Restoring Kingdom Builders

Have you ever known someone who was just too nice?

Many years ago, my wife and I went on a long road trip with another married couple.  (The husband and I had become good friends.)  When you’re living with someone 24/7 – as TV’s reality shows reveal – you begin to see who people really are.  While we can be on our best behavior during programmed encounters – like at work or in social situations – people tend to demonstrate their true character when they’re under stress.

And nothing unveils character like a road trip.

During the trip, my wife and I disagreed with the other couple over several things.  For example, I wanted to attend church on Sunday morning, while they wanted to plow on and make time toward our ultimate destination.  In addition, the other wife continually corrected things that my wife and I said, making us gradually withdraw from conversation.

But my friend, who drove during much of the trip, never displayed any negative emotions.  He didn’t show any anger, or irritation, or regret.  In fact, he was close to being perfect in the way he behaved on that trip.

While he wasn’t perfect, he had mastered the skill of being nice.

And sometimes, being too nice is foolish.

In Mark Galli’s recent book, Jesus: Mean and Wild, the author guides the reader on a journey of the Gospel of Mark and shows us the real Jesus.

In his chapter “It’s Not Nice to be Nice,” Galli illustrates incidents of non-niceness in Jesus’ life and then asks this question: “If Jesus was merely loving, compassionate, and kind – if Jesus was only nice – why did both Jews and Romans feel compelled to murder him?”

Good question.

Galli goes on to write, “Christians are often fascinated with the Religion of Niceness because it appears to champion biblical virtues such as humility, forgiveness, and mercy.  This religion so permeates our consciousness that when we hear someone quote the second Great Commandment, the epitome of Christian ethics, we tend to hear: ‘Be nice to your neighbor, as you would have your neighbor be nice to you.'”

In other words, we’ve substituted being nice for being loving … but the two are not the same.

Galli goes on to indict us for the way we use niceness to avoid conflict:

“Thus we learn not to make a fuss in school, at work, in life.  We quickly discover that people respond positively to us when we are nice to them and negatively when we aren’t.  Since it feels good to be liked, we get addicted to being nice.  And this addiction skews our reasoning.”

Galli then tells about an Episcopalian church that he once attended.  Even though the church at the national level was debating the issue of homosexuality, Galli’s church chose to avoid discussing the issue altogether.  He says that their unspoken motto was, “Let’s just agree to disagree and go about our life together.”

But the issue wouldn’t go away, as most controversial issues don’t.  When the denomination installed a noncelibate homosexual as a bishop in 2003, Galli’s church was forced to discuss the issue of homosexuality.  He writes:

“We were shocked to discover that we had two different congregations – with radically different assumptions about the most basic things.  Since we had no track record of speaking the truth in love to one another, we found ourselves shouting at each other.  It was, to say the least, extremely painful, and it wasn’t long before the church divided.”

And then his next paragraph underscores why Christian leaders need to be more open in discussing areas of conflict in churches rather than just “sweep them under the rug”:

“Better to have addressed these issues years earlier in a frank and charitable manner – even though raising such issues would have broken the code of Episcopal decorum.  An earlier conversation would have left some feeling alienated, and some would have left.  But that would have been preferable to the congregation literally splitting in two later on.”

In other words, our Christian niceness makes us avoid conflict … which leads to even greater conflict later on.

For those of us who have been taught that “being nice” is the same as “being loving,” let me quote Galli one more time:

“Jesus was a sharp judge of character, and he employed anger even when he was aware it wasn’t going to do any good.  Why?  Because sometimes the most honest and truthful response to foolishness or evil is anger.  Jesus couldn’t have integrity if he was indifferent.  The person who is always nice, always decorous, always even-keeled is likely a person who ultimately does not care about what God cares about.”

Wow.

God doesn’t call His people to be uncivil, or rude, or obnoxious.  We don’t emulate or honor Jesus that way.  But He does call us to address certain issues head-on, with strength and assertiveness.

When our son was small, our family lived on a semi-busy residential street.  My wife and I made it clear that he was not to go into the street for any reason.

One Saturday morning, he was playing with a ball, and it went out into the street, and he tried to chase it down … and almost got hit by a car.

My wife and I responded with anger and grounded our son for the day.  We made it clear to him that his disobedience could have cost him his life.  He had to stay in his room for hours and think about his folly.

We wanted our disciplinary measure to sting.

We let him out at dinner time and reiterated to him how much we loved him and why we confined him for the day.

We were’t very nice, but we were extremely loving.

And we were loving because we cared about him and his future enough to get upset and do something about it.

Where in your life are you avoiding conflict?

With whom are you dodging that tough conversation?

It’s all right to be nice in the way that you approach conflict.

Just make sure that being nice isn’t your goal in life.

And that being loving is.