Journeeman.

When we the unique, we bury what God gave

INTRODUCTION — The Cost of Uniformity

We have a strange relationship with excellence. We admire it from a distance, celebrate it when it entertains us, and sometimes resent it when it appears too close to home. There are times when a community does not ask, “How can we help this gift flourish?” It asks, often without saying so, “Why can’t you simply be like everyone else?”

Genius is not merely human brilliance. It is the distinctive capacity, disposition, and opportunity entrusted to a person — a potential received before it is achieved. To demand uniformity and suppress what is unique is to bury what God has entrusted to us — and to trade our birthright for a moment of comfort. True humility means both the community and the gifted individual stand accountable before God: to welcome what He gives, to steward what He entrusts, and to make space for every gift to flourish for the common good.

Personal Anecdote & Observation

You know, I’ve noticed something over the years, something that feels both deeply human and profoundly sad. When someone stands out — whether they’re an artist, a musician, a scientist, or someone with an incredible practical skill — there’s often this strange mix of awe and something else… a flicker of jealousy, perhaps? A sense of weakness or uncertainty from the crowd that can lead to a desire to flatten those who shine too brightly. It’s as if the very competence that could lift us all up sometimes triggers a subconscious urge in others to pull it back down, to make everyone the same. This pressure toward uniformity… it comes at a cost.

Let me be clear: the problem is not community, shared values, or mutual accountability. We need all three. The problem arises when a legitimate community becomes an attempt to eliminate legitimate difference — when conformity becomes the standard, and the unique is treated as a threat.

And this leads us to some uncomfortable questions we must ask:

At what point do we think it is too high a cost — to flatten the individual so they fit into the norm, the mundane?

Is there a point where we go too far? And when is that point?

These are the questions that need to be presented if we are to have a flourishing society, and more importantly, a vibrant, flourishing church. At what point do we say, “Enough is enough” to allowing the crowd to flatten the potential of the individual?

To explore this, we need to understand what we are so tempted to suppress. We need to look at the very nature of what makes someone stand out, what makes them unique, and why that uniqueness is not a threat, but a gift.

II. WHAT IS GENIUS? — The Gift Received Before It Is Earned

Modern Understanding: Talent Earned by Effort

We often think of “genius” as something achieved through sheer hard work, relentless practice, and exceptional intellectual prowess. We admire the prodigy who masters an instrument through thousands of hours of dedication, or the scientist who unlocks a complex theory through years of rigorous study and experimentation. In this modern view, genius is largely a product of human effort, a peak attained through sheer force of will and intellect. It’s about what we do, what we achieve, and the results we can demonstrate.

The Deeper, Older Meaning — A Conceptual Bridge

But if we look beneath the surface, to the history of the word itself, we find an intriguing clue. The word “genius” comes to us from ancient ways of thinking about what a person carries from birth. In Latin, genius referred to a generative or tutelary spirit connected with an individual — something given, not merely made. The word belongs to a wider family of ideas concerning birth, origin, and the distinctive character with which a person begins.

This does not by itself prove a theological claim. But it offers a remarkable conceptual bridge: perhaps genius is better understood not simply as extraordinary achievement, but as something received — something entrusted, cultivated, and brought to fruition. That aligns with what we observe: natural ability, personality, creativity, intelligence, practical skill, imagination, vocation, inherited opportunity, cultural heritage, education, relationships, and circumstance — all are given to us before we ever make of them anything at all.

The Transformative Insight

So we arrive at this truth: what we call genius is not primarily what you earn. It is what you are given. It is what God entrusts. It is not just about exceptional skill; it is about a unique set of capacities, opportunities, and possibilities that were with you from the very beginning — to be nurtured, not invented. When we understand “genius” in this way, the word itself calls to mind synonyms like talent, gift, calling, spirit, birthright — all pointing to something entrusted, something inherent, something divinely bestowed. To suppress someone’s genius, then, is not merely to stifle potential; it is to treat lightly what God Himself has given them.

III. TWO ANCIENT WARNINGS — Hiding the Gift, Selling the Birthright

A. The Parable of the Talents — Matthew 25:14–30

Introduction to the Parable

It is interesting how we often approach the gospel stories, particularly the teachings of Jesus. When we encounter the Parable of the Talents, we can sometimes reduce its profound message to something purely mystical or hyper-spiritual. But if we look closely, we see a much broader, more practical application at play — one that deeply impacts how we understand stewardship, community, and our responsibility before God.

The Master, the Servants, and the Entrusted Gift

In this parable, a master entrusts his property — his “talents” — to his servants before embarking on a journey. To one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one, “to each according to his ability.” The issue is not equality of what was given; it is faithfulness with what was entrusted.

