Sermon for October 5th

October 5th

I once heard a sermon from a colleague talking about the difference between being kind and being nice. We often think of those words as synonyms for one another. If you are nice, you are kind and vice versa.

However, my friend’s point was that they can mean very different things. Being nice, in his estimation, meant saying pleasant things and never ruffling anyone’s feathers. Nice was surface level conversations that couldn’t possibly offend anyone.  Nice was the person who never offended anyone and never upset the apple cart and who ultimately avoided the truth, because the truth could hurt people. A nice person would be the one who if asked “Hey, does this hat look good on me?” would answer, without hesitation, yes. To say no might cause offense and that is something the nice person would ultimately want to avoid.

Kind, on the other hand, was doing what was best for the other person, no matter what meant. If that same question was asked to a person who was trying to be kind, rather than nice, their response would have been “no”. Yes, it may have been disappointing to hear for the person who really liked the hat, but it would have saved the person from hearing the same thing from a stranger or going out in public in something that did not look good on them. The kind person saw what was needed and did it. Disappoint the person now to save them from greater pain later. Act for the person’s greater good rather than to avoid short term discomfort. For my colleague, being kind was to act out of love. Being nice simply meant avoiding conflict.

Which do you think that Jesus was: nice or kind? I think for too many people, Jesus was seen to be nice. Their concept of him was that he only gave comfort and peace. He was gentleness personified. Yet that doesn’t track with the Jesus we find in scripture. This Jesus isn’t nice. He challenges. He has expectations. He openly defies the powers of his day and age. He is most certainly not nice. And for those who believe that Jesus is the ultimate “good guy” they struggle with texts like the one we have today or last week or throughout the Gospels. Jesus isn’t nice.

CS Lewis, in his Narnia series, created the character of the lion Aslan as Narnia’s version of Christ. In fact, later in the series, it is identified that Aslan and Christ are the same people. In the “The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe” Lucy expresses to the Beavers, as they take refugee in their lodge against the threat of the white witch, her concern over whether Aslan is truly safe.

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver. “Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."

That could easily be our response about Christ. Is he quite safe? No. Is he nice? No. But he is good, and he is kind.

The passage today is a perfect example. We don’t always feel comfortable about readings like this. These kinds of readings are too aggressive. They are not gracious enough. They make us feel uncomfortable. These are not nice readings, and they call us to ventures that are not safe.

Exactly. They do. And that is because they reflect the one who speaks those words. Jesus isn’t nice. He isn’t safe. But he is kind, and he is good.

Reflect again on the text. At its heart, it speaks about the danger of seeking acclaim for being the people we were called to be. Why should we expect acclaim, and yet we do? Why do we need praise for following Christ and doing what is right? Yet we do. The nice person would feel uncomfortable with Christ’s words. They may even think that we should skip the parts of the Gospels where Jesus talks like this. The nice person would have us applaud anyone who does good for the other or is kind in any way. This passage would not sit well with such a mindset.

Although Jesus is not being nice, he is being kind. He is pointing out that our need for acclaim is something that deafens us to the more important truth. We have already received the greater gift. We have been created, redeemed, and sustained out of love. There is nothing greater than this. So, what is the need for acclaim, for praise, when we have this great gift of love? When we still long for praise and the sound of applause, then it becomes all about us again, not about God. The voice of grace is silenced, and our own ego raises to the top. Jesus isn’t being nice, but he is being kind, for the greater tragedy would not be to lose the chance of acclaim. It would be to lose sight of why we were doing this and why it was important. Drowning God’s voice is the far greater tragedy than not receiving a pat on the back for a job well done.

And this text reminds us, though not overtly, that Jesus is not safe. Jesus is not going to ever call us to lives that are safe and easy. His call is into a world of pain and sorrow. Our call is not away from those more painful parts of existence, but into the pain and sorrow, so that we can be an instrument of God’s love for the world and that is not safe. It is dangerous work. It is work that Jesus himself did. It is work that could cost us everything. But it is work that needs to be done. And so, we are asked, even expected, to go.

But even in the danger, Jesus is good. He never lets us walk into the darkness of the world without his light. He never lets us do these things on our own. He is good because what we are asked to do is necessary and we never stand alone. Christ is with us.

So go out, not to be nice and safe, but to be kind and good, knowing you walk the path that our Saviour trod, someone who is always kind and always good even when it challenges us to our very core.

Amen