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Romans 2:4 “Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance?”

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Most of us are more familiar with performance-based love than we realize. If you behave well, you’re accepted. If you mess up, you’re punished. That’s the rhythm of much of the world around us. From report cards to performance reviews, from dating apps to job interviews, the message is clear: do well, and you’re in. Fail, and you’re out.

So when we hear that God is kind, patient, and rich in mercy, it can be easy to misunderstand what that actually means. We might think, “If he hasn’t punished me yet, maybe he’s not going to.” Or, “If he’s being kind, maybe my sin isn’t such a big deal.” Paul steps in to correct that thinking.

Romans 2:4 begins with a warning: “Do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness…?” That’s strong language. Contempt means “to treat something as beneath you, as worthless or irrelevant.” In other words, Paul is saying that when we treat God's patience as permission, we are not just misunderstanding his grace. We’re disrespecting it.

The world often assumes that kindness equals weakness. But in the kingdom of God, kindness is power in restraint. It is love in action. It is God holding back what we deserve in order to draw us toward what we don’t. And that drawing is not manipulation. It’s invitation.

The Greek word for repentance is metanoia, which means “a change of mind that results in a change of direction.” Repentance isn’t about groveling. It’s about turning. Turning away from sin, self, and pride, and turning toward the grace and truth of Jesus. And Paul says that the spark behind that turning is God’s kindness.

Think about how people typically respond to being confronted. If someone yells, criticizes harshly, or shames us, we often shut down or lash out. But if someone sits with us, speaks truth gently, and shows care even in correction, something in us softens. That’s the power of God’s kindness. It doesn’t ignore sin. It meets sin with mercy so that we might turn, not run.

Imagine a doctor discovering a dangerous but treatable condition in a patient. She doesn’t scream, guilt, or shame. She calmly says, “Here’s what’s wrong. But there’s hope. Here’s how we heal.” That is what God does for us. His kindness tells the truth. His patience gives us time. His grace offers the cure.

But Paul warns us not to mistake that patience for indifference. Just because the consequences haven’t hit yet doesn’t mean the choices don’t matter. God’s kindness is not a get-out-of-jail-free card. It’s the key that unlocks the door to real freedom—freedom that begins with repentance.

This can be hard for us to accept because we often want quicker justice for others and slower justice for ourselves. We want God to hold back on us but crack down on them. Yet Paul flips that thinking on its head. He reminds us that the very patience we demand from God is the same patience he extends to others. And it is all motivated by the same desire—that we would turn and live.

C.S. Lewis wrote, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain.” Sometimes, that pain is the delayed weight of our own decisions. Sometimes it is the ache of being far from the God who created us. But even in that pain, God’s kindness is speaking. He’s not yelling from a distance. He’s inviting us to come home.

And here’s the beauty of it all: repentance is not something we muster up on our own. It is a response to God’s grace already at work. His kindness reaches us first. His Spirit convicts us gently but persistently. And when we respond, we are not met with cold indifference or withheld affection. We are met with the open arms of a Father who has been patiently waiting.

If we truly grasped the depth of that kindness, we wouldn’t delay our repentance. We wouldn’t justify our sin or explain it away. We would run toward the One who sees us fully and still chooses mercy. The One who could have turned away but chose instead to turn toward us, even at the cost of the cross.

God’s kindness is not casual. It is costly. And it is never meant to be taken lightly. It confronts us not to crush us but to call us. And the question today is not whether God is kind. It is whether we will let that kindness change us.

Apply

Today, take a quiet moment to reflect on how God has been patient with you. Instead of rushing past it or brushing it off, let his kindness sink in. Think about a specific area of your life where you’ve been resisting repentance—whether it’s a habit, an attitude, or a relationship. Ask God to help you see it clearly, not through the lens of shame, but through the lens of his grace. Write a prayer of repentance in your own words, not as a formula, but as a real response to his love. Let his kindness move you toward freedom, not away from it.

Pray

Father, thank you for your kindness. I confess that I have often mistaken your patience for permission and delayed repentance when I should have run to you. Forgive me for showing contempt for the very mercy that could change me. Teach me to turn quickly, honestly, and joyfully toward you. Let your grace not only comfort me but confront me. I want to be transformed, not just relieved. In Jesus’ name. Amen.