Are You Drawn to Kindness?

I was deep into a project for work when my son knocked on my door. I could tell he was excited about something, so I paused and invited him in. He had found a video on YouTube of a homeless man receiving a free makeover.

As I watched the video with my son, I also observed him viewing it for at least the second time. I couldn’t help but smile. Joy filled my soon-to-be teenager’s face in a way I hadn’t seen very often in the last year. As he left to move on with his day, I couldn’t help but feel relieved by the level of compassion I’d witnessed. I was cheering in my head and heart and celebrating a parenting win when I began to wonder what had made him seek out a YouTube video like that.

The world has seemed especially harsh lately. Social media exacerbates this behavior in many ways, but it isn’t contained to sites like Facebook anymore. I’ve described it as people revealing their true feelings, but I think the sharp tongues and cruel words spoken without concern for others have begun to go further than feelings. It’s hard to hear or read some of the words daily covering social media or being spoken to strangers without wondering if anger is becoming the dominant emotion of the country.

I admit that I, too, have had a lazy tongue in certain circumstances. The easy response to cruelty is to push back as hard or harder. Whether it’s a comment about a failed recipe attempt or an expression of prejudice, the root of the reaction is the same, and it’s not kindness. When I witness someone being unkind, my instinct is to repay that unkindness with my own brand of unkindness. I want to snap back. I want the offender to hurt as deeply as they have wounded, and I find myself lacking a desire respond with compassion or kindness.

I’ve been offended a time or two, and I’ve allowed myself to respond in a way that’s stronger than necessary. I have even justified my poor choices by telling myself I’m defending a moral or ethical failure. Regardless of my justification, though, those times of weakness always leave me feeling empty and frustrated.

Matthew 21:12–14 begins a new section of Scripture, and in my Bible (the New American Standard Bible), it has the title “Cleansing the Temple.”

“Jesus entered the temple and drove out all those who were buying and selling in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who were selling doves. And He said to them, ‘It is written, “My house shall be called a house of prayer”; but you are making it a robbers’ den.’ And the blind and the lame came to Him in the temple, and He healed them.”

Jesus let his emotions show when he saw a moral failure in the temple. The interesting thing is that after he called out the people defiling his Father’s house, he didn’t dwell in the wrong, continuing to shame and say sharp words. He chose to turn and heal the blind and lame instead. I’ve begun to wonder if this reveals the key to riding out the season in history we’re currently experiencing.

Just as my son was drawn to kindness, so am I. I’m inspired by it, and I feel better about others and myself when kindness is present. I even feel safer when people choose to be kind. This doesn’t mean evil isn’t addressed, but maybe every evil isn’t called out by flipping tables.

Jesus had many encounters with people who were acting poorly. But his response was mostly measured and wisely worded. In John 8, a group of men was looking for permission to stone an adulterous woman. Jesus said just a few words, and the men were left to examine the history of their personal choices.

Watching that YouTube video with my son reminded me that we’re all drawn to acts of kindness. My son was drawn to the beauticians using their talents to help someone in need. There was kindness in the tangible act of helping someone who couldn’t help himself.

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Micah 6:8 says “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” This period of history has revealed to me that there is a depth to this short verse. For me, it begins with finding ways to act kindly instead of speak harshly. I’m hungrier every day for a kinder world. Will you join me in creating one where you are?

Beth Walker is a football coach’s wife and mom of two energetic boys. She strives to encourage those around her to pursue their best lives in Jesus whether she is near the game field, in church, or at the local coffee shop. As a writer, Beth has been striving to find her voice through seeing Jesus in the ordinary and extraordinary of daily life. She blogs at Lessons from the Sidelines.

Photograph © Naletu, used with permission