This article is a slightly edited version of the Conclusion to All are Called, Volume One of Kenneth's two-volume set: The Message of A Course in Miracles.

In the end, of course, none of Jesus' inspirational message to the world -- its beautiful language, brilliant logic, and blessed words of love -- means anything at all if the message is not lived and practiced. This is why Jesus makes the following important statement in the text, which can be taken as a caution to all of his students not to repeat the mistakes of the past two thousand years of seeking to teach his message without first seeking to learn it for themselves:

Teach not that I died in vain. Teach rather that I did not die by demonstrating that I live in you (T-11.VI.7:3-4; italics mine).

In other words, we teach Jesus' message of undoing the ego's thought system of death by living our lives based on his teachings on forgiveness. This undoes the ego's lessons of hate, attack, and murder, and thus is the efficacy of his message demonstrated -- not by our words, but by our life:

Teaching is done in many ways, above all by -example (T-5.IV.5:1).

This principle of teaching what we have first accepted for ourselves is nicely articulated in workbook Lesson 154, "I am among the ministers of God," where again Jesus can be seen encouraging his students not to make his teachings something that they do, but rather having the students be what they seek to become:

There is one major difference in the role of Heaven's messengers, which sets them off from those the world appoints. The messages that they deliver are intended first for them. And it is only as they can accept them for themselves that they become able to bring them further, and to give them everywhere that they were meant to be. Like earthly messengers, they did not write the messages they bear, but they become their first -receivers in the truest sense, receiving to prepare themselves to give (W-pI.154.6; italics mine).

This inability to truly practice A Course in -Miracles' kind principles of forgiveness that they study, and sometimes even teach, has perhaps been the most serious failing among its students. This book's sequel, Few Choose to Listen (Volume Two of The Message of A COURSE IN MIRACLES), discusses how students often conceal their thought system of specialness under the guise of spiritual counseling or friendship. Thus, they are quick to remind someone in pain or in mourning, for example, that the body and death are illusions and defenses against the truth, and so why not, they urge their family members or friends, just change your mind. The absence of simple kindness is unfortunately unmistakable to all except the Course student making the spiritual pronouncements. In this regard I am always reminded of the classic movie Lost Horizon, the 1938 adaptation of James Hilton's wonderful novel. As some readers may recall, at the beginning of the film Conway, the protagonist played by Ronald Coleman, is abducted and brought to Shangri-La, a paradisal community in the Himalayas, inhabitants of which do not grow old. He has been brought there to become its new leader, as the ancient Lama -- its founder and guiding inspiration  -- is preparing to die. In one of the film's most memorable moments, the Lama makes a speech to the reluctant Conway, in which he explains the origin and purpose of his utopian oasis. It is an inspiring scene, and its climax comes in the following summary statement, remarkable for its prophetic words that have, sadly to say, been more than realized in the decades that have passed since they were first spoken on the screen.

It came to me in a vision long, long ago. I saw all the nations strengthening, not in wisdom, but in the vulgar passions and the will to destroy. I saw the machine power multiplying until a single weaponed man might match a whole army. I foresaw a time when man, exulting in the technique of murder, would rage so hotly with a world that every book, every treasure, would be doomed to destruction. This vision was so vivid and so moving that I determined to gather together all things of beauty and of culture that I could, and preserve them here against the doom toward which the world is rushing.

Look at the world today. Is there anything more pitiful? What madness there is, what blindness, what unintelligent leadership, a scurrying mass of humanity, crashing headlong against each other, upheld by an orgy of greed and brutality. A time must come…when this orgy will spend itself, when brutality and the lust for power must perish by its own sword. …For when that day comes, the world must begin to look for a new life, and it is our hope that they may find it here, for here we shall be with their books, and their music, and a way of life based on one simple rule: Be kind. When that day comes, it is our hope that the brotherly love of Shangri-La will spread throughout the world. Yes…when the strong have devoured each other, the Christian ethic may at last be fulfilled and the meek shall inherit the earth.

What could be simpler, and yet what is more difficult? Since our thoughts were not kind about God in that original instant of separation, all that followed in the hologram of time and space could not help being unkind: Ideas leave not their source -- unkindness must lead to unkindness. The little willingness that Jesus repeatedly states is all that is asked of us by the Holy Spirit can best be understood as the willingness to be kind; or perhaps better, the willingness to be taught to be kind. In that ontological instant -- the beginning of the ego's nightmare dream -- when we placed our selfish desire for individuality above all else, kindness was lost to us and we forgot that "Kindness created [us] kind" (W-pI.67.2:4). And so we need to learn from Jesus, the one who symbolizes and exemplifies this kindness of Heaven to us, how to be kind to others and ourselves. In the inspiringly poetic passage that closes "The Song of Prayer" we read the following exhortation from God Himself:

So now return your holy voice to Me. The song of prayer is silent without you. The universe is waiting your release because it is its own. Be kind to it and to yourself, and then be kind to Me. I ask but this; that you be comforted and live no more in terror and in pain. Do not abandon Love. Remember this; whatever you may think about yourself, whatever you may think about the world, your Father needs you and will call to you until you come to Him in peace at last (S-3.IV.10; italics mine).

And so, emulating our Creator's kindness and Love and striving truly to be kind to one another here -- born of not seeing anyone's interest as separate from our own -- we reflect our mind's decision to be willing to learn how mistaken we were in believing that by withholding love we would be made stronger. Learning to accept Jesus' consistent kindness to us, we would wish only to have that same kindness be extended through us. As he tells us:

Hold out your hand, that you may have the gift of kind forgiveness which you offer one whose need for it is just the same as yours. And let the cruel concept of yourself be changed to one that brings the peace of God (T-31.VII.5:6-7).

This simple rule of the Lama of Shangri-La -- Be kind -- should also be the guiding principle of students of A Course in Miracles seeking to learn and practice Jesus' teachings of forgiveness. In this way our self-centered belief in the need for anger and judgment is undone, replaced by the loving kindness that Jesus has always held out to us. In the beautiful prose poem The Gifts of God, we read Jesus' comforting words as he urges us to take his kind gifts of mercy in exchange for our cruel gifts of hate:

Give me these worthless things [things of slander] the instant that you see them through my eyes and understand their cost. Then give away these bitter dreams as you perceive them now to be but that, and nothing more than that.

I take them from you gladly, laying them beside the gifts of God that He has placed upon the altar to His Son. And these I give to you to take the place of those you give to me in mercy on yourself. These are the gifts I ask, and only these. For as you lay them by you, reach to me, and I can come as savior then to you. The gifts of God are in my hands, to give to anyone who would exchange the world for Heaven. You need only call my name and ask me to accept the gift of pain from willing hands that would be laid in mine, with thorns laid down and nails thrown away as one by one the sorry gifts of earth are joyously relinquished. In my hands is everything you want and need and hoped to find among the shabby toys of earth. I take them all from you and they are gone. And shining in the place where once they stood there is a gateway to another world through which we enter in the Name of God (The Gifts of God, pp. 118-19).

With these thoughts in our hearts and prayers on our lips, we continue our journey with Jesus, offering kindness to the Son of God who is both our brother and our Self. A Course in Miracles provides the perfect structure for this journey: Jesus the comforting hand that steadies our steps along the way, and kindness the daily principle that helps us to remember Who walks beside us along the road that leads from specialness through forgiveness, and on to the peace of God.