It Costs Nothing to Be Kind (Acts 3:6)

The Transformative Power of Kindness: When Compassion Costs Nothing

In a world where everything seems to have a price tag, where government assistance programs face uncertain futures, and where economic anxiety touches nearly every household, there's one commodity that remains absolutely free yet infinitely valuable: kindness.

We're living through unprecedented times. Nobody predicted the cascading challenges of 2025. The government shutdowns, the economic uncertainty, the social divisions that seem to grow wider each day—these weren't on anyone's prophetic radar. In this climate of fear, anxiety, and exhaustion, we find ourselves navigating a landscape that feels increasingly hostile and unpredictable.

Yet it's precisely in these turbulent times that our faith is meant to shine brightest. As James reminds us, we should "consider it a sheer gift when tests and challenges come at you from all sides." Why? Because under pressure, our faith life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. This isn't the time to retreat into self-preservation; it's the moment when those who follow Christ are called to show up strongest.

A Story of Transformation at the Temple Gate

The book of Acts, chapter three, presents us with a powerful encounter that illustrates the revolutionary nature of simple kindness. Peter and John are heading to the temple for prayer at three o'clock in the afternoon—a customary practice they maintained even as part of this new Christian movement. At the gate called Beautiful, they encounter a man who has been lame from birth.

This man's situation represents more than physical disability. He embodies systemic struggle—a lifetime of marginalization, dependence, and rejection. Every single day, someone had to carry him to this spot. Every day, he sat with his head down, cup extended, unable even to make eye contact with those passing by. He had become so accustomed to his circumstances that he no longer hoped for healing; he only hoped for enough coins to survive another day.

His reality was survival, not deliverance. Sound familiar?

Many of us live in that same cycle—making just enough to pay current bills, to keep gas in the car, to make it to the next paycheck that will repeat the same pattern. We're not thinking about emergency funds or paying off debt or moving forward. We're scratching and surviving, trapped in a system that demands everything but offers little hope of escape.

The Power of Being Seen

What Peter does next changes everything, and it doesn't cost him a penny.

When the lame man asks for money, Peter responds with something unexpected: "Look at us." These two simple words carry profound weight. In a constant stream of foot traffic, coin dropping, and silence, someone finally speaks directly to him. Not about him. Not at him. But to him.

Peter doesn't see a beggar. He sees a person.

This distinction matters enormously. We speak to people, not to furniture or objects. When you greet someone, when you acknowledge their presence with eye contact and kind words, you're reminding them that they have value, that they are seen, that they matter.

Think about the power of a greeting. In Luke's Gospel, when Mary greets her cousin Elizabeth, the baby in Elizabeth's womb leaps at the sound of her voice. A simple greeting has the power to activate something dormant, to stir up hope, to remind someone of their humanity.

How many people have we passed by today without acknowledgment? How many times have we talked about people rather than to them? How often do we rely on secondhand information and gossip instead of picking up the phone and having an actual conversation?

Restoring Humanity Through Humility

Peter tells the man, "Silver and gold I do not have, but what I do have I give to you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk." Then he does something radical—he reaches out his hand and touches the man.

In that culture, this man was considered unclean. Touching him would make Peter ceremonially unclean as well. There's a crowd watching. People are heading to prayer. Yet Peter doesn't hesitate. He extends his hand—not waiting for the man to reach up, but reaching down to lift him up.

This is what it means to restore humanity through acts of humility. Peter was willing to risk being seen as unclean, to risk the opinions of the religious crowd, in order to help this man stand. He wasn't concerned about what people thought; he was concerned about what God required.

Jesus modeled this consistently. When He came down from the Sermon on the Mount, the first person He encountered was a leper—and Jesus touched him. He didn't have to touch to heal, but He did it to demonstrate something crucial: no one is beyond the reach of God's love and restoration.

The Results of Radical Kindness

What happens next is remarkable. The man's feet and ankles are immediately strengthened. He goes from sitting to standing, from isolation to community. His entire perspective changes—literally. When you're sitting, everyone towers over you. When you stand, you can look people in the eye.

But he doesn't stop there. He walks into the temple with Peter and John—not ahead of them, but with them. He's no longer excluded, sitting outside while others worship. He's now part of the community, insulated by people who vouch for him, who walk with him, who validate his presence.

And he doesn't enter quietly. He walks in "leaping and praising God." His witness leads to worship. The people who had passed him by day after day suddenly recognize him and are "filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him."

It's one thing to read about God's power. It's another thing entirely to witness it.

The Cost of Kindness: Absolutely Nothing

Here's the remarkable truth: this entire transformation happened without spending a single coin. Peter didn't have money to give, but he had something far more valuable—compassion, connection, and the willingness to see a person instead of a problem.

In our capitalism-driven world where everything has a price, kindness remains the one community-building commodity that costs nothing. Your kindness not only builds community but shows others Jesus Christ in a way that transforms lives.

We encounter people every day who carry systemic struggles we know nothing about. They've faced rejection after rejection. They're fixated on survival, not deliverance. We don't know what it took for them to show up, to ask for help, to risk one more rejection.

It costs nothing to greet them with a smile. It costs nothing to speak to them rather than about them. It costs nothing to extend a hand, to make a phone call, to send an encouraging message, to acknowledge their presence and value.

In these challenging times, when so much feels uncertain and resources seem scarce, we have an opportunity to be stewards of the one thing that never runs out: kindness. It's the key that unlocks doors, restores humanity, builds community, and reveals the heart of God to a world desperate to witness His power.

The question isn't whether we can afford to be kind. The question is whether we can afford not to be.