Practicing Kindness and Compassion

 I like to read. Always have. As a kid I rode my bike to our local library with my friends to browse and check out books. When I met my wife, we spent our evenings together in the library at Baylor University and, across the years, libraries have remained one of our favorite places to visit on our “dates.”

  Once in awhile, a book sticks with me. Same Kind of Different as Me is one of those books that stuck. Based on a true story, the book was made into a movie in 2017 starring Renee Zellweger.

Same Kind of Different As Me is two stories. One, the story of an illiterate black man named Denver who was raised in the cotton fields of Louisiana and ended up homeless on the streets of Fort Worth. The other, an upwardly mobile white man named Ron Hall who graduated from TCU and made a fortune in the art world. They each tell their story, and the remarkable intersection of their journeys.

Maybe I was drawn to the book because Ron Hall spent his childhood summers on a farm near my boyhood home of Corsicana. His descriptions of Corsicana resonated with my memories growing up on Collin Street, one of the signature brick streets that reflect the glory days when the city boasted more millionaires per capita than any other town in Texas. Maybe I was drawn to the book because Ron and Denver intersect in the slums of Fort Worth east of downtown where my wife started her teaching career fifty years ago.

But the true stories of Ron Hall and Denver Moore are not the main stories in the book. They represent other stories: the story of our country and its culture. Ron represents those who rise from middle class with professional opportunities that can lead to great wealth. He also represents the dangers of that path that include temptations for greed, materialism, shallow and broken relationships. Denver represents the alarmingly huge segment of our population that falls between the cracks, victims of prejudice, oppression, injustice and neglect. He also represents the dangers of that downward spiral that includes temptations of bitterness, anger, isolation and despair.

The greatest story underlying and connecting all of these is God’s story. Ron’s wife, Deborah is the entry point for His work, one person who was open, willing and obedient who became the catalyst for connecting these two broken men from different ends of the social spectrum.

In a day when many look to government to heal our wounds and solve our social problems, Same Kind of Different As Me serves as a reminder that the real solution to our personal and social problems lies within us. It is often buried beneath our own prejudices and fears, but it can be unlocked and released with the keys of acceptance, trust, faith and love, all the things Jesus demonstrated and talked about.

God wants to use each of us, whatever our race, whatever our circumstance, whatever our background to make a difference in the world. “Thus has the Lord of hosts said, ‘Dispense true justice, and practice kindness and compassion each to his brother; and do not oppress the widow or the orphan, the stranger or the poor; and do not devise evil in your hearts against one another,” (Zechariah 7:8-10).

How Immense Is God?

In the 1960s J. B. Phillips wrote a book entitled, Your God is Too Small. The title can apply to all of us.  Our understanding of God is always too small.  Our finite minds have limited comprehension of the infinite power and presence of God. In his introduction Phillips wrote, “God is immeasurably ‘bigger’ than our forefathers imagined, and modern scientific discovery only confirms their belief that man has only just begun to comprehend the complex Being who is behind what we call ‘life.’”

 Once in awhile science gives us a hint.   Voyager 1’s almost 50-year-old journey to the edge of the Solar System does just that.  Next year, November 2026, Voyager 1 will achieve a literal “milestone.”  Launched in 1977, traveling at 38,025 mph, Voyager 1 will reach 1 light day from earth, the distance light travels in one day.  50 years and it is just now on the doorstep of interstellar space.  Of course, one light year requires 365 light days.  So, it will take another 17,500 years for Voyager to travel one light year from earth. 

 The nearest star to earth is Proxima Centauri, 4.25 light years away.  Since Voyager 1 has already been traveling 50 years, it should reach Proxima Centauri in another 74,325 years. The most distant star from earth, that we know of, is 28 billion light years away.  Our universe is incredibly immense.  That being the case, consider how immense the Creator is.  This is why the Bible says God is “from everlasting to everlasting.”  To God “1,000 years is like yesterday when it passes,” (Psalm 90). 

 In his book, Rumors of Another World, Philip Yancey wrote, “I find more of a spirit of reverence among secular science writers than in some theologians.  The wisest among them admit that all our widening knowledge merely expresses our more-widening pool of ignorance.”

 Albert Einstein stated, “The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science.  He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.”

