You don't have to do it alone

There are days when I am not the person I want to be.

I am tired. I am short with the children. I have less patience with my wife than I should. I put something important off because I cannot be bothered. I reach for my phone instead of giving someone my attention.

And then there are the days when it is more than that.

Days when temptation feels particularly persuasive. When selfishness is not just a passing thought but a comfortable place to sit. When the weight of life becomes difficult to carry.

During my own experiences of depression, there have been times when even the ordinary things of life have felt like an effort, and the person I wanted to be has seemed a long way from the person I could manage to be.

Perhaps you know something of that.

Perhaps your difficult day looks different. A mistake at work. An argument at home. A temptation you thought you had left behind. The exhaustion of caring for children. The feeling that everyone needs something from you, and you have very little left to give.

The temptation is to think that Christianity is about becoming strong enough that these things no longer happen.

But I am not sure that is what Jesus is asking of us.

In this Sunday's Gospel, Jesus speaks about what happens when one of his disciples sins against another.

It is easy to hear this as a set of instructions for dealing with difficult people. Someone has done something wrong. We confront them. If that does not work, we escalate.

But Jesus says something more important:

“If he listens to you, you have gained your brother.”

Not you have won the argument. Not you have proved that you were right.

You have gained your brother.

The purpose is not simply to identify the fault. It is to restore the relationship.

And that changes how we might think about the people around us.

Because the person who needs that conversation is not always someone else.

Sometimes it is me.

Sometimes I need someone to say, “You are not yourself at the moment.”

Sometimes I need someone to point out that I am becoming impatient, withdrawn, selfish or distracted. Sometimes I need someone to remind me that the way I am behaving is affecting the people I love.

And sometimes I need someone to recognise that I am not simply being difficult. I am tired. I am struggling. I am carrying something I have not yet found the words to explain.

This is where I think we can miss something important about the Christian life.

We can become so focused on our own relationship with God that we forget one of the ways God chooses to work in our lives: through other people.

Christ does not only meet us in the silence of prayer, in the Eucharist or in the words of Scripture.

He meets us in the person who asks, “Are you alright?”

In the friend who notices that we have gone quiet.

In the wife who tells us, with love, that we have not been ourselves.

In the husband who recognises that his wife is carrying too much.

In the colleague who says, “Leave that with me. You have enough on your plate.”

And sometimes, Christ works through the person who simply sits with us when there is nothing useful to say.

That is not a weakness in our faith.

That is part of what it means to be a Christian.

We are not meant to do this alone

Jesus goes on to say:

“Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.”

We often hear those words at the beginning of a prayer meeting or a parish gathering. But they are not just about the number of people in the room.

They remind us that Christ is present among his people.

Our faith is not simply a private project. We are called into a community. A family. A parish. A group of friends. A fraternity of people who are trying to follow Christ, even when they get it wrong.

A group in which we can say, “I am struggling.”

A group in which we can say, “I have made a mistake.”

A group in which we can say, “I need someone to help me.”

And a group in which we can also say, “I think you need to hear something.”

Not because we are better than one another.

But because Christ is at the head of the group.

The ordinary work of being Christian

I think about this a lot as a husband and father.

There are times when I am the one who needs to be stronger. Times when my wife needs me to step up, take responsibility, be more patient and stop making excuses.

But there are also times when I am the one who needs to be carried a little.

And that is not a failure of my role as a husband or father.

It is part of being human.

The same is true at work. We all have days when we are not at our best. Days when the demands of life feel like they are piling up.

We need people around us who will help us to keep going.

Not people who will simply tell us what we want to hear.

People who will tell us the truth, but with love.

People who will challenge us, but without humiliating us.

People who will recognise when we need a little support.

That is what a Christian community should look like.

Not a collection of perfect people.

But a group of imperfect people, trying to follow a perfect Saviour.

You don't have to do it alone

So perhaps the question this Gospel leaves us with is not simply, Who do I need to challenge?

It is, Who am I allowing to help me become the person God is calling me to be?

As a partner, am I humble enough to admit when I am getting it wrong, and generous enough to help the person I love do the same?

As a parent, am I teaching my children that strength means never struggling, or am I showing them that asking for help, accepting correction and standing alongside others are signs of courage?

And as a worker, am I trying to carry everything myself, or am I willing to recognise that the people around me may be part of the way Christ is asking me to keep going?

Because the Christian life was never meant to be lived as a solo performance.

It is a team effort. A family effort. A community effort. A fraternity of imperfect people, with Christ at the head, helping one another through the ordinary mess of life.

And perhaps that is the challenge for this week: stop trying to be the person who never needs help, and become the person who knows how to give it, receive it, and recognise Christ in the people who offer it.

That is not weakness.

That is what it means to walk with Christ.