“So . . . why do you need to do this?”
“Look Grandpa, this is what our business advisor is telling us we’ll have to do if we want to take this thing to the next level.”
“The next level?”
“Yeah, continue to grow the business.”
“Grow the business? But . . . why?” Grandpa looked confused, and his eyes wandered out over the manicured lawn complete with neat diagonal lines. His eyes stopped briefly on the tarped pontoon boat behind the shed, then drifted back to where his grandson Samuel sat leaning forward over the steering wheel of his UTV.
“Why?” His grandson looked puzzled and just a bit exasperated.
The old man shifted his weight to his other foot and gently leaned his old pitchfork against his side of the fence. “But why,” he asked slowly, “do you need to expand the business? Are . . . are you lacking something?”
His grandson sighed and shook his head, his face wearing the expression most commonly seen on a parent’s face when a child asks, “Why is water wet?”
The young man shifted on the UTV seat and hooked the heels of his ultralight hunting boots over the edge of the floorboard. “We were talking to our business advisor the other day, and he said we are in a great position to really grow now. The last downturn knocked out a lot of our competitors and left us the only decent sized contractor in this area.
“He says we need to take advantage of this vacuum.” He smiled and tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully. “He said eventually the new demand will create more suppliers, but these new suppliers will be our new competitors. But . . .” he nodded again, “but if we expand now, we can head that off and meet the demand ourselves and keep startups out of our territory for up to a decade or more.”
“But . . . expand?” the old man said again, looking up at the new shop on the hill, its long line of overhead doors down on this Saturday morning, then to the parking lot where the six four-door trucks sat in a line, their aluminum work bodies gleaming in the morning sun.
“But why do you need to expand? Wouldn’t it be good for the area to have, you know, more options to choose from?”
The young man looked down at his cell phone, which pinged conveniently just then. He read a quick text before slowly replying. “I guess I’m thinking it might be better for the business if we didn’t have to fend off other competitors for each job we do . . .” He said it slowly, as if aware he was making an incomplete argument.
Grandfather frowned and ran a gnarled finger down the gray handle of his old pitchfork. “I’m not sure I see it. Neighbor Joe down there,” he nodded toward the farm down the road. “Well, he sold eggs and I sold eggs. He sold milk and I sold milk. I did maple syrup each spring and he did maple syrup each spring. We each had our own customers and kept them for years.” He nodded, tapping one calloused finger against the weathered handle. “Sometimes I’d have a downturn and send a few over to him and sometimes he’d have one and send one over to me. More often, we’d just get eggs or whatever from each other so we could make our own customers happy.” He smiled. “I remember one time he brought a bunch of stuff up to my place in a snowstorm so I could service our customers later that morning. I never forgot that.”
The young man cleared his throat and scuffed his heel on the diamond plate floorboard.
“That’s nice, Grandpa. I know you and Joe got along great . . . but now . . . now times have changed. Why, our business advisor says—”
“Who . . . who exactly is this business advisor you keep speaking of?” Grandpa interjected.
“He’s . . . uh . . . he’s a very successful advisor to major businesses. Even Fortune 500 companies, he says. Has it right in his paperwork. He’s written a couple of books about efficiency in the workplace and teamwork dynamics, that sort of thing. I’ve read them all.”
The old man winced, but because Samuel was looking down, he missed it.
“And he says you should . . . should expand again?”
“That’s right,” the young man nodded. “He said this is a golden opportunity to expand our business and our influence in the market and the area. He said it wouldn’t be good stewardship to let an opportunity like this pass when God has placed it in front of us. He said it’s part of our dominion mandate.”
“Our . . . the . . . what?” The old man looked confused.
“The dominion mandate. Remember how God said in Genesis that we are to have dominion over the earth? That’s our mandate. Our job,” he quickly added. “We have a job given to us by God to subdue the earth and have dominion over it.”
“Okay . . .” the old man said, stroking his beard. “And . . . he . . . this business advisor says that the way you should do that is to expand your business?”
“That’s right.” The younger man nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it and talking it over with my small business group. We think that maybe the reason God spared our business when the others folded was because He wanted our influence to spread in this area.”
“Did you ask for counsel from some of the church brothers?”
“Yeah, a few.”
“And . . . and they are comfortable with you expanding the business?”
“Well . . . one of them said something about laying up treasures on earth, but . . . but that is not what I am doing. I am just being a good steward of the talents God gave me.”
“Their concern doesn’t mean anything to you?”
“Sure, it does.” He looked up. “Of course. But I don’t think, well . . . our business advisor says that God has called some people to different callings. Some to sing. Some to preach. Some to run businesses to fund God’s kingdom. Naturally, those who haven’t been called to these things can’t understand the needs of . . . of those who have been.”
“I see.” The old man looked down for a long moment. Finally, he looked his grandson in the eye. “So, let’s say I decided my calling is to sing to the sick and aged.”
The younger man nodded, seeming uncertain of where this was going.
“And let’s say I decide that my calling, which naturally I understand better than anybody else because God gave it to me, requires I take along a set of drums and some electric guitars to properly do God’s work. You think everybody should just accept that?”
The grandson swallowed hard, twice, as it occurred to him that is just what his business advisor would say.
“Well . . . I . . . I . . . Grandpa, this is different.”
