BEAR WITH, CONTEND FOR
"Is kissing a sin?" I asked my mom directly, curious and a bit nervous.
"Who are you trying to kiss?" she shot back without missing a beat.
Laughing, I assured her I had no one specific in mind, but repeated my question, pressing for a clear answer.
“There’s no scripture that says, ‘Do not kiss,’” she replied. “But that’s not really the right question. A better question is: Is this pleasing to God and loving to my neighbor?”
At sixteen, with a budding curiosity about my own body and others, I thought a kiss would certainly be “loving” to my neighbor. My mom, somehow reading my thoughts, continued.
“Loving your neighbor isn’t about kissing and heavy petting,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If your actions lead someone to lust—and if lust is a sin—then that isn’t really loving your neighbor.”
I can’t say I fully understood what she was getting at, but she planted an idea in my mind about responsibility to others in the body of Christ. As I got older, these conversations evolved. On one of the last times I was going out, she came down the hall, pausing in the doorway with her robe bunched between her fingers.
“What are you doing going out?” she asked, eyeing me.
With an exasperated sigh, I responded, “Can’t you just say I look good?”
“You look good,” she said with a smile, “but what are you doing going out?”
“It’s not a sin to go out,” I shot back.
“You’re past that stage in your walk, so let’s not play. Is this pleasing God?”
By the time my ride arrived, I was frustrated and thinking about God—hardly the mood for twerking and drinking with my friends. But I went anyway. At that point, the idea of responsibility to other believers felt like a burden I didn’t want to carry. I wanted to wear whatever I wanted without considering how it might affect others. I wanted to drink whenever and with whomever I wanted without thinking about its impact on their walk. I wanted to play my own music in my car without worrying if it reflected my faith.
There was a pride there, if I’m honest. I thought, I’m saved (or so I believed at the time), and other people would find Jesus when they were ready. It wasn’t my job to shape my entire life around helping others find Him. I was just a girl trying to live a mostly saved life.
“Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” Galatians 6:2 [esv]
Consumed with my own burdens, I rarely considered how my actions affected others. In my arrogance, I assumed that my coming to know God was a result of my own intellect and effort. But with time and God’s grace, I realized that my relationship with Him was shaped by the witness and example of other believers.
It started with my parents. Drinking alcohol isn’t a sin, but they chose not to drink around us growing up, showing us that enjoyment, relaxation, and coping with life’s hardships could all be achieved without it. They could have listened to any music they liked, yet they chose feel-good, meaningful songs that made us curious about Christ and His goodness. And it wasn’t just my parents; my sister, older cousins, college leaders, and campus ministers all played a role. They considered my understanding of God and where I was in my walk, and they revealed Christ to me in ways that drew me closer to Him.
When we dig deeper into Galatians 6:2 we find that bear means to put upon one's self (something) to be carried while burden means troublesome moral faults. This isn’t merely a suggestion; it’s a call for believers to carry the moral struggles of others. Bearing someone’s burdens goes beyond babysitting their children when they need a break or offering money in times of hardship. It means being mindful of how we exercise our freedom when someone struggles with comparison or jealousy. It means choosing our conversations carefully around those who struggle with gossip or insecurity. It means being intentional with how we present ourselves around believers who might battle with lust or envy.
The body of Christ functions best when its members are well and whole. Another believer’s burden should become my burden. Their struggle with unforgiveness should be felt as if it were my own. Why? Because when one part of the body suffers, the entire body suffers [1 Corinthians 12:26]. If one part isn’t fully functioning due to sin, the whole body feels its impact. Our response can’t be limited to “I’ll keep you in my prayers” or a quick “thinking of you” comment. True care calls for active, intentional support that uplifts and strengthens the entire body.
“And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” 2 corinthians 3:18 [esv]
There is no ambiguity in how God calls us to interact with unbelievers: we are to bear the image of Christ, witness through our actions, and at times proclaim God’s glory verbally. Still, the lack of intimacy or connection with them can limit the depth to which we bear their burdens. Conversely, with fellow believers—especially those in our immediate community—we hold a unique position to bear their burdens and actively contend for their faith and salvation in ways God has specifically entrusted to us. Let’s explore, through scripture, examples of burden-bearing among believers and how God continues to call us to this shared responsibility.
Romans 14:13-15 [ESV] “Therefore let us not pass judgment on one another any longer, but rather decide never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of a brother. I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself, but it is unclean for anyone who thinks it unclean. For if your brother is grieved by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love. By what you eat, do not destroy the one for whom Christ died.”
What should our attitude be towards our brothers and sisters in Christ?
Deep consideration. Stumbling blocks are specific to the person. What causes me to stumble and what causes my sister or brother to stumble doesn’t have to be the same. Still, as a believer, it is apart of my responsibility to be informed and to be considerate of what causes the people around me to stumble. Practical example: A friend is convicted by listening to all secular music and I am not. In order to love her as myself [which I am commanded to do], I should not listen to that music around her.