 C. S. Lewis cited the source of intelligence as his turning point from atheism to faith, and eventually Christianity.  The intelligent source of all creation wrote himself into His own creation when “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.”

 John expressed the immense mystery of God and incarnation in this way, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God.  All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him not even one thing came into being that has come into being. In Him was life, and the life was the Light of mankind.  And the Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not ^[grasp it,” (John 1:1-5).

What's In It For Me?

 October baseball is here.  Major League teams have played 162 games over six months for this moment.  Stadiums are packed with hopeful fans. The Blue Jays and Yankees finished with identical won-loss records, but the Blue Jays win the tiebreaker based on their head-to-head record.  The Yankees will have to get past Boston to play the Blue Jays again.  Detroit will have to get past Cleveland to play Seattle. In the National League, LA must win over Cincinnatti to Play the Phillies.  The Cubs and San Diego fight it out to play the Brewers.  There is nothing quite like baseball.

 The 1989 movie, Field of Dreams is rated number five among the favorite baseball movies of all time. In the story, Ray Kinsella responds to a “voice” that urges him to build a baseball diamond, complete with lights, in the middle of his Iowa corn field.  After doing everything the “voice” commands him to do, Ray is stunned to see Shoeless Joe Jackson and some of the greats of the game emerge from his cornfield to play the game as they did in their youth.

 The story climaxes with an invitation from Shoeless Joe to join them in the cornfield, a dimension beyond the edges of this world. But Ray, who has risked everything to build the field, is not invited. Instead, Jackson invites the cynical 1960s writer, Terrence Mann.  Ray explodes in a fit of frustration demanding, “What’s in it for me?”  To which Shoeless Joe asks, “Is that why you did this Ray, for what’s in it for you?”                                                       

It is a good question.  According to experts in marketing, it is the question we all ask when we consider purchasing any product or joining any organization. In our age of seeker-sensitive churches, it seems to be the dominant question asked by anyone considering a church. “What’s in it for me?” But, is it the right question?

 When Jesus invited Peter, James and John to leave their home, their families and their boats, I wonder how He would have responded if they had asked, “What’s in it for me?” Perhaps He would have responded as He did when the young man with great possessions refused to give up his wealth.  How much do we miss of what God has for us because we are so focused on “What’s in it for me?”

Jesus’ invitation to join Him on life’s eternal journey sounds strangely different than our twenty-first century marketing plans.  Jesus said, “If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.” (Matthew 16:24-25). 

Perhaps what is “in it” for us is the same thing that was “in it” for Jesus: the pleasure that comes from obedience to the Father. “My food,” Jesus said, “is to do the will of Him who sent Me” (John  4:34).  When the Apostle Paul reached the end of his journey, he measured it in this way, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith;” (2 Timothy 4:7). “I did not prove disobedient to the Heavenly vision.” (Acts 26:19).

What Does God Want

 When I listen to myself pray, and when I listen to others pray, it seems that most of what we say to God revolves around what we want.  Sometimes our lists are heart-rending.  We desire healing from a deadly disease, comfort from the loss of someone we love, a job and a paycheck. More often, our prayers are day-to-day: a passing grade on the exam, strength to get through another day at work, safe travel.  Sometimes they are trivial:  a victory on the football field, our favorite team in the playoffs.  Most of our prayers are filled with the things that we want God to do for us.

 But sometimes I wonder, what does God want?

 Maybe he wants a great cathedral constructed in His honor, a building that rises out of the concrete and towers over the city with majestic spires and stained glass windows. Perhaps he wants a more modern structure that resembles the headquarters of a major corporation or a shopping mall. Something designed to make a statement to the world that God is important.

 Maybe He wants music. Perhaps God wants classical music like Ode to Joy, or Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring.  Or, maybe he prefers contemporary music: amplifiers, electric guitars, drums, drums and more drums.  Maybe God prefers Blue Grass or Country.  Who knows?  I sometimes wonder what we will sing in Heaven.

Maybe God likes His own sounds: thunder in the heavens, the whisper of wind in the wings of a bird, echoes in a canyon, a babbling brook or the powerful rush of Niagara Falls.

 The Bible gives some pretty good clues about what God wants. 

 In Isaiah’s day, God made it clear that He was fed up with efforts to impress Him with religious behavior. He said, “When you come to appear before Me, who requires of you this trampling of My courts?

