I was chatting with some med students today 👨⚕️👩⚕️. They shared how seniors can act super nice in front of bosses… but talk down to juniors or nurses once the spotlight’s off. It hit me hard 😔. Because I know I can fall into that too—smiling upwards, but impatient downwards. I told them honestly, even as a Christian, my motives can get mixed up. Do I want to be “kind” just to look good? Or because Christ calls me to be salt & light 🌍✝️? That reminder reframed everything. Not about being remembered as nice. But pointing others to Him. 👉 Full reflection up on my blog.
Observing the Clinical Hierarchy
There was a conversation I had with some students that left a deep impression on me. These were year three medical students, just beginning their exposure to clinical teams in the hospital. What struck me was not simply their observations, but the maturity of their reflections on what they had seen.
In the hospital setting, the clinical team often consists of a house officer, a medical officer, a registrar in specialist training, and fully qualified specialists themselves. Even at their early stage of training, these students could already sense a troubling reality: the way people sometimes present two very different faces depending on who is watching.
When Kindness Becomes a Show
They noticed how some individuals behave with great politeness and charm in front of their seniors, leaving a good impression to secure residency or career advancement. Yet the very same individuals could turn sharp or dismissive when speaking with juniors, nurses, or allied health workers. Kindness, it seemed, was often a performance rather than a consistent character.
This hypocrisy saddened me, but what encouraged me was how one student responded. He said that witnessing this made him reflect deeply on the kind of doctor—and person—he wanted to be. He quoted the old adage, “Start with the end in mind.” He asked himself: “How do I want to be remembered when I die? Or even as a senior clinician one day, what will people say of me?”
His answer was clear. He didn’t want to be remembered as someone who played politics or treated people differently depending on their rank. Instead, he wanted to be remembered as someone who was consistently kind—kind to patients, kind to colleagues, kind even when no one of importance was watching. He said he would rather be accepted into residency because of his consistent character than by putting on a show.
I found that honesty refreshing and encouraging.
The Christian Distinction
As I continued reflecting with them, I shared openly that as a Christian, I often test my motivations by asking: Could a non-Christian say the same thing? If the values I hold or the goals I set for myself can be equally expressed by someone who doesn’t know Christ, then perhaps my thinking isn’t truly gospel-centered yet.
And here’s the challenge: a non-Christian can also say they want to be remembered as a kind person. That’s admirable, but it isn’t uniquely Christian. The real question we had to wrestle with was: Why do we want to be kind?
If our motivation is simply to be remembered well, or to improve our chances of getting into residency, then kindness itself becomes another form of self-promotion. The appearance of goodness hides an inward desire for advancement.
But for Christians, our motivation for kindness must run deeper. We are called to be salt and light in this world, to let our good works shine before others so that they might give glory not to us, but to our Father in heaven. Kindness becomes more than a virtue for personal gain—it becomes a testimony of Christ in us.
And that led us to this key question:
How should the Christian think about this?
— ✂️ CUT FOR SUBSTACK ✂️ —
Kindness With Eternal Purpose
When shaped by the gospel, kindness is no longer a strategy for self-advancement but an expression of Christ’s love. It is not about being remembered as a “nice person,” but about pointing others to the Savior who showed the greatest kindness of all—laying down His life for sinners.
This reframing gives kindness eternal weight. It means treating every patient, colleague, or junior with dignity, not because it earns us a better reputation, but because they are made in the image of God. It means showing patience and gentleness not to secure residency, but to display Christ’s character.
And here lies the difference: humanistic kindness ends with self. Gospel-shaped kindness points beyond self to Christ. Without this motivation, we may end up little different from the secular person who says, “I want to be remembered for being kind.” But with the gospel in view, we can say, “I want Christ to be remembered through my kindness.”
So whether in medicine or any other field, the deeper question is not only “How do I want to be remembered?” but “Whose name will be remembered through my life?”