Deep intimacy. I should know the stumbling blocks, level of faith, and grievances of the believers in my community. These things are only learned through intimate connections and relationships. You can’t love people well on the surface.
Deep humility. We are called to view our freedom through the lens of service. Though we may have the freedom to do as we please [1 Corinthians 10:23], this liberty is not for self-centered gain. Instead, it’s an invitation to humble ourselves, adopt the attitude of a servant, and prioritize the needs of others over our own desires.
Deep awareness. Stumbling blocks and hinderances aren’t a small thing. They can lead people into sin or bondage that impacts their ability to hear, seek, and know God. What we do isn’t solely about us. People can live or die by what they witness us do or hear us say. It is so so so important.
Romans 14:21-23 [AMP] “It is good [to do the right thing and] not eat meat or drink wine, or do anything that offends your brother and weakens him spiritually. The faith which you have [that gives you freedom of choice], have as your own conviction before God [just keep it between yourself and God, seeking His will]. Happy is he who has no reason to condemn himself for what he approves. But he who is uncertain [about eating a particular thing] is condemned if he eats, because he is not acting from faith. Whatever is not from faith is sin [whatever is done with doubt is sinful].
What do we learn about how to bear with one another?
We should care about what offends them. We know that offenses, confusion in faith, and weakened spirituality can lead to sin and sin left unchecked leads to death. Our actions should always be leading people to life.
What do we learn about convictions?
Convictions are personal. There is a universal standard of living for every believer, rooted in scripture and applicable to us all. However, as we each grow in our personal walks with God, we may find that certain actions, while not labeled sinful in scripture, can become sin for us in our unique relationship with Him. For instance, I can’t drink alcohol at all. Personally, there’s a history of alcoholism and addictive tendencies in my family, and I know myself—I won’t stop at one glass or one beer; I’ll have five. Recognizing this, I’ve chosen to make alcohol a sin for me.
Not adhering to our convictions is sinful. I am aware of the type of spirit, thoughts, actions, and music that accompanies my consumption of alcohol. So again, using my freedom to drink would be sinful for me because of what drinking would lead me to. Convictions can be based on personal weaknesses, generational curses, current knowledge and understanding of God—all deeply personal aspects of our faith walk.
1 Corinthians 3:6-9 “I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The one who plants and the one who waters have one purpose, and they will each be rewarded according to their own labor. For we are co-workers in God’s service; you are God’s field, God’s building.”
What is a part of our duty to others?
To be co-workers in God’s service. God is constantly calling people to Himself through the knowledge and acceptance of Christ, and we are invited to be co-laborers in this mission. Our role isn’t one we choose but one that adapts to the needs of others and God’s direction—sometimes it’s interceding, sometimes encouraging, extending mercy, or even offering correction. In all of it, we are surrendering our freedom to pursue things our way, choosing instead to serve for the sake of others and the Kingdom.
To do our specific assignment. In a natural sense, the labor involved in planting—like clearing the site, digging holes, and scattering seeds—requires a different set of skills than watering, which includes identifying roots, checking soil moisture, monitoring for dryness, and consistently watering based on specific needs. Similarly, in our spiritual lives, we don’t get to choose whether we’re the planter or the waterer in someone’s journey. Nor do we decide how the work of planting or watering will impact us personally. Each role carries its own unique demands and contributions, tailored to our individual gifts and assignments, yet both are essential to the growth ultimately brought to fruition by God.
“Let love be without hypocrisy. abhor what is evil. cling to what is good. be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love, in honor giving preference to one another;” romans 12:9-11 [nkjv].
I'm learning, as I hope all of you are, how little life is really about us. The family I was born into, the friendships gained and lost, cousins I connect with daily or cheer on from afar—they’ve all been planting and watering my garden my entire life. Their experiences, wisdom, heartbreak, and resilience have, without my realizing it, been for my benefit. Similarly, my parents’ suffering and blessings, my husband and our shared journey through loss, past relationships and trials, have allowed me to plant seeds for some of you and water the faith of others. Initially, I assumed it was all about me, wondering how each lesson would serve me or how each heartbreak would protect me from repeating mistakes. But I’ve had it all wrong. Everything that happens—anything that makes me more like Jesus—equips me to be a better vessel for God to work through.
I won’t go so far as to say I’d hang on a cross for people, but I will say that God is giving me His eyes to see and His heart to love. For every harsh word or thoughtless action, every betrayal or offense, there is someone in pain who may not yet know the love of Christ. Imagine the pain and isolation for those who haven’t encountered Jesus as Lord. Consider the weight of shame and guilt a new believer might experience after stumbling or the freedom they’ve yet to experience because they lack understanding. Carrying our cross means bearing the burdens of others, even when it’s inconvenient. It means dying to ourselves—putting aside our desires to serve and uplift those around us. Carrying our cross means bearing the weight of the assignment and the call God has placed on our lives. God is always working for the hearts of His creation, and as co-heirs with Christ, also committed to His will, so should we.
