Carrying One Another's Burdens

“We are all just walking each other home.” — Ram Dass

Several years ago, a good friend's father passed away. Every time I asked how she was doing, she would smile politely and say, “I’m fine.” But one afternoon, as we sat together over coffee, she finally exhaled and said, “I’m not fine. I’m tired of pretending I am.”

The floodgates opened — tears, stories, silence. I didn’t have wisdom to offer, only presence. At one point, she said quietly, “It helps just to have someone hold the weight with me for a while.”

During my time in Clinical Pastoral Education as part of the chaplain team at Florida Hospital in Orlando, I recall our instructors emphasizing that our ministry was often described as a "Ministry of Presence."  

This meant that more often than not, we would be called upon to simply sit with people in their pain and help them, as my friend said, "hold the weight" of whatever they were burdened with.  

I learned that holding that weight often meant just being present, listening without saying much, or simply holding someone's hand as we prayed.  So often, I found myself struggling against the urge to do something, which was all about me, and less about the other.  

Helping to bear someone's burden can take many forms, but the willingness to do what someone needs most is all that is required to do it.    

That’s what Paul meant when he urged the Galatians to “bear one another’s burdens.” He wasn’t talking about solving each other’s problems; he was talking about solidarity. The law of Christ — the law of love — is fulfilled not by fixing, but by carrying.

We live in a culture that prizes independence, but the gospel calls us to interdependence. God never intended strength to mean self-sufficiency. Even Jesus, staggering under the cross, accepted help from Simon of Cyrene. The Son of God allowed Himself to be supported by human hands — a holy reminder that to receive help is not weakness, but humility.

When we carry one another’s burdens, something sacred happens. The load lightens, even if it doesn’t disappear. Grace circulates. Courage rekindles. Pain becomes shared, and therefore survivable.

Sometimes, carrying someone’s burden looks like a casserole or a phone call. Sometimes it’s showing up at the hospital or sitting in silence with a grieving friend. Sometimes it’s a prayer whispered on their behalf when they can’t pray themselves. And sometimes it’s allowing others to carry you. Love moves both ways.

In a world that tells us to mind our own business, the Spirit whispers, Bear one another’s burdens. This is the business of Christ. This is how the kingdom grows — not through perfection or power, but through shared compassion.

Prayer

God of compassion,
teach me to carry what others cannot hold alone.
Give me shoulders strong with mercy,
hands willing to serve,
and a heart tender enough to feel another’s pain.
When I grow weary, remind me
that You carry us all.
Bind us together in Your love
until none walk alone.
Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. Who in your life might need someone to help carry their burden right now?

2. How comfortable are you with allowing others to help carry your struggles?

3. What small act of solidarity could you offer this week — to lighten another’s load?