Biography
The Rev. Dr. John Claypool is one of America’s great preachers. He began his ministry in 1953 and served for more than 30 years as the pastor of Baptist churches in Kentucky, Tennessee, Texas, and Mississippi. In 1985 John became an Episcopal priest and was rector of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in Birmingham, Alabama for fourteen years. Since his retirement from parish ministry, John has served as Professor of Preaching at Mercer University’s School of Theology in Atlanta, Georgia. John is a well-known writer whose books include Tracks of a Fellow Stranger, The Preaching Event, and The Hopeful Heart.  [Biographical information is correct as of the broadcast date noted above.]

"The Creative Power of Kindness" 
One of the most dramatic episodes in the whole life of Jesus is described in the eighth chapter of John's Gospel. He was teaching one day before the Temple in Jerusalem and was suddenly interrupted by a group of very excited men who had in their midst a disheveled, frightened young woman. They said to Jesus, in high-pitched voices, “You’re not going to believe this, but we just caught this woman in the very act of adultery! Now, we know what Moses said should be done to a tramp like this. What do you say?”

It was a very awkward interruption. Jesus had no time whatsoever to prepare for it, and he also realized that these people were not just interested in the law of Moses. They were trying to trap him so as to discredit him in the eyes of the authorities in Jerusalem. To me it is a sign that Jesus was the Incarnation of Divine Wisdom to see the way that he responded to this unexpected situation. In fact the first thing he did was not to answer their question at all, but to stoop over and to begin to write with his finger in the dirt beneath his feet. This is the only time in the Gospels that we’re told that Jesus wrote anything and, therefore, there has been great interest in what it was that he shaped with his finger.

I have a feminist friend in North Carolina who insists that he wrote, “Where is the man?” That is a pretty good question, is it not? Because adultery is not something you can do by yourself. Here was a situation where a man and a woman both broke the law of Moses, but given the sexism of the first-century, only the woman was being held accountable. Only she was going to be punished. And so it was, that as Jesus wrote what he did in the dust, I think he was striking a blow against this way of mistreating half of the human family.

Someone once said that Jesus knew the difference between adjectives and nouns. Male and female are adjectives. Say something very significant, it is person or human being that is the true nominative category, and if you look all through the Gospels, Jesus never engaged in sexism. He gave to every woman he every met what he gave to every man. He really and truly embraced the whole human family in the way he related.

However, I think there is another explanation for why it was that he may have stooped over to write on the ground. If you’ll think about the circumstances of this situation, that frightened woman probably was brought into that public place either carrying her clothes in her hands or, at least, was badly disheveled. And so it was that in addition to being fearful, not knowing what was going to happen next, she also had the embarrassment of having all of those leering men looking at her in her exposed condition.

I think it may have been an act of incredible, ingenious kindness that caused Jesus to stoop over and in writing, surprisingly, in the dust he was able to deflect the eyes of these men and, therefore, gave this woman a blessed chance to get herself together. If this, in fact, is why he wrote in the dust, I think it is simply a expression of something in Jesus that was absolutely essential. And that is his heart was wondrously kind. Jesus never tried to add burdens to the already burdened. Jesus never did do things to people that made it more difficult given the difficult lives that they were living. It was said of Jesus that he never broke a bruised reed, he never quenched a smoldering flax.

There was a kindness in Jesus, a kindness that enabled him always to try to do something that would be part of the answer and not part of the problem. And it could be by deflecting the attention of those men, Jesus gave this one a wonderful chance to at least get herself together again and, therefore, conveyed to her: who you are is more important to me finally than anything that you have done.

I would like to suggest that kindness is one of the most creative and powerful things that any of us can do for another human being. It is not just confined to the first century, it’s not just something that happened long ago, everyone of us has within our reach the ability to show kindness and mercy to other people.

I once heard Fred Craddock tell of an experience that he had several years ago when he was teaching in Oklahoma. He’d had a very busy spring, he was worn out and tired. When the semester was over he and his wife went back to his native Tennessee and in order for them to have a time to reconnect and recharge their batteries, they took a few days to go up in the Smokey Mountains to a little town called Gatlinburg, Tennessee. One night they were eating in a wonderful restaurant there and as they were eating, he noticed a white-haired man beginning to make his way from table to table, obviously the maitre d’. Fred Craddock thought to himself, “I hope that man doesn’t intrude himself into what we’re doing. I’m peopled out. I don’t need to be with anymore strangers.” But sure enough in due time, the man made his way to their table, he introduced himself and asked where they were from.

Craddock said rather tersely, “We’re from Ada, Oklahoma.” The man persisted: “And what do you do?” Craddock thought he would him off and answered: “I teach homiletics,” which is the technical term for the art of preaching. He thought this mountaineer from Tennessee would not know what it was at all. To his surprise, the old man said: “Oh, so you teach preaching, do you? I have a preacher story I need to tell you,” and with that he pulled out a chair and sat down at the table with them! Craddock said to himself: “Oh, my God, not only has he intruded, but now he is going to sit here with us. I’ve heard all the preacher stories that I ever need for the rest of my life!”

