Why Kindness Matters - Rev Andrew Lim

Good morning. I am Reverend Andrew Lim, and I am the Missioner at the Anglican Chinese Mission.

My friend Christina Baird in Auckland was in a coaching workshop where they asked the class to dream of their life goals. In a flash of Spirit‑led inspiration, Christina wrote that she will guide to start a movement of kindness that transforms the world.

Our passage today is from John’s Gospel, chapter nine. It tells of a man born blind, healed by Jesus. Reading this passage, I was struck by the difference between how Jesus treated the man and how the Pharisees treated him. Jesus saw him as a person to be cared for. The Pharisees, however, saw him as a proxy in their opposition to Jesus.

In the divisive environment of today, so many people, like this man, become proxies in our culture wars. Migrants are especially vulnerable in New Zealand, but so too are many others: the poor and the rich, homeowners and homeless, cyclists and motorists. Our tribalism pulls us apart. We value people only as far as they advance our side in the culture war. Unlike the kindness shown by Jesus towards this blind man, modern‑day Pharisees seek to advance their sides by treating people unkindly.

I wonder what happens if Christina succeeds and kindness truly transforms this world. What would such a world look like? I think we need to start by realising that we need kindness both for ourselves and for others.

I received a text message from a student some months ago. She asked if I was around to meet and have a chat with her. She wrote: “I’m going through a difficult time, and I want to reach out for advice and kindness where I can.” I treasure this message, as it showed the maturity and self‑awareness of someone who understands and is willing to ask for kindness.

I wonder if it is common in your context — in your workplace, church or community — for people to ask for kindness and be safe doing so. I worry that for some, and maybe for many of us, we might not even think that we deserve kindness. Somehow, we have messed up our lives. Somehow, we have failed in some way. Somehow, the difficulties we now face are of our own doing, our own fault, our own sins.

Maybe we think we deserve our blindness. We walk in the dark shadow of guilt, shame, and dread.

I suspect that a simple act of kindness will go a long way in these difficult times.

My daughter Monica and I used to watch the movie *Evan Almighty* again and again when she was younger. In the movie, Evan was told by God to build an ark in the middle of suburban America in anticipation of a coming flood. Through an Act of Random Kindness — A.R.K. — Evan saves the day. I wonder how many people in our lives today need an act of kindness. I wonder how transformative such an act could be.

Can we trust that God will multiply our small acts of kindness to have a truly transformative and life‑changing impact on people? What if we see kindness as an act of grace — undeserved and yet given?

In the Gospel story, unexpectedly, unasked for, undeserved, this blind man’s life was completely transformed through an act of kindness by Jesus. He received kindness as an act of grace from Jesus. In this Gospel account, as well as in so much of our lives today, acts of kindness have sacramental impact. They mediate God’s presence, His grace, and His love in the lives of those who give and receive kindness. They prepare the world to answer the question Jesus asked of the man: “Do you believe in the Son of Man?”

So why isn’t kindness more prevalent? Why isn’t kindness our irreducible minimum in how we live and interact with each other? I think it is because kindness is so easily overwhelmed by other considerations. You have no time to be kind. It takes too much effort. You’re too busy, and it interrupts our lives. Kindness becomes an optional indulgence, which we engage in only when it doesn’t disrupt our daily lives too much.

In the Gospel account, while questioning the man, the Pharisees revealed that they had other priorities — such as keeping the Sabbath, giving glory to God, or even a belief that healing blindness is impossible. Instead of emulating the kindness of Jesus, who healed the man, they chose to doubt the man, undermining what should be the celebration for the gift of sight. They tried to turn neighbours against one another, parents against their child. They turned joy into fear and division. That sounds so similar to what is happening in our society today, too.

However, what if we regarded kindness as the irreducible minimum in our politics, our laws, in our social and conflict policies? What if we asked not just “What is best for society?” but also “What is the kindest thing we can advocate for?” What if we expect more kindness from each other? Would we create momentum towards the movement of kindness? A movement that will transform our lives at work, school, play, and home.

As I prepare this homily, I am keenly aware that talking about kindness seems so much like advocating for the Labour Party in this election year. I assure you that is not my intention. Rather, I would like to take the opportunity during this season to consider the kindness of Jesus towards this blind man, that we take this opportunity to reflect also on His kindness to all humanity as He journeyed to the cross on Good Friday, and in the empty tomb on Easter.

May we see His kindness, His love in action. Like the blind man, our eyes have been opened because of His act of sacramental kindness on the cross. We are renewed. Renewed sight energises us to walk in the light and extend kindness to those who are still walking in darkness.

May the God of grace provide us with every opportunity to extend kindness to this world.

Amen.