Bring your worthless offerings no longer. … Cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, reprove the ruthless, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.  Come now, and let us reason together,” Says the Lord, “Though your sins are as scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson,
they will be like wool.” (Isaiah 1:12-18).

 When I think about how I feel as a parent, this makes perfect sense.  I am happiest as a parent when my children are together, when I hear them laughing, when they enjoy one another and go out of their way to help each other.  Of course, I want them to love me.  But somehow I feel like they love me best when they are loving each other.

 Many people assume that God measures our love for Him by how religious we become.  But John set us straight when he wrote, “One who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen.”  (1 John 4:20).

 The bottom line is this:  God wants us to get along with each other.  He wants people to be kind to each other, to do good things and help each other. Jesus said,  “If you love me you will keep my commandments.  … This is my commandment.  That you love one another, just as I have loved you.”  (John 14:15; 15:12).

Remembering Buddy

 I stumbled across an old prayer:  “Lord, help me to be the man my dog thinks I am.” Anyone who has a dog will understand that prayer.  It took almost a year for me to convince my wife I should have a dog.  We had dogs when we were raising the kids, but they weren’t my dog.  They belonged to the kids and the family.  After the kids grew up, I decided I wanted my own dog, and she finally gave in, as long as I promised to take care of him. She grew to love him as much as I did and made sure he was cared for.

 My dog’s name was Buddy, a tri-color corgi who was with me most of his life.  We adopted him 16 years ago from Corgi rescue.  He had been picked up off the streets, skinny, sick and lost.  We bonded.  He wanted to be wherever I was and go wherever I went.  I usually get up about 6:30 in the morning, brew a cup of coffee and go outside on our deck to watch the sunrise, meditate and pray.  Buddy went with me. He sat nearby, sniffed the air and thought his “dog” thoughts.

 After breakfast Buddy went to my study, found his spot under my desk, and started the day’s work, napping while I wrote.  If I went downstairs to watch a ball game, Buddy stood at the top of the stairs and waited to be invited.  If I didn’t invite him, he eventually came anyway. 

 We used to go on long walks every day, usually two miles.  We had several routes which he marked on trees, fire hydrants and bushes. He always checked for “pee-mail” left by other dogs. In his later years Buddy developed arthritis in his right front leg.  Walks of a half mile or more left him limping.  Sometimes he was unable to put weight on the leg for a day or more. So, we stopped taking walks other than poop and pee walks.  The vet continued to say he was a “healthy geriatric.”  My grandchildren calculated his age in “dog years” and informed me that he is 90 years old.

 Buddy apparently thought a lot of me, even when I didn’t think much of myself. When I returned from a trip, he was beside himself. He whimpered, danced and barked like a puppy, overjoyed to see me.  When I was in a foul mood, he wasn’t.  He just waited for me to feel better.  Once, when I was overcome with grief, he jumped into my lap to comfort me.

 Across the years Buddy taught me many lessons:  patience, forgiveness, trust, acceptance.  Finally, he taught me how to grow old. Buddy never complained, had no regrets and woke up happy to greet the morning. Unfortunately, a Corgi’s life expectancy is 12 to 13 years.  Buddy made it to 14.  We had to “let him go” in January of 2022. 

 Now that I am growing old in human years, thoughts of Buddy remind me of God’s promise.  “Listen to me … you whom I have upheld since your birth, and have carried since you were born.  Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you.  I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and rescue you” (Isaiah 46:3-5).   “Bless the Lord O my soul … who satisfies your years with good things so that your youth is renewed as the eagle.” 

Bill Tinsley's chilcren's book, Buddy the Floppy Ear Corgi, is FREE on Amazon September 13-17 as an eBook. 

Acts of Kindness

 Sully Sullenberger, the captain who skillfully landed US Airways flight 1549 on the Hudson River on January 15, 2009, became a household name.  After striking a flock of geese that disabled the engines, Sullenberger flew the plane like a giant glider and landed safely on the Hudson River saving the lives of 155 people on board.  For thirty years Sullenberger flew airplanes in an uneventful career.  This one act made him a national hero. The event was captured in the movie, Sully, starring Tom Hanks.

