In Case You Missed It: July 6 Sermon
The Burden That Binds Us
Series: What Moves You? (Week 1: Compassion)
Texts: Galatians 6:1–16 / Luke 10:1–11
Dear Simsbury UMC family,
Today marks my first Sunday worship service with you. But it is more than the beginning of a new pastoral appointment—it is the beginning of a renewed journey of faith we take together. This summer, we begin with a single, searching question: “What moves you?”
This isn’t just a question of location—“Why am I here?” It is a confession of faith. Who truly guides our steps? What stirs us to live, to choose, to walk with purpose?
Today’s scriptures respond in two clear movements. In Luke, Jesus sends the seventy into the world. In Galatians, Paul calls the church to carry one another’s burdens. One sends us outward; the other draws us inward.
Both reveal the same heart: compassion. Not passive emotion, but a force that moves. The Hebrew rachamim—from the word rechem, “womb”—speaks of a fierce, protective love, like that of a mother for her child. The Greek splagchnizomai evokes the gut-level reaction of mercy—a love that twists our insides until we move. This compassion doesn’t stop at feeling; it moves hearts, hands, and feet. And when compassion moves, it creates a community where burdens are not ignored, but shared. It is not merely about what we do—it’s about who we become together.
1. Sent While Still Carrying Burdens (Luke 10:1–11)
Jesus sends the seventy disciples two by two—not as a tactic, but a theology. This mission is never meant to be done alone.
“The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest to send out workers.”
Why seventy? Some scholars see echoes of the seventy elders who helped Moses bear the weight of leadership—or of the seventy nations named in Genesis. Either way, this is a mission rooted in shared purpose and multiplied compassion.
Jesus, who had nowhere to lay his head, sends them into homes, into risk, into vulnerability. He tells them to carry no purse, no bag, no sandals. They go with nothing in their hands—but everything in their hearts.
They are not armed with arguments or authority. They are sent with peace. And that peace is meant to dwell, not just visit. “When you enter a house, say, ‘Peace to this house.’” If welcomed, stay. Eat. Drink. Be present.
Jesus doesn’t send experts—he sends neighbors. People willing to be moved by what they see and to respond with peace, presence, and perseverance.
The gospel doesn’t shout from afar—it pulls up a chair. It’s not just about proclamation; it’s about presence. This is compassion in motion: to walk into a stranger’s space with empty hands and an open heart.
2. A Church That Shares the Load (Galatians 6:1–16)
Paul writes:
“Carry one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” (6:2)
The law of Christ—his command to love one another—does not cancel the law. It fulfills it. This love becomes real when we carry what others cannot.
These burdens aren’t just external duties. They are weariness, disappointment, temptation, shame, depression, addiction, grief. Paul acknowledges that life is both shared and personal:
“Each must carry their own load.” (6:5)
There is a difference between a burden and a backpack. A backpack is what we are meant to carry—a calling, a role, a responsibility. A burden is what crushes us when carried alone. Paul isn’t contradicting himself—he’s teaching us to discern what is ours, and what is ours to carry together.
“Let us not grow weary in doing good… for at the right time we will reap a harvest.” (6:9)
Compassion doesn’t guarantee results. But it bears fruit. A single act of care can hold up an entire soul. Compassion is a seed planted in the soil of patient hope. And the harvest is not only in the future—it is already among us, in the healing, in the holding, in the tears shared.
Paul says:
“May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ…” (6:14)
The cross is not a symbol of pride, but of shared suffering. In the cross, Jesus doesn’t just take our sin—he takes our burdens. This is why compassion is not weakness, but resurrection power.
Paul ends the letter not with rules, but with a rule of life: a “new creation.” That’s what compassion does. It makes us new—not by erasing burdens, but by transforming how we carry them.
3. Sent and Rooted: The Two Wings of the Gospel
Luke’s disciples go out. Galatians’ believers hold each other. Mission and mutuality. Going and staying. The gospel breathes with both lungs.
“The gospel walks with compassion, and rests in compassion.”
It dares to approach, and remains to uphold. Not in words alone, but in nearness. The gospel doesn’t just speak—it sits beside.
We need both: a church that is willing to be sent into the unknown, and a church that knows how to stay long enough to carry one another’s pain. The gospel moves: outward in sending, inward in community. And compassion is the thread that ties both movements into one living story.
4. Grafted into the SUM Community: My Testimony
This movement of compassion through community isn’t theory. It is my story.
My spiritual journey began in Korea, at my home church: Jang Hang Korean Evangelical Holiness Church. That journey led me through communities and seasons into the United Methodist Church. I served as Student Pastor at Memorial UMC of Shandaken, was appointed as Provisional Elder at Windham-Hensonville and Ashland UMCs, and ordained an Elder at First UMC of Greenwich. Later, I served both New Life KUMC and FUMC of Greenwich before being appointed here, to SUM.
Each step was born of prayer and decision. Yet at every step, God’s guidance came through community:
A whispered prayer.
A word of encouragement.
A handwritten note.
A smile that held eye contact.
These moved me again and again. Even now, at SUM, I find myself welcomed into that same holy rhythm. I have been sent here as a pastor, yes—but more deeply, I have been received here by grace.
Already, in small gestures and quiet conversations, I have experienced the heart of Christ through you. That is the church: not a place where we only talk about Jesus, but where we experience the compassion of Jesus—together.
5. Today, We Ask Together
What moves you? Whose burden are you standing beside? Where might you take one more step this week?
Ask someone: “What can I carry with you?” Not as a savior—but as a sibling in Christ. Text someone. Let it say: “I see your burden. I’m near.” Write a name in your prayer journal. Lift them daily. Invite someone to eat with you. It might be more healing than you know.
Look around you. Someone near you is carrying something heavy. What would it mean to notice—not to fix, but to remain near?
This is the first step of compassion.
Hands that pray.
Feet that walk alongside.
Ears that stay to listen.
This is the gospel’s language.
When compassion binds us, the gospel comes alive.
The church becomes home again.
The burden that binds us—
It’s not what breaks us.
It’s grace.
It’s Christ.
And it is the sacred weight
that holds us
when we can no longer hold ourselves.
May we be that kind of church. Amen.
Sermon Reflection Questions:
1. When you hear the words “bear one another’s burdens,” who or what comes to mind first?
How does that memory connect with your own story or a place of need in your life?
2. Can you recall a time when someone helped carry a burden too heavy for you to bear alone?
What did that experience stir in you—and is there someone God may be calling you to walk alongside now?
3. How does the truth that God has first shown us compassion shape the way you live toward others today?
Where might grace be asking for a response?
4. Who are you walking with today as someone “sent” into the world—not alone, but in shared mission?
Or do you find yourself longing for someone to walk with you?