This Christmas began gently.
With good people.
With open hearts.
With an ease I had almost forgotten was possible.
After the year I’ve endured, it felt… restorative.
A reminder that decency still exists – not loudly, not performatively, but naturally.
On Sunday, I went to church.
🕊️ A Sermon About Joseph
The sermon was given by a lawyer – now a decan – speaking about Joseph, Mary’s husband.
Joseph, he reminded us, was righteous.
But more importantly, Joseph was kind.
Not kind because he had to be.
Not kind because it benefited him.
Kind when it would have been easier to be harsh.
Kind when rules, reputation, and outrage could have justified cruelty.
Joseph had every legal, social, and moral excuse to act otherwise.
And he didn’t.
⚖️ Righteousness Without Kindness
That distinction stayed with me.
Because righteousness without kindness is easy.
It hides behind process.
It sounds calm.
It feels justified.
Kindness is harder.
Kindness requires restraint.
Imagination.
The ability to see a person – not a problem.
Joseph chose not to expose.
Not to punish.
Not to escalate.
He chose discretion over dominance.
That choice defines him more than any title ever could.
🌫️ The Absence That Speaks
Listening to that sermon, I realized something quietly devastating:
How little kindness I have experienced here.
Emails without humanity.
Processes without mercy.
Decisions without curiosity.
A great deal of righteousness.
Very little kindness.
🕯️ Why This Matters
Kindness is not softness.
It is moral strength.
It is the choice to limit harm when harm is available.
To pause when power invites action.
To protect dignity when exposure is possible.
Joseph had power.
And he used it to shield, not to wound.
That is not weakness.
That is character.
🎄 A Christmas Thought
This season speaks endlessly of values – but it is actions that reveal which ones we truly hold.
Some people follow rules impeccably.
Others follow conscience.
Joseph reminds us that the two are not always the same —
and that when they diverge, kindness is the truer test of righteousness.
That thought stayed with me long after the sermon ended.
And it should.
