Giftedness

February 1, 2020

Jeremiah said it. “The heart is deceitful above all things...who can know it?” He mentioned also that it is desperately wicked, but it’s the deceitful and unfathomable part that commands my attention tonight. It’s fashionable in Christian circles to focus on spiritual gifts as God’s key to a fulfilling life. “When we operate out of our giftedness instead of obligation or guilt, we discover the joy of serving Jesus that comes from knowing this is how we are wired by our Creator to live.” Words to this effect are common in the circles where spiritual gifts are bandied about as a cure-all for whatever ails us. “God certainly wants us happy,” seems to be much of the rationale behind such talk. We take surveys and answer questionnaires purporting to help us discover our gifts and live more authentic and fulfilling lives.

I have no doubt that people have different gifts and that if we play to our strengths, we tend to be more satisfied than if we spend our lives merely trying to shore up our weaknesses. I could spend a lifetime studying math, perhaps become somewhat adequate at it, but I would never attain the proficiency necessary to teach, be an accountant, or even keep track of how many kids are in the room at a given time. I’m good at some things; math is not one of them. That doesn’t mean I should ignore math altogether. It just means you should check your change if you buy something from me. You might get back more than you paid!

Ministering out of one’s giftedness is great, but it’s not the end-all. When doing so, it’s easy to confuse our own desires with God’s will; when I was a pastor, I was often a bit wary when people volunteered for things. It is usually difficult to distinguish between God’s desires and ours. The heart, after all, IS deceitful.

One of the ways I have learned to discern God’s voice is when an idea comes to me that is polar opposite of what I would choose to do. When it’s something I like to do, I have reason to be suspicious, but when it’s something God has to drag me into, I can be reasonably sure it’s his idea, not mine. My giftedness may play into it, but often when God leads (or in my case drags me kicking and screaming), he leads us in endeavors for which we cannot discern having any aptitude. After all, if I know I can do it, why do I need God? But if he takes me where I don’t want to go, where I don’t know what I’m doing, where I’m in over my head, and it succeeds, everyone will know it’s his doing and not mine. So I’m thankful that God speaks in ways I do not want to hear, telling me to go places I don’t want to go, and to do things I would rather not do. When I finally give up and say yes, he does amazing things. It’s called picking up a cross, and it’s at the heart of Christianity.