“How?”
“This is about stewardship. This is about funding God’s kingdom.”
He landed on the words “stewardship” and “kingdom” like a storm-tossed dove escaping into a dovecote at the end of the day.
“Stewardship,” the old man said thoughtfully. “Stewardship,” he repeated. “Stewardship and the kingdom. Is that what this is all about?”
“That’s right, Grandpa. Stewardship. Using our talents well. Our business advisor . . . ah . . . I mean, I’ve been told that we have a responsibility to grow the kingdom in whatever way we can. Every day, in every way . . . we should grow the kingdom. That’s how we use our talents.”
The old man stood looking down at the worn toes of his work boots for a long moment. When he looked up, his eyes were glistening as if wet.
“Would you mind coming down to the house . . . are you really busy?”
“Uh . . . no. I guess not. The boys are off on a youth hunt this morning and my wife is hosting a party down at the Heritage Center. Did . . . did you need something?”
“I was just wondering if . . . if you’d have time to come over this morning for a bit.”
“Uh . . . sure. I can do that. I’ll meet you at your house in 20 minutes.”
Later, Samuel sat at his grandpa’s kitchen table watching as he shuffled toward him, his old Bible in his hand. He seated himself with a sigh and began to reverently turn the pages, gently so as to not pull them from the failing binding.
Finally, he paused and smoothed out a page. “You spoke a while ago about using our talents. On stewardship. And on growing God’s kingdom. These . . . these things are all very dear to me. I wanted to . . . to look up this passage here and read a little from it and discuss it with you if I can.”
“Sure, go ahead.” The young man pulled his chair forward and, putting his elbows on the table, leaned in to listen.
“This is from Luke 19, verses 1-27.”
The young man sat listening intently to those familiar words . . . in that familiar voice, in the silence of the old house. His grandpa read the story of Zacchaeus, then went right into the parable of the talents in verse 12. Samuel realized for the first time that it came right after and was attached to the story of Zacchaeus, meaning it came right after Jesus proclaimed that “this day is salvation come to this house,” after Zacchaeus offered to give his stuff away. He listened carefully. There was no other sound but the old walnut clock ticking on the mantel.
Then Grandpa flipped to Matthew 25 and read that version as well. He paused and looked at Samuel through the sunbeams coming through the window. “What do you think those talents were?”
“My finance—I mean . . . they were money, weren’t they?”
“That’s right. So, then we should all grow our money as much as possible! Right?”
“Uh . . . I guess,” Samuel said. “Don’t you think so?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a parable. Parables are never about what they are about. They are physical explanations of spiritual truths. Do you think the parable of the sower is about sowing seed? The parable of the virgins about virginity and lamp oil?”
“Uh . . . no . . . So what is it about then if it’s not about money?”
“Think about it. Who is the king?”
“Well . . . Jesus, of course.”
“And did He give talents to everybody?”
“Yes, of cour—uh—I’m not sure.”
The old man flipped back to Luke 19 and gently pushed the Bible across to him.
Samuel glanced over it. “It says he called his ten servants and gave the talents to them.”
“Was anybody else there?”
“Well, there were these people of the land who didn’t want him to rule over them.”
“Did he give them talents?”
“It doesn’t say he did. No . . . it doesn’t seem like it.”
“Look up the Matthew 25 account. Does anybody but the servants get talents there?”
“Not that I can tell.”
“So, these things people call talents today, the ability to sing, to speak well, to run a business well, are they restricted to only the servants of God?”
“No.”
“Is money only given to the servants of God?”
“Of course not.”
“So, what is?”
“Salvation. But . . . how do you multiply that?”
“Salvation is part of it. But wouldn’t it be the kingdom? If you imagine that you are a soldier and the King said He is giving you His kingdom with the job to grow it, wouldn’t you try to take territory from the enemy?”
“So . . . so using my talent is furthering the kingdom of God? It’s not talking about money then?”
“If it is, then we have to reinterpret all the parables.” The old man looked earnestly at his grandson. “It is a parable, so it’s a physical representation of a spiritual truth.”
“Okay. So . . . what is the spiritual truth?”
“One more reference.” The old man pulled the Bible toward him and turned back to Matthew 6 and began to read. “for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness! No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.”
Samuel nodded. “So the mandate to dominate the earth doesn’t mean to claim as much territory for myself as possible? Instead, in the Christian era we are called to claim as much territory from the enemy as possible? And expanding my business to prevent others from getting some of the work in the area is not expanding God’s kingdom?”
“You get that idea, don’t you?”
The old man put his calloused fingertip on one verse. No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.
*****
The sun was setting. Samuel sat in the UTV at the top of the hill looking down over the spacious lawns and big house with its landscaped flowerbeds flowing down to the walks, his eyes sweeping on past to the fleet of spotless trucks, then past those to his grandfather’s simple old house and stable. The contrast was hard to ignore. Why do I think we need more? Who am I serving?
What if, he thought for the hundredth time that day, What if Grandpa is right? What if?
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Darryl Derstine lives in Holmes County Ohio with his wife and 7 children. If you have questions about stewardship and gifting, or to request a copy of this article, you can reach Darryl or one of the CAM Foundation team at bss@camoh.org or 330.893.4915. Read more articles on our website at camf.org.
