Know Your Why

by Ken Costa

  In this story, the woman needed money, but our needs may be very different; they may not be financial. Take but one example of real emotional need: the pervading loneliness that continues to grow in our societies, not only among the older generation but also in the younger generation for whom social media has turned out to be anything but social in terms of creating real relationships and community. Even if we only have a spare hour a week, if we were to invest that time in visiting a lonely neighbor or a vulnerable friend, God can multiply it for enormous blessing, both to the recipient and the giver of that time.

  At times, we find ourselves crying out to God for our own needs—and at times we hear God’s call in the needs of others. Their needs may be for something practical like the jars, or their needs may be for encouragement. We can be the ones who draw out the callings of others when they are not confident enough to respond on their own or when they don’t think they have any gifts to give. Or we can point to the things they do have that could grow into fruitful activities but which they, like the woman in the story, have disregarded because they seem too small or apparently unexceptional.

  Perhaps God will use you to tell a friend what a great listener he is, or a neighbor how entrepreneurial she is, or a coworker what a great problem-solver he is. For many reasons, our own talents can be screened from us, and often a word from a friend or colleague can unlock a treasure chest of hidden gems. Of all the ministries I get involved in, I love nothing more than using a gift God has given me to notice the unseen giftings in others and to speak life into them.

  USING OUR TALENTS

  We can learn a good deal about using what we have been given from the parable of the talents—or the parable of the minas—as told by Jesus in Luke’s gospel.

  A man of noble birth went to a distant country to have himself appointed king and then to return. So he called ten of his servants and gave them ten minas. “Put this money to work,” he said, “until I come back.”

  But his subjects hated him and sent a delegation after him to say, “We don’t want this man to be our king.”

  He was made king, however, and returned home. Then he sent for the servants to whom he had given the money, in order to find out what they had gained with it.

  The first one came and said, “Sir, your mina has earned ten more.”

  “Well done, my good servant!” his master replied. “Because you have been trustworthy in a very small matter, take charge of ten cities.”

  The second came and said, “Sir, your mina has earned five more.”

  His master answered, “You take charge of five cities.”

  Then another servant came and said, “Sir, here is your mina; I have kept it laid away in a piece of cloth. I was afraid of you, because you are a hard man. You take out what you did not put in and reap what you did not sow.”

  His master replied, “I will judge you by your own words, you wicked servant! You knew, did you, that I am a hard man, taking out what I did not put in, and reaping what I did not sow? Why then didn’t you put my money on deposit, so that when I came back, I could have collected it with interest?”

  Then he said to those standing by, “Take his mina away from him and give it to the one who has ten minas.”

  “Sir,” they said, “he already has ten!”

  He replied, “I tell you that to everyone who has, more will be given, but as for the one who has nothing, even what they have will be taken away.” (Luke 19:12–26)

  This is a gritty parable. No punches are pulled. It addresses money but only as a powerful vehicle for the story. Specifically, it deals with the way in which people approach the gifts that have been given to them. It is revolutionary stuff. Jesus used this parable deliberately to challenge the prevailing Greek worldview at the time, which was that work should not be done by respectable people. Leisure, contemplation, and enjoyment were the touchstones of the fulfilled life. Jesus turned this idea on its head. He talked about work, investment, risk, performance-based returns, and differentiation based on ability (not everyone was given the same number of talents).

  Jesus wants us to consider how we use all that we have—our giftings, relationships, imaginations, time, energies, and money. God gives us all different gifts with which to fulfill our callings. This isn’t a human version of GoCompare.com, inviting us to compare ourselves to others. Comparing is futile, competing is frustrating, but receiving customized gifts and using them brings fulfillment.

  Bruce repeatedly tells me that he enjoys work, is good at his job, and is well rewarded. But he struggles with “comparititis.” He simply cannot break the need to run a checklist of how he is doing relative to others. And this is debilitating, for the very obvious reason that there is nothing he can do about the gifting of others. And it hits him hard, as he has to face the fact that he is who he is and cannot change the hand he has been dealt. I have urged him to see himself complete as he is, with a unique calling. God wonderfully makes each of us with a distinct life calling. It really is a question of what I will do with what I have rather than what I might be able to do if I were different.

  Having said that, it is right to ask ourselves whether we’re really firing on all cylinders or whether we’re just doing enough to get by. Perhaps we are doing enough for nobody to comment or to criticize, or just enough to feel satisfied about what we’re doing. But Jesus came to give us life, so we would “have it abundantly” (John 10:10 ESV).

  I remember a stinging rebuke given to me by a wise adviser. We were talking about what I was doing and the many activities I was involved in. When he challenged me about the quality of these various achievements, he said, “You have done well, and anyone around you will be telling you how well you have been doing, but what do you say about the intensity of play? Are you really focused and using what you have to the best advantage, or are you skimming by, growing wider but not deeper? In fact, you can congratulate yourself on satisfactory underperformance. You are satisfied, and almost everyone else would believe that you had performed to a very high standard. But in your heart of hearts, you know that you could do better with what you have.”

