A micro-theology of ‘being nice’
Back in the day, when I was just a young ginger sprout in 6th form college, I remember having a full-on debate with my enigmatic psychology teacher about the virtues of being ‘nice.’ She took the approach that humans are competitive beings who – by their very nature – will only ever use ‘niceness’ as a way of clawing their way to the top. ‘Niceness’, she said, ‘is always driven by selfishness at some level’. I, however, took the side that she was clearly stupid – which was the continually repeated and highly sophisticated premise of my whole argument. That was probably why I, quite spectacularly, lost the debate in front of all my classmates.
Sixteen years later my position has matured just a tiny bit.
Aren’t we naturally selfish?
Although I still hold the same position that I so badly defended, there is an element of truth in what my psychology teacher was trying to tell me. Humans are, in fact, sinful. Jer. 17:9 says ‘the heart is deceitful above all things’; Rom. 3:10 tells us that ‘no one is good, not even one,’ and Rom. 7:21 says even when I try to do good ‘evil is right there with me’. The basic nature of sin is idolatry after all – putting ourselves before others and ultimately before God. Being kind, therefore, doesn’t come easily, but that doesn’t mean that it can’t come naturally.
The nature of humans is not the same as the nature of sin. Having sin does not mean being sin. Equating humanity with sin so totally and intrinsically that they become inescapably one is messing with some essential theology. It’s worth pulling this thread a little bit more before we go any further.
In the 16th Century, theologian and reformer John Calvin wrote several famous chapters on the nature of sinful humanity. He talked about our disposition to choose ourselves over God, and our literal inability to reverse that instinct. About a century after he wrote this, others coined a reader’s digest version of this which we know today as ‘total depravity’. This summary not only reordered some of what Calvin said, but glibly reduced it into being more about the nature of humanity, rather than the nature of sin. This went further and further until (at least in some camps) ‘the human’ and ‘the sin’ became virtually one and the same entity. To err is human, as the old missive says, and it’s this warped reading of total depravity that puts kindness beyond the scope of natural humanity.
Humans are sinful; however, this is not the same as saying humans are actually sin. This is a very important distinction. We were made in the image of God, and it’s that image – and that nature – which is redeemed at the cross (1 Jn. 2:1). Our sinful disposition might be inescapable by our own efforts, or irredeemable by our own merits, but it doesn’t fundamentally change the nature of what God made – or His power to transform it. I mean, how impotent do we think God is?
It is not impossible for us – in the power of God – to be selfless, therefore. If it was impossible then we are actually making a serious statement about God’s power – not about our rubbishness. When we focus on our corruption without the balance of God’s desire for us to grow and become more like Him, then we reject the transforming nature of what Jesus did. We effectively limit grace.
But wait, aren’t we naturally selfish? No. We are naturally made in the image of God. We were corrupted by sin to behave selfishly, but then transformed by Jesus to be gradually conformed to His likeness. Sin hinders us, sure, but it is not actually us. We are sinful, but not sin. The nature of humanity is God-made and in God’s image. It is therefore more natural for us to be selfless than selfish.
Humanity is not naturally sinful. Believing so misunderstands the fundamental nature of humanity as created by God. Human nature was corrupted by sin, but only in the same way the nature of a plant is corrupted by decay. The plant does not become the decay just because it’s starving. Our fundamental, image-of-God nature did not wholly change to become sin.
Jesus empowers us to be selfless, and to become the fullness of who we were initially designed to be – and that is the more natural way of humanity.
There is divine power in kindness
So, it is absolutely not impossible, or even unnatural, to be selfless. We’re not really fighting nature here. God’s transformation actually demands selflessness of us. 1 Cor. 10:24 says we should seek the ‘good of our neighbour’ above our own good; and Gal. 6:2 instructs us ‘bear one another’s burdens.’ The greatest commandment tells us to love God and to love others as ourselves, and – perhaps most potently – Phil. 2:3-4 tell us to ‘count others more significant than ourselves’, and not to look ‘only to our own interests, but also to the interests of others’. This also sits in a passage that instructs us to have the same cross-carrying mindset as Jesus himself (vv.5-11). Selflessness is instructed by God as part of our ongoing recalibration as redeemed creatures. Put more simply: It’s part of being like Jesus!
