The Barbecue Sermon Day 1: Be Kind – The Barbecue is a Battlefield

Kindness in a World of Burnt Hot Dogs and Bad Opinions

Welcome to The Barbecue Sermon—a 5-day Cult of Brighter Days survival series for navigating that most sacred and cursed of American rituals: the family gathering. Each day, we’ll walk you through one of the Five Tenets, applied directly to the fireworks, faux smiles, and emotional landmines of the 4th of July.

We begin with the highest calling: Be Kind.

It’s the week of the 4th of July, and we here at the Cult of Brighter Days want to give you a little help preparing for the celebration by a little refreshing dive into our tenants. Let’s be real: holiday gatherings often feel like walking barefoot across a field of emotional landmines—disguised as folding chairs and molded Jell-O salad. You arrive with a smile and a side dish, only to find yourself dodging political debates, invasive personal questions, and that one cousin who always wants to start a “friendly” argument about taxes.

In the Cult of Brighter Days, our first tenet is this: Be kind. It’s not always easy, and it definitely won’t win you any fireworks contests. But kindness—real, rooted, inconvenient kindness—is how we plant tiny flags of hope in a backyard war zone.

1. Kindness Means Seeing the Person, Not Just the Problem

Your cousin just came out, and the family is pretending like it didn’t happen. That silence? It’s heavy. You can break it with a simple, “I’m really proud of you.”

Kindness doesn’t mean making a speech or turning the moment into a Lifetime movie. It just means seeing someone when they might be feeling invisible.

2. Kindness Means Helping Without Humiliating

Someone drops a plate of ribs and mac n’ cheese. People laugh. Phones come out. You grab a napkin and say, “Now you’ve saved me from going back for seconds.”

You’ve rescued their dignity with a dash of humor and a dose of grace. That’s kindness. And it costs zero dollars.

3. Kindness Means Tuning Into the Margins

The neighbor’s kid is crying. Fireworks are too loud. Parents are embarrassed.

You walk over, squat to eye level, and say, “Wanna sit with me over here where it’s quieter?”

Kindness is attentive. It’s proactive. And it listens with more than ears.

4. Kindness Includes Yourself

It’s 97 degrees. Your uncle just said something that made your soul leak out your ears. You are melting, physically and emotionally.

Kindness might mean excusing yourself, rehydrating, and hiding in the bathroom for five minutes of glorious solitude. You don’t owe your emotional stamina to everyone.


Final Blessing:

Kindness is not weakness. It’s choosing to be a safe place in unsafe situations. It’s not about winning arguments—it’s about building small sanctuaries of peace, even if they’re just plastic chairs under a pop-up canopy.

The Cult of Brighter Days sees your effort. Your restraint. Your humanity. And we are grateful.

Come back tomorrow, when kindness fails—and all you’ve got left is being nice with a side of passive-aggressive potato salad.