallen under their encumbrance. The questions are, am I listening? Am I watching? Am I convictable? The Father wants to slow me in my self-serving course, to have me stop and look at the need, to hold out my weak and empty hands so that he can strengthen them to lift up 

There are similar questions that apply to the compulsive helper, the Marthas among us. Are we (well, are you, since I’m more the passer-by type) rushing from one disaster to another, taking on the woes and weight of every fallen comrade so that we feel better about our hard work? Like Martha, ready to chide Jesus and everyone else within earshot when we think they aren’t paying enough attention to us, “Jesus, don’t you care?” His rebuke of the seemingly noble laborer is shocking, but perfect in its aim.

By stopping to surrender to the Spirit’s correction as he either inclines us to serve where we are disinclined or settles us into serving only where he wants us to, we are better equipped to fulfill this “alleylon” passage. God’s burdens appear before us, which means that we will be able to find what we need to bear them. Burdens, of course, come in many species of various sizes, shapes, and degrees of complexity. Some are rather concrete, others more abstract. So think of one example of the former: financial need. You or I might see a brother or sister, a couple or family laboring under a burden of debt. One of us (I’ll let you do the assignation) is wont to cross to the other side from where we very strictly analyze the situation. Are they worthy? Responsible enough? Where will they end up using my largesse? What will this do to my financial standing? These might even be reasonable questions, but perhaps the Lord would like them to come second, rather than first. Father, how do you see this person, and what is your call on my life, which includes the material goods that are your gift to me?

The other of us is more likely to run straightway to the cash box, ready to empty it without a moment’s counting. Samaritans are Us. Stupid Priest, idiot Levite; why didn’t they stop to help the way I am. No thought to whether my generosity is serving God’s purpose in their life; no discernment of whether I should subject what the Lord has given me to the waste of someone who will find the worst possible use for it; no consideration of what consequences might attend my self-motivated and self-serving activity. The impulse to generosity appears so unimpeachably godly, and yet there are serious points of weakness that emerge on further investigation.

Other burdens are much more abstract, inward, even mysterious. There is the weight of suffering, of spiritual pain, of psychological dysfunction that people carry. Again, our different proclivities arise from the encounter with human necessity, either an aversion to take up the messiness that besets even God’s children or an unheeding, headlong rush to play savior hero. In the midst of our confronting life from our different points of strength and weakness, the word of God challenges us: Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.

Yikes! Are we really going to end with this line? Someone should have pointed out the Law thing a long time ago. Well, yes we will end with that line, but I won’t leave it alone. Next week we can tackle this whole Law of Christ conundrum, and see if we can use faith to make more sense of it.

Until then, happy schlepping!