
A few years ago, I found myself driving through Nashville—one of the most challenging cities in America for daily commutes, according to Forbes magazine. And honestly, I believe it. I’m not saying I lost my salvation in traffic that day, but there was definitely some horn honking and maybe a few “urgent suggestions” shouted from the car. Mostly to prevent other drivers from accidentally killing us at 75 miles an hour.
But here’s what surprised me: in the middle of all that chaos, there was a surprising amount of courtesy. If someone saw you trying to change lanes, they'd slow down and let you in. If you pulled up to a parking spot first—even after circling the Farmers Market for 45 minutes (true story)—people backed off and let you have it. There was an unspoken code of respect, even amid the mess.
Right next to the Farmers Market was a fenced-in area filled with vendor tents. As we walked by, we heard yelling—loud, aggressive, almost alarming. We hesitated for a moment, a little unsure what we were walking into. Turns out, it was a semi-pro wrestling match. Just acting, of course. But interestingly, as people approached, most turned away. They didn’t want to get near the shouting, even if it wasn’t real.
And that’s the point.
Kindness draws people in. Anger—even if it's just for show—pushes them away.
The apostle Paul put it this way in Ephesians 4:31–32 (NLT):
“Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and slander, as well as all types of evil behavior. Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.”
It turns out kindness isn’t just a virtue—it’s a magnet. It softens tension. It builds trust. It welcomes people in when the world around them feels hostile. Anger shouts. Kindness invites.
Let’s be the kind of people—and churches—who invite others in.
Add comment
Comments