 Unlike Sullenberger, few took notice of Julien Duret, a French tourist who plunged into New York’s East River to save a two-year-old child. When Julien Duret saw Bridget Sheridan slip through the guard rail and fall into the river, he did not hesitate.  He immediately jumped into the river to save her. Later, amid all the commotion, he took a taxi and disappeared without waiting to be thanked. Like most heroes, he did not consider himself heroic.

  Few of us will be given such significant opportunities to perform heroic feats that make the news.  And even if the heroic opportunity were given to us, we might miss it. 

 Celebrated heroic actions make a difference.  They burst upon us like a torrential downpour that sweeps us off our feet. But it is the little-known acts of kindness that often make the greatest difference.  They are like the raindrops that pool into freshwater lakes and nourish the earth.  

 Jesus recognized the importance of heroic and sacrificial actions.  He said, “Greater love hath no man than to lay down his life for his friend.”  Of course, this is what He did when He went to the cross and laid his life down for us. But He also taught the importance of little acts of kindness.  In fact, it might very well be that the little acts of kindness we choose to do every day have a far greater impact in transforming the world than a few famous acts of heroism.

 All of us have opportunity every day to perform little acts of kindness.  We all have opportunity to let someone else in line before us, to hold a door open for a stranger, to speak a kind and encouraging word to the cashier who wearily scans countless items at the checkout counter.  We can all be kind to a waitress who works for a minimum wage to support her child, or a student working nights to pay for college. 

 A friend recounted his visit to Arby’s.  Completing a cell phone call, he watched from his car as a large woman frantically searched the back seat of her car. He asked if there was a problem. She told him she had a roll of quarters she was going to use to buy lunch, but she could not find them.  He pulled out a $10 bill and asked, “Will this help?”  She refused.  He insisted.  Inside he stood behind the rattled woman as she thanked him profusely.  She said, “God sent you, you know.”   When the cashier delivered his order she said, “The manager was watching and he went ahead and gave you a free sandwich.” 

 Little acts of kindness add up. All put together, they can change the world. Jesus said, “In that you have done it to the least of these, you have done it to Me” (Matthew 25:40).

Tinsley's novel, We Beheld His Glory is free as an eBook on Amazon September 9-11.

Importance of Character and Decency

 It has been seven years since John McCain died.   I always admired the Senator for his courage and heroism as a Vietnam POW.  I admired him even more for his character as an elected official and candidate for President.

 He provided his own assessments regarding himself and his life: his 1991 memoirs, Faith of My Fathers and the book written just before his death, The Restless Wave.  Both books are well written, engaging, inspiring and, in some cases, prophetic.

 The first book opens with words from the hymn, “Faith of Our Fathers.”  In the second he states,  “What God and good luck provide we must accept with gratitude. Our time is our time. It’s up to us to make the most of it, make it amount to more than the sum of our days.” 

 What stands out in my mind regarding John McCain is his decency, his respect for other people, even his adversaries.  On Memorial Day 1993, he returned to Hanoi, the place where he had been imprisoned and tortured.  Over the next two years he gave leadership that resulted in normalized relations with Vietnam. Vietnam’s foreign minister said, “It was he who took the lead to significantly heal the wounds of war.”

 I remember the moment during his 2008 campaign for the Presidency.  He was speaking in a high school near Minneapolis, taking questions from the audience.  A woman was handed the microphone.  She said, “I do not believe in, I can’t trust Obama.  I’ve read about him and he’s not a … he’s an Arab.” 

 McCain quickly reached for the mike and corrected her. “No ma’am.” He said, “He’s a decent family man and citizen that I just happen to have disagreements with.”  When others tried to label Obama as a terrorist and a Muslim, McCain stated, “He is a decent person and a person you don’t have to be scared of as President of the United States.” 

 At Senator McCain’s request, Presidents Obama and George W. Bush were scheduled to speak at his funeral.

 Even more than his legendary heroism as a POW for 5 years in Vietnam, McCain’s most important legacy might well be his commitment to decency, respect, honesty, integrity and humility, character qualities that can guide us to a better future.

 These are the Christian qualities demonstrated by Jesus toward the poor, the outcast and His own accusers, including the very soldiers who crucified Him.  They are the qualities exhorted by the Apostle Paul who challenged believers “to be ready for every good deed; to malign no one, to be peaceable, gentle, showing every consideration for all men.” (Titus 3:1-2).