My mum used to say that kindness doesn’t cost us anything, and she’s right, but it cost Jesus everything. If simply being kind, nice, or selfless was easy, then it wouldn’t have required such an immense and eternal sacrifice. Selflessness is the highest form of love shown by Jesus on the cross.
Kindness is also a fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22). In Greek the word for kindness is χρηστότης and is only found in two other places. It’s used in both Rom. 11:22 and Tit. 3:4 to talk about the kindness, goodness and patience of God himself. It’s part of God’s very character and person. With that in mind, here in Galatians ‘be full of the fruit of the Spirit’ quite literally means ‘be clothed in the person of God.’ We are to put on his very being and character.
Kindness is a trait of God’s very being. There is, therefore, immense power, grace, and mercy in simply being kind to one another. Kindness is the fundamental, dense, and resonating generousness of God’s Spirit in us. It comes with maturity, peace, stability, and presence – and when we ‘give’ it to another, they leave with more than they came to us with. It’s a creating action, as well as a divine predisposition.
We have, however, become far too cavalier about kindness.
A famine of kindness
I’m writing this for two reasons: First, it’s become far too ordinary for Christians to be unkind. In the name of justice, theological correctness, denominational identity or doctrinal distinction, we have justified being unkind to the world and unkind to other Christians. It’s frankly become too easy for us to be jerks!
Second, we have drawn a straight line between kindness and compromise. Listening actively and dialoguing openly to those we disagree with and seeking love and friendship with people who have opposing worldviews are seen as spiritual weakness and thus, compromise. To be kind is now readily labelled as surrender. Once again, it’s become too easy – and even too ‘holy’ – for us to be jerks!
Mean spirited memes, satirical ‘heresy shelves’, public gossip, naming-and-shaming, and outright slander have become too commonplace among Christians, especially with the spread of social media. This is an immensely tragic and backwards projection of our faith to a broken world.
I recently had a conversation with a Christian man who shunned real fellowship with a fellow believer because they let a swear word slip into one of their prayers. Since he heard that prayer, the man would only speak of this person in overly-simplified, and harshly judgemental terms. He became rude and aloof – and you can bet your boots the other person felt it! Where was the divine spark of kindness in this relational decision?
We are told to act in a selfless, loving, compassionate, and kind way far more than we are told to correct false teaching, or call out heresy – and the latter is always done full of the former[link]. This is mercy, and it’s another trait of God Himself. I wonder how the world would see us – and indeed Jesus through us – differently if we led with mercy, love and kindness over meanness, arrogance and correctness.
Kindness doesn’t mean ignoring sin – but it convicts with compassion, not arrogance. Kindness also doesn’t mean glossing over false teaching – but it approaches with mercy, not petulance. Doing kindness right, then – as God designed it by nature – is a reflection of his own character. So it’s actually not a simple thing.
Kindness is hard!
Walking in the image of God and trying day by day to be more clothed in His very being is counter cultural and downright radical. This is no less than reaching for the deepest levels of true sanctification found in pursuing the likeness of God’s own character.
I wonder if our modern Western Christianity is just a little bit too immature to be calling out false teaching at the rate it does at the moment. My social media feeds are full of angry Christians calling out a broken world by holding them to a standard that they just don’t recognise and aren’t seeing modelled.
As the visible body of Christ on Earth, our job is to look and act like Jesus by being clothed in the fruit of the Spirit. We are to move in compassion first, and then overflow with good choices and helpful challenges. If we can’t move in compassion first, however, then we are misrepresenting the nature of God to a God-needy world.
Do we think that God would rather we be merciful and compassionate, or right and outspoken? We need to be both at times – but I’m pretty sure that any ‘rightness’ we think we have is infantile at best unless founded on genuine compassion shown through kindness. We’re apt to just become yet another chorus of clanging gongs (1 Cor. 13:1). To once again quote my mum, if you can’t say anything nice then don’t say anything at all!
I believe the hardest thing that a Christian leader can truly do is love; love God and love others. This is exactly why it’s the commandment that’s placed above all others (Matt. 22:36-4). On the flip side, I believe that the easiest thing a Christian can do is call out stuff that we don’t agree with. I know that for me, if I spent more time on the former then the latter would have much greater effect. And frankly I’d feel better too!
Food for thought.
