The Kindness We Owe
I work with Muslims, Jews, Christians, Buddhists, atheists, and those who can’t quite name what they believe. I’ve broken bread and shared laughter with people who see the world very differently than I do. And if I’m honest, most days I’m a blunt, disagreeable man—quick to defend my position, slow to listen, prone to let zeal outpace kindness. I know that about myself. Perhaps you know it about yourself too.
And yet, in the middle of all that difference, I’ve also seen goodness. I’ve seen kindness rise from the lips of those who do not confess Christ. I’ve seen mercy flow from hands that do not lift in prayer to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I’ve seen integrity shine in places where my theology would not permit me to say “we believe the same.”
What do we do with that?
One Shepherd, One Flock
Jesus said: “Other sheep I have which are not of this fold; them also I must bring, and they will hear My voice; and there will be one flock and one shepherd” (John 10:16, NKJV).
Now, the Church has wrestled for centuries with who those “other sheep” are. Augustine, Calvin, Wesley—they all circled around the mystery. The point is not that every path is equally true. The point is that God is drawing people, often before we recognize it. There is one Shepherd. The sheep are many.
The apostle Paul, standing in Athens among pagan altars, did not sneer or mock. He said, “Men of Athens, I perceive that in all things you are very religious… the One whom you worship without knowing, Him I proclaim to you” (Acts 17:22-23, NKJV). He did not flatten the differences, but he also did not deny the goodness he saw—the hunger for the divine that even idols betrayed.
The Command of Kindness
We are not permitted to despise those who differ from us. Paul again: “If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men” (Romans 12:18, NKJV).
Jesus goes further: “Love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you” (Matthew 5:44, NKJV).
If that’s the command for enemies, how much more for neighbors who simply believe differently?
The kindness of God leads us to repentance (Romans 2:4). Shouldn’t the kindness of His people lead others to at least glimpse His face?
The Fire and the Table
Here is the tension: I believe Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life (John 14:6). I cannot water that down. That claim is too central, too costly. But if I believe that, then I must also believe that He is Lord over all—Lord even over those who do not yet see Him.
So when I sit across from a Muslim colleague, or laugh with a Buddhist friend, or work alongside an atheist neighbor, I am not simply encountering “the other.” I am meeting someone made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27). I am meeting someone for whom Christ died (1 John 2:2).
At that table in the wilderness—scarred and stubborn as I am—I am commanded to show kindness. Not agreement, not compromise, but kindness.
A Question for Us
What would happen if Christians were known not first for being right, but for being kind? What if we were quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to wrath (James 1:19), not because truth doesn’t matter, but because Truth Himself was patient with us?
Can we hold both? Can we contend for truth with courage and yet wash the feet of those who reject it?
A Prayer
Lord Christ,
You are the Shepherd of many sheep, the Lord of every heart.
Forgive my arrogance, my quick tongue, my bluntness that wounds.
Teach me to see Your image in those who do not yet call Your Name.
Make me kind.
Make me peaceable.
And at Your table, in the wilderness of this world,
let me serve and be served until all things are made new.
Amen.
The Embodied Takeaway
This week, find one person of a different faith—or no faith at all—who you cross paths with. Don’t argue. Don’t defend. Don’t prove. Just practice kindness. Buy the coffee. Listen well. Hold the door. Ask the question. Sow peace where suspicion usually grows.
For in so doing, you might just entertain angels unaware (Hebrews 13:2).
