Kindness
The Bible emphasizes kindness: ‘Love is kind’, declares the apostle Paul, writing to the feuding Corinthian church. (1 Cor 13: 4). And Paul writes to the church in Ephesus with a heartfelt call: ‘Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you’ (Eph 4:32)
Again, to the Colossians: ‘Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience (Col 3:12).
But it’s important to know that the call to kind is not just ‘nice’, or even good character, but when we are kind, we reflect the kind heart of our Jesus.
A beautiful Old Testament word that captures something of the kind heart of God is chesed – usually translated ‘loving kindness’.
Recently I saw a head and heart-turning example of kindness in action.
So allow me to share an example of consistent kindness in action.
Airports are not my favourite places, which is unfortunate, because over the years I have spent quite a lot of time in them. I don’t mind flying so much, even though some in-flight food is surely created by demonised chefs, and one is occasionally required to play that culinary game, ‘Name that food’, mainly because it is difficult to determine whether it is beef or chicken. Unlike the excited newbie traveller, the thrilled ten-year-old, or even that pencil-toting soul who goes plane-spotting (apologies to any pencil-touting plane spotting souls who are reading this), I’m no longer joyous when I step inside a terminal. On the contrary.
Airports are usually emotional black holes. Admittedly, there are a few happy folk to be seen, although some of them have smiles fueled by quaffing lager with their airport breakfast, a habit that is surely prohibited in Leviticus. Dark Irish stout is not the ideal beverage to go with eggs and bacon at 7am. Most people in airports are there simply because they want to be somewhere else, which affects their mood.
Then there’s the security screening, where you try to look relaxed while your hand luggage is being scanned because there is the remote possibility that a tactical nuclear warhead has been secreted alongside your laptop. One of my most least favourite moments comes when I have to remove my belt. I have a deep-seated fear that one day my jeans will fall to my ankles and I will be hapless in a crowded security area, embarrassed beyond belief in my Mickey Mouse adorned boxer shorts. I could go on. There’s all that rushing, because, sadly, some airport officials tell fibs. Actually, they lie. The departure board flashes up the news that your flight is now boarding, or even worse, is now in the final, ‘last and final call’ process. The gate is a 20-minute walk away, and so breathless and perhaps even muttering words not normally in the vocabulary of good Christian people, you arrive at the gate only to discover that the boarding process has not even started. You repent of muttering those words, but then you feel something close to hatred for the person who issued the false boarding announcement, and then you repent of feeling hatred…
Sorry, there’s more! If you are flying a budget airline, you will be required to line up according to the seat number on your boarding pass. If you’re in seat B23, may the Lord have mercy upon you if by accident you get in front of the person who is in seat B22. All in all, I’m usually glad when the time comes to exit the airport. I prefer arriving to traveling.
There was one particular occasion, however, when the sun came out in Denver airport terminal A, and all because of a lady that Kay and I had spotted. One of our hobbies is people watching – and people listening. Sometimes we take this a little too far, and refrain from conversation with each other so that we can tune in to the conversations of others nearby. (Kay especially loves this. With a birthday coming up, I’m planning on buying her surveillance equipment as a gift.)
As for the aforementioned lady, we first saw her on the swaying transit train that propelled us towards our gate area. Standing next to a nervous-looking family, she greeted them, all smiles, and wished them a happy flight. Just one warm comment from her seemed to calm their frayed nerves a little.
Later, when we boarded an escalator, she stood behind us and smiled and joked with a rather sullen-looking passenger too, brightening up the 20-second ascent. And then, to our surprise, she lined up for the same flight as us (bearing in mind that Denver airport normally has over 1,600 flights daily). As she boarded, she profusely thanked the gate agent, who seemed surprised and thrilled at the appreciation.
We took off, I popped a peanut in my mouth (unhelpfully adding to the dehydrating conditions of flying) and pondered her kindness. It was then that I felt a nudge, perhaps from God, to encourage her if I could find her once we’d landed. My mind immediately recoiled at the notion. The lady might not welcome an approach from a random chap. My well-meaning intentions could end up as an example in a ‘Stranger Danger’ public safety advice video.
After we’d landed and disembarked the plane, she was nowhere to be found. Frankly, I felt relieved; off the hook from what I’d thought might be a mission from God. Down in the busy baggage claim area, I dutifully scanned the crowd but in vain. And then I noticed that she was standing right next to me, talking on the phone. Suddenly her carry-on bag fell over at my feet. This could be my moment, but she was still talking as I put the bag upright . She thanked me mid-call, grabbed her bags, headed away and then stopped to look at her phone. Our luggage arrived, and we headed to walk past her – and that’s when her bag fell over once more, again, right at my feet.
I plunged in nervously. ‘Excuse me… this might sound a little strange, but I’m a pastor.’ (I felt that might make me sound a little safer, which may or may not be the case.) ‘My wife and I both noticed your repeated kindness back in Denver. It’s so refreshing to see someone act like you do. I prayed that I would have the chance to meet you and thank you. And so… thank you!’ Her mouth fell open, she smiled broadly – and then burst into tears. Happy tears.
After the briefest of chats, she hurried off to repair her ruined mascara. And I was left wondering: Had God performed some nifty choreography to enable that moment?
I’m wary of Christians who see God steering every detail of life. I no longer pray for parking spaces (unless I desperately need one), feeling that the Lord of the universe has other things to deal with. But my faith in coincidences is limited. We often say that the devil is in the detail, but perhaps, just perhaps, God is in the detail too. Did God set up that airport encounter? Possibly. Probably, even.
This much is absolutely certain: kindness, so wonderfully demonstrated by that smiling, gracious lady, can light up gloomier spaces. Kindness is an oft-overlooked characteristic of our God, who graced His old covenant people with loving-kindness. Paul, writing a letter to his friends in Ephesus, celebrated the God who ‘has showered his kindness on us’ (Eph. 1:8) When we’re kind, we’re just a little more like God.
Kindness often costs nothing except time and thought, but surely turns heads and hearts here on earth. And surely heaven watches and celebrates acts of kindness as well.