Pillows and Bricks

After years of interacting with others, I've concluded there are four kinds of people.

Some are like bricks. They're firm, unbending, principled, and strong. They have rough edges and a solid core. They will not yield unless hammered hard. If you get into a quarrel with a brick, you will be bruised and you may be broken.

Other people are like pillows. They're soft-spoken, gentle, and easygoing. They would rather comfort than confront. You'll never get into a quarrel with a pillow, because they won't fight for anything.

But here's where it gets interesting. Some people are like bricks inside of pillows. They are kind and polite, but they hold firmly to a solid core of beliefs and values. They will bend over backward to get along with others, but they can be quite stubborn in certain situations they will not give in no matter what.

Then there's another category we could call pillows inside of bricks. These are the ones who appear hard and unapproachable on the outside, but they're actually tender—even intensely emotional—on the inside. These are the rugged guys who seem gruff and aloof at work, but they cry at concerts and get tears in their eyes when they hug their grandkids and tell them goodbye.

I think Moses was a brick with a pillow inside. He was hard-nosed and strong, a man who laid down the law—but he also showed intense compassion for the people God called him to lead.

I suspect Barnabas was a pillow with a brick inside—cheerful, encouraging, pleasant to be around, but strong when he had to be and unwilling to bend when God's truth was clear.

Christ is the perfect balance of toughness and tenderness.

Some churches (unhealthy ones) are only like bricks: firm on doctrine, hard on people. Other churches (also unhealthy ones) are only like pillows: soft on everything. In a healthy church, there's a balance of unflinching honesty mingled with mercy and grace. A healthy church constantly engages in what the apostle Paul called "speaking the truth in love."

This affects the way we approach evangelism too. To communicate with non-Christians, we must do more than hurl gospel bricks in their direction; but neither should we soft-pedal our convictions. The apostle Paul encouraged “speaking the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15). Truth and love are like the two blades of a pair of scissors: it takes both to cut the cloth.

Christ shows us the perfect balance of toughness and tenderness. He's a two-handed Savior, "full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). Truth is the hand he uses to guide us. Grace is the hand that picks us up when we fall. Truth is the Good Shepherd's rod of correction; grace is the green pasture where he makes us lie down.

Pillows and bricks both serve a valid purpose, but they need to be in the right place at the right time. You can't build a house with pillows; and neither do you want to lay your head on a brick when you go to bed at night.