  Satisfactory underperformance. Ouch! It stings even now.

  GROWING IN OBEDIENCE

  In Acts 9, we read about Ananias, who was somewhat terrified to be called on by God to go and speak to Saul just after an encounter with the risen Lord had blinded him. Ananias was given a small, simple task—but one that had momentous consequences. He was the person called to speak the words of encouragement that initiated the ministry of the man who would soon be known as Paul.

  Ananias is known merely as a disciple. This could be you or me. And we see him respond as so often we do. We recognize God’s call and say yes (v. 10). But then the excuses grow with a string of “buts.” In his case, he rightly pointed out that Saul was a member of a violent religious police force not dissimilar to those operated by Daesh or the Taliban today. What a task to be asked to encourage him! Ananias said, “But” (as we often do)—and the Lord said, “Go!”

  Ananias was obedient. He went to Saul as a messenger, called out of him the anointing that God had on his life, and saw him filled with the Spirit.

  When Ananias entered the house, he laid hands on Saul. Saul was blind, so Ananias’s touch must have meant a great deal to him. We should not underestimate the huge message that a hug or a hand on a shoulder conveys. His gesture was accompanied by two of the most reconciling words in Scripture: “Brother Saul” (v. 17). The sense of warmth and familial closeness of “brother” conflicts with “Saul,” the name of an archenemy and persecutor of Christians. The violent religious extremist and the brother in Christ meet. In uniting these two words, “Brother Saul,” Ananias demonstrated a level of acceptance and encouragement from which he could speak into Saul’s life and affirm him as a chosen instrument of God. This was a small act of obedience by Ananias, but one with a massive result. A life was turned around, a calling confirmed, and the ministry of one of the greatest men in history was l
aunched.

  How true this is for you and for me as we look to encourage friends to step into their callings. Any of us can do this. Like Ananias, we simply need to be obedient to God’s prompting. I am so grateful to those who have taken the risks and stepped out in faith with a word of encouragement, particularly at times when my calling has seemed to play at a pitch so low as to be almost inaudible.

  God has endowed us with a particular suite of gifts: intellect, emotion, skill, and intuition. They are what we need to perform our callings in the world. We do not have to compete with what we see in others in order to be fulfilled at work and in our callings. All I need is to be me. I cannot fulfill someone else’s passion. Ananias was the supporting role to Saul’s lead, but he was essential to the story of Saul’s conversion, just as the widow’s community was essential in their provision of the jars, without which God could not have acted as he did. God needs us all. Lead roles, supporting roles, background roles—all are equally important to God and are used by him. We can take different roles in different situations. Even the donkey in the nativity story plays a critical role—without it, Mary and Joseph may never have made it to Bethlehem!

  How much do we need to hear this message today? A young pastor at a large church once told me that he was nothing more than a cog in a machine. He didn’t feel that he made any real contribution to the outcome of the ministry of the church. And it’s not just junior pastors who are insecure. So many people get frustrated at work because they think they are just going through the motions in the background, never impacting the big decisions.

  What my young pastor friend needed to remember—what we all need to remember—is that cogs play an essential role in mechanics. Without them the wheels never turn. Indeed, there’s a sense in which all of us are “just” cogs in a bigger machine, no matter our worldly status. We shouldn’t be afraid of playing a supporting role. Remember that divine perspective? The world might see the supporting cast as inferior, but God values the role of every participant.

  The great women and men who changed history could never have achieved what they did on their own. They may be the figure-heads, but the real change comes through the body of people who each lend his or her individual efforts. Martin Luther King Jr. marching to Selma alone would have been useless. Nelson Mandela would have been left in jail to rot if it hadn’t been for the support of countless others keeping his vision alive, lobbying and demonstrating outside Trafalgar Square and the major capitals of the world. The human genome could never have been mapped by a single scientist. We need to step back and see the big picture—our small offerings can collectively support huge changes.

  To see ourselves as cogs in a machine is not to demean ourselves but to acknowledge the need for collective action. Let us not forget that Lionel Messi—the greatest soccer player of his age—would not be able to dazzle his fans without the team spirit of his Barcelona colleagues. As we come to understand the collective might of small contributions, we can be released from the individualistic anxiety that comes with comparing ourselves to others.

  PLANT A SEED

  In Luke 13, Jesus described what the kingdom of God is like: “It is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his garden. It grew and became a tree, and the birds perched in its branches” (v. 19). The mustard seed is as small a seed as can be found. But it grows into a big tree. Jesus was making the point that small acts can have large results. Our callings are like this; they may start with a small thought, a suggestion from someone about what we can do with our lives. But the crucial image is that we “took and planted in [our] garden.”

  Often we spend time looking at the seed—that is, the calling—looking at the seed packet, wondering where exactly we should plant it, dreaming about how big it might grow. But we have to take it out of the packet and plant it. No seed will germinate and grow until it is planted. That sounds so obvious. But we should never be afraid of the obvious. Opportunity may be right under our noses, but we miss it.

