A Year for Radical Kindness

Artwork by illustrator and advocate, Oh Happy Dani.

Christmas day has come and gone and the new year is just around the corner, but the spirit of this holy time persists. The Christmas season calls us into a deeper appreciation for the mystical and miraculous force we call “life,” which inhabits and flows through the wonderful world we call home. Our stories say that over 2,000 years ago, a different life took shape. This life, according to our tradition, was both the infinite power of the universe and a finite, historical brown refugee, Jesus of Nazareth. Christian tradition tells of the Logos, the “Word made flesh,” the logic of the universe, living among us; a concrete manifestation of the infinite possibilities that exist. All around us, even now in the midst of this pandemic, there are infinite possibilities.

If you’re like me, life during this pandemic makes that last sentence seem false. Other than streaming shows from Disney+ or Netflix every day, what can I do? My options in life seem severely limited—and I’m someone with a relative amount of privilege. The options of what we can safely do are made even more scarce by the pestilence of racism, transphobia, homophobia, classism, etc. Will all of these illnesses in the world, what possibilities really exist?

The Potential of Kindness

As the leftover potato salad and lebkuchen (almost like gingerbread, but sometimes covered in chocolate—and so delicious!) from Christmas dinner have been slowly eaten up, and as the days after Christmas have continued to pass, I’ve found myself meditating on the concept of kindness. As the artwork above says, to be kind is to remind someone that they are always worth celebrating. Though this seems like a simple and lovely message, the kind you’d expect on a Hallmark card, this poster was created by an activist of color whose artwork strives to portray concepts of social justice in clear and colorful ways. This concept of kindness isn’t the pop-culture Christian idea of helping out in to a soup kitchen to feel better. This kindness isn’t a top-down approach where a “generous” person kindly gives to those deemed “less fortunate” (who were made “less fortunate” by the same system that made the other person more fortunate). This kindness is simple and radical: remind someone that they are always worth celebrating.

Think about it, when’s the last time you felt celebrated? Was it your birthday? A special moment with someone you love? These moments when we feel seen, appreciated and celebrated transform us. Feeling celebrated not only changes our perceptions of ourselves, it changes the way we interact with others. Other people are worthy of celebrating and it’s up to each of us to do so! I can hear the song already, “Celebrate good times, come on!”

Imagine the possibilities all around you right now: who can you celebrate safely and how? After navigating border closures, quarantines, and an international relationship, my three months in Germany with my partner’s family over the summer were coming to an end. It was mid-October when we said goodbye and I headed back with much trepidation to the U.S. After landing, I was greeted by the national guard at the little Rochester International Airport in Rochester, New York. These fellas clearly had gotten some flack from other travelers, some had their heads down and looked sorry to be imposing on us. In our area of upstate New York, the red political leaning has led many to disregard the seriousness of the virus. As they politely stopped me to see if I had filled out the locator form, I showed my phone with a bit of impatience from traveling for 12 hours and kept going without saying a word. But then I stopped, turned around and said, “Thank you for what you’re doing to keep us safe.” The group smiled and it was clear that a simple thank you meant a lot to them. A single kind word changed an impatient, and somewhat uncomfortable situation, into a moment of celebrating their presence and valuing their work. We were all subtly transformed.

Privilege & Kindness

But does kindness look the same for everyone? As a white man, society already celebrates most of my identity. White men have held, and continue to hold, a disproportionate number of positions of power and wealth. A year of kindness undertaken by my fellow white men means intentionally celebrating women and all people of color as well as indigenous people and other marginalized communities. Kindness requires something different for each person. As a gay man, a year of kindness also includes self kindness by continuing to affirm my sexuality and the sexualities of others. To remind someone that they are worth celebrating when society has historically and constantly told them otherwise is the radical kindness that can reshape our world—a kindness found deep within our tradition.

As Eric Law discusses in his book, Wolf Shall Dwell with the Lamb, the cycle of the cross is essential for Christians to understand as it relates to privilege. For some, we have been the primary focus for so long that the cross requires us to sacrifice the attention and step back, to humble ourselves and recognize the privileges we’ve benefitted from. For others, they have been marginalized and silenced for so long, they’ve hung on society’s cross for ages and now is the time for resurrection. It’s time for them to be heard, to be a focal point, to shift the center. Each of us will experience the cycles of the cross, sometimes we must step back and sometimes we must step forward.

With the cycles of the cross in mind, kindness by a white man might look something like not being the first to speak in a Bible study—even if no one else does—so that there is space for others, who have been conditioned to wait, to share their ideas. This kindness could also be inviting someone who is not a white man to lead x, y, or z. For some people of color, kindness might look like speaking first in that Bible study or volunteering to lead x, y, or z. But, as a white person, I recognize my limitations here and won’t white manspain what kindness could look like for people of color. That is not my place. But, inviting each of us to think about how our privileges (gender, race, and class) inform the type of kindness we should be enacting is the the place of all religious folks.

A Tradition of Kindness

“Kindness is,” as a blog in Psychology Today described it, “an interpersonal skill.” Kindness is inherently relational, so it makes sense that Christianity, whose greatest commandments are relational (loving God and loving neighbors), should have something to say about kindness. This radically relational kindness finds its roots even before Christian communities in the Hebrew language. Kindness is a central theme throughout the Hebrew Bible.

Chesed (חֶסֶד‎), translated as kindness or loving-kindness, is difficult to translate perfectly into English and is also frequently translated as mercy, grace, a form of covenantal obligation, or steadfast love. As elusive as its translation is, chesed is essential for Jewish ethics. Chesed is something you do. Making peace after an argument, showing hospitality to a stranger, caring for the poor—these are all acts of chesed. In Exodus 15, “Moses’ Song” proclaims, “You in Your mercy (chesed) have led forth the people whom You have redeemed; you have guided them in Your strength to Your holy habitation” (Ex. 15:13). Mercy, kindness, steadfast love—chesed. The tradition that we claim continues the prophets of old is one founded upon an active kindness that shows mercy, that demonstrates love and devotion, and which looks differently depending on who performs it. So, how might this kindness guide us for 2021?

A Challenge for 2021

The possibilities are all around us—even in this pandemic—to do chesed, to celebrate those who have been silenced, to be radically kind. Making sure our neighbors have groceries, calling our grandparents or elderly friends to celebrate them while they can’t gather with their families, continuing to challenge racist actions and legislation where we can—these are but a few of the infinite possibilities. This type of kindness takes intention. We must meditate on it, contemplate it, grow in empathy and awareness of those who suffer what we do not suffer. This kindness requires us to be awake to injustices around us, to see the unseen, to celebrate the uncelebrated, and to step back so that others may step forward or step forward where others have stepped back.

May we be kind to one another this year in ways so bold and so intentional that not only are we ourselves transformed, but we continue to transform the world together. May it be so.