But the old man continued, “I was born not far from here, just across these mountains, and my mother was not married when I was born and so the shame that fell on her fell on me as well. As early as I can remember, people looked at me with a critical eye. When I started to school, my schoolmates had an ugly word they called me that began with a ‘B’ that I had never heard before. But the worst thing was to go with my mother to town on Saturday afternoon. And though people put their hands over their mouths, I could hear what they were saying. What they were saying was: 'I wonder who his daddy is? I wonder who that boy really belongs to?’ My family did not go to church because we were afraid that people would say, 'What are trash like you doing in a holy place like this?’”

“When I was fourteen, a new preacher came to our little mountain church and I heard him speak one day in school chapel. He was kind, warm and wise, and, frankly, I was very taken with him. And so I began to slip into his church after the service started. I would sit down on the back row. I’d be careful to get out before the service was over because I didn’t want anyone accusing me of being in the wrong place. But one Sunday I got so enthralled by the sermon that the service ended before I realized we were dismissed and some old ladies queued up in the back aisle so it was impossible was me to get out! There I was an unclean person in a place of holiness. I was so anxious, standing on one foot and then on the other. As I was standing there I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and who else but the old preacher himself, looking down at me with his piercing blue eyes. He asked, ‘Whose boy are you, son? Who is your daddy?’”

“That was the question that had haunted me all my life and I did not know what to say. Tears came to my eyes, my chin began to quiver. I felt like I was coming to the very end of everything. But before I could say any words, a great smile came over the old preacher's face and he said, ‘Wait a minute! You don’t have to tell me. Why, of course! I already know. You are the son of God. God is your Daddy. Boy, you have a great heritage. I want you to go out into the world and I want you to claim it for yourself!’”

The old man said, “I don’t mean to be overly dramatic, but those two phrases: ‘You are the son of God. God is your Daddy,’ were the most incredible things that had ever said to me and, very frankly, they changed the whole course of my life.”

By this time, even Fred Craddock was enthralled and he asked, “What did you say your name was?”

The old man answered, “My name is Ben Hooper.” And then Craddock remembered that years before his grandfather had told him that on two occasions the people of Tennessee had elected as their governor a man who was born out of wedlock, and his name was Ben Hooper! This claiming of the heritage that had been given to him, first by the grace of God and then by others, gave him a whole new sense of how he viewed himself and how he lived out his life.”

Now this was a consummate act of kindness, the kind of kindness that comes straight from the heart of God. The beautiful thing about this is that everyone of us has the capacity to be kind to everybody that we meet. We may not be able to do heroic things; we may not be brilliant enough to answer every question; we may not have it in our capability to do all kinds of extraordinary feats, but everyone of us can choose to be kind to other people, not to burden them who are already burdened. We can be kind.

I want to repeat, of all the creative potencies that we humans have, nothing is any greater than a person’s saying, “What happens to you makes a difference to me,” and then extending that person the gift of kindness. I invite you, as I invite myself, to be wondrously kind, to be full of mercy. It may be the very best thing we can ever do with our lives.

Interview with John Claypool
Interviewed by Floyd Brown

Floyd Brown: John Claypool, you are a gentleman I particularly admire and over the years have enjoyed our relationship here at 30 Good Minutes. “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son so that those who believe in him shall not die but have everlasting life.” Gave his only begotten son! Is that the ultimate act of kindness in the Bible?

John Claypool: I would agree with you. That is the quintessential kind of kindness which is extending to someone something they haven’t necessarily earned, but it’s coming from the inside out. It’s what the giver chooses to do with his or her strength. It is always a gift to be kind, even in the face of unkindness or uncleanliness.

Brown: Kindness doesn’t always have to be a sacrifice.

Claypool: Exactly. And it doesn’t have to be earned either. I can be kind no matter what anybody else is doing to me and, by doing so, I think there really is a creative potential there. I think it may open up a lot of doors and the person receiving it can say, “Hey, I can do that, too.” As I said in the sermon, it’s within everybody’s reach.

Brown: Let me ask you this: of the Ten Commandments, which do you think most speaks to kindness?

Claypool: I think the first commandment, “You shall have no other gods before me,” invites us to let God be the absolute in our lives. And if God is full of mercy, full of kindness, and if I allow God to be the absolute ruler of my life, then I would suggest that kindness grows out of Godlikeness. You and I are made in God’s image. Everybody is made in God’s image which means that we are capable of being part of the answer for people and not adding to their burdens, and God knows there is enough burden in the world today already. To be kind, no matter what the circumstances, is the best that we can do and, who knows, it might really do something transforming to the other person as it did for Ben Hooper.

Brown: Thank you so much. It’s always a joy.

Claypool: Thank you.