Don’t Carry It All

Galatians 6:1-10
Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

Hello, again. I’m Pastor Sam, or Sam is just fine. I want to begin by thanking everyone who has made me feel welcome so far, everyone who sent me a card to celebrate my recent graduation from seminary, and those who I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting. I also want to take a moment to say a special welcome to my parents, who are taking a week off from my dad’s church to be here, and my brother who is visiting as well. My fiance, Anna, is here, as are her parents and sisters. My own sister couldn’t be here today, since she just moved to New Jersey yesterday to start at Drew Theological School, but I’m pretty sure she’s watching the livestream. I know that some information has already gone out in the newsletter about who I am and how I got here, and as we spend more time together you’ll get to learn more about me and I’ll get to learn more about all of you. But if there’s one thing that you should know right off the bat, it’s that being a Methodist is a big part of who I am and how I have chosen to live out my call to ministry. There are a lot of things I love about Methodism, but one of the things I love the most is that, at its core, Methodism is all about connection.

That’s what made Methodism special in the first place. John Wesley, one of the founders of the Methodist Movement, was not a systematic theologian like John Calvin. He was much more concerned with how people were living their lives than he was about explaining away every mystery there is. Wesley’s greatest contribution to the Methodist Movement, besides his theology of Grace which we’ll talk about another time, was how he organized people. He didn’t start churches, he started societies and class meetings. He started communities that would hold one another accountable for their transgressions and ask each other each week “how is it with your soul today?” When was the last time you asked someone how it is with their soul? When was the last time someone asked you? That’s how Methodist society leaders would begin each meeting: by asking the gathered community how it is with their souls, and the community was supposed to respond “it is well with my soul.” Can we try that right now together? Let's do it: How is it with your soul today? Then they would ask the harder question: “what sins have you committed this week?” I won’t make you answer that—this time.

But that’s not all they would do together. These societies and class meetings would be places of social action. For almost three hundred years, Methodists have been collecting money for the poor and fixing homes for those in need. We’ve been feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and visiting those who are sick and in prison. We’ve been providing education—not just the Christian kind! — when public access to education has been restricted and made accessible only to the very wealthy. Since the beginning, the whole point of the Methodist movement has been to build communities that supported one another—whether that be materially, spiritually, emotionally, or politically. To be a part of a Methodist community meant, and ought to mean, supporting one another as we travel this road together.

When the Apostle Paul writes his letter to the community gathered at Galatia, this is what he calls them to. He calls them to be accountable to and for one another. He calls them to bear one another’s burdens. I’m not interested in being some charismatic cult leader. I’m not interested in “do as I say, not as I do.” I’m not interested in sitting up in my office while all the action is happening elsewhere. I’m not even interested in being right all the time, because I know that I won’t be. What I am interested in, is building and revealing connections between and amongst us. What I am interested in, is living together as a community of people that cares about one another enough to share our whole selves, to share our resources, and to share our burdens. I’m interested in getting my hands dirty—and I hope you are, too. Because this is what we are called to: to bear one another’s burdens and see God in each person we meet. 

We live in a world that is hurting. We live in a lonely world that longs for greater connection. And we live in a world that is repeatedly facing new challenges to connection. Just this past week, our federal government passed an obscene piece of legislation that will drive millions deeper into poverty, leave millions without any access to healthcare, and make our communities less safe by funneling over 160 billion more dollars into immigration and customs enforcement. And that’s just what made the headlines this week. My friends, there are plenty of burdens to go around. Some weigh on us more than others. But Christ does not send us out alone. He sends us out, as our Gospel this morning reminds us, in pairs. He sends us out, telling us to be totally reliant on one another. And he never promises that everything we do will pan out just the way we want it to. And he certainly never says that it’ll be easy. But the only way that we might even come close to realizing the Kingdom of God in our midst, is by leaning on one another. By sharing our burdens, so that none of us carries it all.

I’m not going to make any promises about what this community will look like in a year, or five, or ten. I haven’t really gotten to know you yet. I haven’t had a chance to hear your passions, to learn who it is for whom your heart breaks. Whatever we become, though, whatever we do, wherever we go—may we do so together, holding each other tenderly, and bearing one another’s burdens. And, I just want to be perfectly clear—this goes both ways here. I will share your burdens if you will share mine. I will hold you accountable with grace if you will do the same for me. I will be mindful and protective of your need to rest and take time apart if you will do the same for me. I know I’m young but hey, I get tired too, ya know? I will challenge you to think and act if you will do the same for me. And I will share in your joy, your sorrow, your pain, and your journey, if you will join in mine.  

We are here to serve together, connected by the Spirit and called to a particular way of life. It may not make sense in a world that prefers us isolated and self-sufficient. But that is who we are called to be—an interdependent, vulnerable, burden-sharing community of faith. So let us dream Kingdom dreams together. Let us be honest with one another. Let us grow together into who God is inviting us to be. Amen.