In a culture that prizes politeness, smiles, and keeping the peace, it can be easy to confuse niceness with kindness. The two may look similar from the outside, but at their core, they are very different—and as followers of Christ, we are called to something deeper than surface-level pleasantness.
Niceness often seeks approval.
Kindness seeks alignment with love.
Niceness avoids discomfort.
Kindness is willing to enter discomfort for the sake of truth, healing, and grace.
Nice people don’t rock the boat.
Kind people sometimes flip the boat over if injustice is drowning someone beneath it.
The Fruit We’re Called to Bear
Galatians 5:22–23 lists kindness—not niceness—as a fruit of the Spirit. That’s not an accident. Kindness, in the biblical sense, is active, Spirit-empowered love. It is rooted in compassion and often requires courage. It means showing up with integrity, even when it’s awkward or inconvenient.
Kindness is what moved the Good Samaritan to stop and care for a man beaten and left for dead. It cost him time, resources, and comfort—but he was moved by compassion (Luke 10:25–37). Kindness requires action. It doesn’t simply feel sorry. It does something.
Niceness might have walked by and whispered a prayer.
Kindness crossed the road and bound up wounds.
Niceness Can Be a Mask
Many of us, especially those raised in environments where “good Christian girls” or “strong Christian men” were expected to always smile, always submit, always agree, learned to value niceness above truth. We learned to shrink our voice, sidestep tension, or smooth things over to keep others comfortable.
But Jesus never asked us to be agreeable at the cost of truth.
He challenged the Pharisees. He told the rich young ruler to give up everything. He asked hard things of His disciples. He didn’t perform niceness to be accepted—He embodied truth in love. And love sometimes sounds like:
“No more.”
“That hurt me.”
“I won’t enable this behavior.”
“I’m stepping away.”
Or simply: “I disagree.”
Kindness in Practice
Kindness doesn’t mean being a doormat. It doesn’t mean ignoring red flags, tolerating abuse, or abandoning boundaries. In fact, kindness is what helps us set boundaries and hold them with grace.
Kindness says:
- “I respect you enough to be honest.”
- “I love you enough to say what’s hard.”
- “I see your dignity, and I will not participate in harm.”
- “I trust the Holy Spirit to work in your heart, even if I step away.”
Whether you are leading a ministry, parenting a child, setting boundaries with a toxic family member, or sitting beside a friend in pain—kindness means showing up with truth, humility, and love.
It means speaking the hard word gently.
It means holding someone accountable without shaming them.
It means being slow to anger, but not passive in the face of harm.
The Church Needs Kindness More Than Niceness
There’s a particular danger when the church confuses niceness with Christlikeness. We silence victims to “keep the peace.” We avoid conflict in the name of unity. We hide broken systems behind friendly smiles. But this is not the gospel.
The gospel doesn’t offer shallow peace. It offers shalom—wholeness, justice, healing. That kind of peace comes through truth, not around it.
The church should be the safest place for people to be seen, known, and told the truth in love—not a place where people are placated or dismissed with pleasantries. That kind of “niceness” doesn’t heal. It hurts.
Jesus didn’t call us to be pleasant. He called us to be peacemakers. And peacemakers—real ones—aren’t afraid to name what’s broken before they begin to mend it.
When You’re Tired of Being Nice
If you’ve grown weary of performing niceness… if you’re learning to use your voice after years of silence… if you’ve confused going along with going the extra mile—take heart.
It is not unchristian to say no.
It is not unloving to speak truth.
It is not sinful to walk away from people or patterns that damage your soul.
Kindness may look like grace. It may look like truth. Often, it looks like both.
Sometimes kindness is a warm meal.
Sometimes it’s a hard conversation.
Sometimes it’s a boundary.
Sometimes it’s walking with someone through their valley—not because it’s convenient, but because love compels you.
Kindness is not always nice.
But it is always loving.
A Closing Prayer
Jesus, You are the perfect embodiment of kindness—full of grace and truth.
Teach us to love like You.
Give us wisdom to know when to speak, and when to be still.
Give us courage to be kind even when it costs us.
Help us shed the need to be nice in order to be faithful.
Let Your Spirit grow kindness in us—strong, rooted, and real.
Amen.