Packing is a skillset in the military as the job requires readiness and mobility. Most of us pride ourselves on how much we can smash into a backpack or a roller bag. I’m currently in an exercise that required 6 days of gear. The recommendation was a roller bag with multiple uniforms, linens, pillows, etc. I packed light, disregarded much of the packing list and got everything into one mid-size backpack. My motivation was simple, I hate dragging around a bunch of heavy bags—at this point in my career, all the un-essentials must go. A light pack is invaluable, comfort is not.
On this exercise, many of my fellow Airmen were required to bring extra gear pertinent to their jobs, some had up to three large rollers. Unplanned and all of a sudden, my two empty hands became assets. While unintentional, my light packing enabled some heavy lifting for my guys. As we transitioned our gear multiple times, I reflected on the utility of packing light for myself and others, the satisfaction of being a help to my Airmen, and the need to be more intentional about this type of posture.
While we cannot alter how much we are able to carry, we can determine what we will carry. By minimizing our load, we save strength for our neighbor. The nimble warrior is most prepared to shoulder the weight of those next to him. This principle stretches beyond the physical domain. Listen to the author of Hebrews, “since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us” (Heb 12:1).
The author commends spiritual agility as he calls his hearers to strip off everything that would hinder them.[1] Notably, he identifies two separate categories: weight and sin. Sin entangles and burdens us, leaving us ineffective.[2] Nothing new here, we know this. However, it is worth reflecting on the second and third order effects of our sin, primarily how it impacts those we are called to serve. Sins of commission cannot be separated from those of omission, one naturally leads to the other—they are two sides of the same coin.
The second category of “weight” is instructive, it shows us that there are plenty of amoral things that make us slow and unhelpful. Anything that impedes speed, endurance, and competitive edge is a weight. One commentator states, “we would have to list all the possessions that could tempt them to avoid the sort of suffering that following in the path of Jesus involves, including property, safety and honor.”[3] Lifestyle patterns to include eating, sleeping, exercising, technology usage, time management, and financial concerns should be added to the list. Neutral things in life can become deadweight that weaken and rob us of our potential to serve those around us.
Identifying our entangling sin equips us for a life of repentance and recognizing our impeding weights readies us to offload them; both are essential for a nimble lifestyle and service to others. Maturing in our faith is about maximizing our capacity for serving our neighbor and agility is one critical way we move in that direction.
Paul understood this principle, he framed it this way: “For though I am free from all, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win more of them” (1 Cor 9:19). He then provides a litany of concrete examples and sums up his activity by stating, “I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel” (1 Cor 9:23).
All things for the sake of the gospel, that was his battle cry and his true north. It dictated all his decisions and drove his philosophy of ministry. Though free, he made himself a servant to all and surrendered his own rights and desires for their sake. In other words, he left his hands open and allowed his neighbor to determine what he shouldered.
My friends, pack light so you can carry heavy.
[1]Jesus commends and promises a similar spiritual dexterity in his famous invitation: “’Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light’” (Matt 11:28-30). He promises to remove the weights and burdens we carry and to provide lightness and agility. He knows the things that weigh us down, he came to remove and replace those things.
[2]Notably, the Psalmists link sin with language of “burden” and the concept of “weight.” “For my iniquities have gone over my head; like a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me” (Ps 38:4).
[3]Luke Timothy Johnson, Hebrews: A Commentary, The New Testament Library, (Louisville: Presbyterian Publishing Corporation), 2012. “Even before enduring the rigors of a long race, however, they must prepare by divesting themselves of anything that might hold them back. The participle apothemenoi (‘putting aside’) is used in other New Testament compositions for the taking off of qualities as though they were clothes (Rom 13:12; Eph 4:22,25; Col 3:8; Jas 1:21; 1 Pet 2:1). Here it is a matter of eliminating the ‘weight’ that holds them back—we find the same concern among present-day runners who wear aerodynamic running suits and swimmers who shave their bodies. The noun onchosis otherwise unattested in the New Testament and LXX, but occurs in Hellenistic Jewish writings (e.g., Josephus, J.W.4.319; 7.443). The weight is once more metaphorical, standing for moral qualities that might impede their growth in faith. What could count as such an ‘impediment’? If we are to take seriously the entire preceding argument, we would have to list all the possessions that could tempt them to avoid the sort of suffering that following in the path of Jesus involves, including property, safety and honor.”