“…Because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked.”

I’m sorry; it’s too generic, much too generic.  Luke 6:35 says God is…kind?  When I think of kind, I think of what we teach little kids to be.  I think of elderly grandmothers and Boy Scouts doing good deeds for a merit badge.  I think of animal enthusiasts taking care of a wounded critter, or a rescue worker helping those who are suffering from a disaster like a severe earthquake or flood.  So God is kind.  Is that breaking news?  No.  Of course God is kind!  End of discussion, right?

No again.  Not until we see what the original Greek word tells us, because it reveals something far more colorful and rich.  The word is kreestos, and it turns up in a number of surprising passages.  We’ll need to consider a few of them to get a composite picture of what it means exactly.

It helps us to know first of all that kreestos — or “kind” — can describe inanimate things.  Things like figs, wine, yokes and even manners.  Kind figs?  Kind wine?  Not exactly.  Jeremiah compares figs that are “good…very good” to those that are “so bad they cannot be eaten” (24:3, 5).  The English word “good” is our word kind.  Now let’s return to Luke 5.  Recording a parable of Jesus, the physician writes, “The old [wine] is better” (v. 39).  The illustration Jesus used is that older wine, because it is old, has a longer time to ferment, thus enhancing its flavor, making a more robust drink.  But the word “better” is our word kind.  Luke uses it almost identically as Jeremiah.  Then Paul used it to describe “manners” (NKJV, plural) in 1 Corinthians 15:33.   Finally Jesus used it again in Matthew 11:30 saying, “For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  Again the word for “easy” is kreestos.

How can we summarize these examples?  In a fallen world, kreestos means things “as they ought to be, doing what they were designed to do.”  Figs were designed to nourish and taste good.  When they do, they’re kreestos.  Wine was meant to be refreshing and flavorful.  When it is, it is kreestos.  Ditto with manners and everything else God intends for his creation.  So when Jesus said his yoke was kreestos, he is saying that we were meant — designed, created — for his yoke.  What had the Jews had up to that time?  The law, which was “a yoke of bondage” (Galatians 5:1).  The impossibility of wearing this yoke had run its course with them.  Two of its purposes had been proved: (1) The law condemns everyone and justifies no one (Gal. 3:10-11), and (2) The law “leads us to Christ, that we might be justified by faith” (3:24).  In other words, Jesus’ yoke is “better” (kreestos) not only because we needed to be saved, but also because in our salvation we find what we were missing all along: a relationship with God himself.  This is they way it should be.  Harvard professor Hebert Benson says that human beings are “wired for God.”  Bingo.

Regarding people, we discover that they are not kind naturally.  There is “no one that who does good (kreestos), not even one” (Romans 3:12).  When people are mean or cruel to us, we typically answer “in kind” toward them!  So believers are exhorted to be “kind (kreestos) to one another” (Ephesians 4:30).  But when we return to Luke 6, which says that the Most High is “kind,” it hits us.  God neither lives in a fallen world nor is subject to evil.  Thus, he is not what he should be in the sense of becoming kreestos, he already is!  The gulf between him and us is greater than the 93 million miles between earth and sun.

So why did Jesus say in Luke 6:35, “love your enemies”?  Because God does.  Why should we “do good to them”?  Because he does.  Why should we “lend to them without expecting to be repaid in full”?  Because God does: “he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked.”  Backing up even farther (v. 28), why did Jesus say, “bless those who curse you”?  Because he did.  Why should we “pray for those who mistreat you”?  Because he did.  Why should we “do to others as you would have them do to you” (v. 31)?  Because that’s kreestos.  That’s what Jesus did, because he is “kind.”

Suddenly “kind” doesn’t quite cut it.  No longer are we thinking of grandmothers and animal lovers.  We are jolted by our selfishness and our complete incapacity to be kreestos on our own.  Oh, how we need him who is and has been and ever will be kreestos to us!  And his command to be kind is not a cruel joke.  It reminds us to seek him with all our hearts, for kreestos is a fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22).  When was the last time you sought him for this kindness?  When was it last visible in your life?