  Jesus told us that the man plants the seed “in his garden.” We are called to take the small steps close to home. Sometimes we think we need to take giant steps in far-flung places, when in fact, as was the case in the parable, we are called to plant in our own backyards—the place we know best.

  My wife, Fi, is a talented musician. It is a gift that God has given her. She also has a heart for older people. Much time and energy is given to the young—and rightly so—but Fi loves to reach out to the older generation. Several years ago, she decided that she wanted to do something to minister to them. And what she did was incredibly simple. She invited a number of older people to our home, gave them tea, and played the piano for them. That’s all. Small and simple. The letters she received after her first “concert” were so moving that she determined to see that dream grow a little larger.

  Now, six times a year, if you go to our church in Onslow Square, London, you will hear a classical concert of the most amazing kind, attended by four or five hundred older people. For many of them—often lonely and sometimes lacking anything to look forward to—these concerts are a highlight. An outreach team makes sandwiches and serves a formal tea to the guests. Fi plays the piano, and some of the most talented musicians in London give their free time to perform. The standard is equal to that of any major concert hall in the country.

  Her small idea, which began by embracing the gift she had been given, was multiplied and expanded by our generous God. Let us not bury our gifts; our gifts don’t just serve our own needs for fulfillment; they have a wider purpose to influence, inspire, encourage, and bless those around us.

  None of us are perfect; all of us have blind spots or weaknesses. But these failings only hold us back if we think they prevent God from using us.

  When Jesus fed the five thousand (John 6:1–15), it was a small boy’s meal that was multiplied. Just imagine if the boy hadn’t been prepared to give to Jesus his small basket of bread and fish. Imagine if the boy had held back his offering, grasping it tightly so that no one could take from him what precious food he had, assuming that he was just a boy with nothing to offer. There would have been no miracle. Five thousand people would have gone hungry, and Jesus might not have demonstrated his extraordinary provision and generosity. What we have, however small, we must keep giving to the Lord for his miraculous purposes. The boy was obedient, and God honored him.

  Don’t let the people around you constrain your calling by their views of you. Only you know the gifts that God has given to you. Calling and gifting run together. The question is, will you be intentional about using them?

  Let us remember that the economy of the kingdom of God is based not on power but on potential. So many of the biblical heroes were reluctant to step into their callings because they didn’t believe they could ever amount to anything significant.

  When God called Moses to free the Israelites, Moses protested that he could not speak publicly. When Sarah was promised a son, she protested that she was too old; and when Jeremiah was told to prophesy, he protested that he was too young. When God sent Gideon to fight the Midianites, Gideon protested that his family was insignificant. When Samuel anointed Saul with oil, Saul protested that his tribe was too small, and when Samuel anointed David, Jesse protested that David was the youngest of eight sons. Even Mary, when she was promised that she would carry the Messiah, protested that she was a virgin (although we probably can’t begrudge her that one!).

  I wonder if you can recognize yourself in any of these biblical heroes. I certainly can. What encouragement!

  Using what we have been given (however small), encouraging others to use their gifts, and being obedient to that heavenly calling are vital. So many people are afraid to answer their callings because they feel too old or too young, not cool enough or smart enough or important enough to be of use to God. But with God, our seemingly insignificant contributions can make a significant impact. Our small actions can have big consequences.

  In 1998, Jo Rice was working at
Alpha (a ten-week course that introduces the basics of Christianity), putting together a mailing with some of the young people at Huntercombe Young Offenders Institution (YOI). She was sitting around a table with a selection of young inmates who had volunteered to help stuff envelopes. Tyrone was next to her, and he did not give her an easy few days. He questioned her incessantly about Christianity: “But why do bad things happen if God is meant to be so good?” “Is it true you can’t have sex before marriage?” “What is the whole deal with heaven anyway?” The questions were relentless. And to every answer she gave, he had a witty reply that left Jo searching for words. After several hours of this, Jo said, “Please stop! I’m exhausted. You are too clever for me—the way you can spin an argument is too good. Can’t we just talk about last night’s television?”

  Tyrone looked shocked. It was clear that no one had ever told him he was clever. It was like a revelation to him, and his demeanor changed instantly. His defenses came down, and when Jo got back to the office, she returned to find a letter and a photo from Tyrone asking her to correspond with him.

  On her way home, Jo reflected on this small encounter and wondered whether working with disadvantaged young people might not be as complicated as everyone seemed to think. Could it actually be really simple? A specific encouragement, a few words of affirmation—could this be the start of helping young people from difficult backgrounds turn their lives around? Inside, a seed was sown. She prayed that God would help her to find expression for this idea. A few months later she sat next to a friend, Tom Jackson, at a wedding. He talked passionately about an idea he had to see disadvantaged young people equipped with life skills and encouraged into employment. Bam! There it was. A chance for her idea to meet with Tom’s. Twelve years later, Spear is a thriving initiative that partners with local churches to run coaching programs for unemployed young people from disadvantaged backgrounds.