The Sin: Not Failure, But Fearful Inaction

When the master returns, the servants who had received five and two talents had engaged faithfully, taken risks, and brought back tangible returns. They had used what they were given to create value. But the servant who received only one talent, out of fear and a distorted view of his master, simply buried it. He did nothing. He chose inaction over engagement, fear over stewardship. He refused to participate.

The Prophetic Edge: Burying What God Entrusts

Jesus calls this servant “wicked and slothful.” The sin was not that he lost something. The sin was that he hid it. He buried what was entrusted. He refused to cultivate what had been given.

A principle drawn from the text: Are we, as individuals and as a church community, acting like this third servant? Are we so afraid of misusing what we have been given, or so attached to our own comfort, that we bury the capacities God has entrusted to us — the practical skills, the creative insights, the unique ways of being and doing that are meant to cultivate and bless the community around us?

To bury what God entrusts is not merely a personal failing; it is a profound refusal. It is to say to the Giver: “Your gift is too inconvenient, too risky, or too much trouble.” It is to hoard potential, to stifle creation, and to deny the community the very thing it needs. This is not a small matter.

And here is the wider application: although the talents in the parable are literally a substantial sum of money, the principle extends far beyond finances. What God entrusts to us — our abilities, opportunities, resources, responsibilities, and distinctive ways of contributing — cannot rightly be buried simply because we are afraid. These entrusted gifts are meant to point toward the Kingdom, reflecting its values and preparing the way for its full realisation.

So when we hold people back, or when we constrain ourselves because of fear and the desire to be normal, and we try to force others to comply with our insecurities — we are, in essence, playing the role of the one who hides and withholds the good, the true, and the beautiful from the Kingdom, from the community, and from society. In doing so, we become the very thing Jesus condemns.

B. The Birthright Sold — Genesis 25:29–34

The Story of Esau and Jacob

The Old Testament presents us with another stark warning, a story that shows us what happens when we value immediate comfort over enduring purpose. Esau, the elder twin, returns from the field exhausted and famished. He sees his brother Jacob preparing a pot of lentil stew and, in a moment of desperate hunger, cries out, “Let me eat some of that red stew, for I am about to die!”

The Trade: Immediate Gratification vs. Generative Destiny

Jacob seizes the opportunity. He offers Esau stew in exchange for his birthright. Esau’s response is chilling: “Behold, I am about to die; so of what use is the birthright to me?” He sold his birthright — which carried immense spiritual and family significance — for a single meal.

A principle drawn from the text: This story is not directly teaching us about creativity or genius. But as an analogy, it shows us a pattern we all too often repeat: trading something of enduring value for something that satisfies only for a moment.

The Uncomfortable Parallel: Selling Our Birthright Today

When we hold people back, or when we suppress what is distinctive in ourselves or others out of fear or the pressure to conform, we are exchanging something profound — our unique capacity to contribute, our God-given potential — for the temporary comfort of fitting in. We trade our generative destiny for immediate relief.

The Irreversible Cost

And like Esau’s choice, this carries a cost. Time and opportunity once lost are not easily recovered. We trade what God intends to generate through us for what satisfies for a moment, leaving us poorer in the long run, having squandered our inheritance that could have been cultivated.

C. Every Good Gift — James 1:16–18

The Essence of Divine Gifts

The threads of these warnings — the buried talent and the traded birthright — weave together with a foundational truth found in James 1:17: “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, with whom there is no change or shifting shadow.”

Theological Anchor: Received Before Produced

James gives us the bedrock beneath this entire reflection: goodness is received before it is produced. Every genuinely good thing — every capacity, every opportunity, every distinctive way of contributing — comes from God. We are not the authors of everything valuable in ourselves; we are recipients and stewards.

If creativity, insight, and distinctive ways of seeing are indeed good gifts from the Father of lights, then to suppress them is to turn away from the Giver Himself. It is to refuse what He has given.

Tying It All Together

This is why hiding the gift through fear, trading the birthright for comfort, and rejecting what God gives are all so serious. Each in its own way removes the gift before it can be a blessing. Whether it is what we steward, what we value, or what we receive from above — all are potentials that have been given and meant to bless. To suppress them is to deny the Giver and to forfeit the blessing.

IV. THE CROWD AND THE UNIQUE — Freedom and Stewardship

Theological Foundation and Philosophical Convergence

We have explored the theological imperative: that distinctive capacities, calling, and every good gift come from God, meant to be cultivated for the Kingdom and the community. But what if secular philosophy, observing human society, independently arrives at remarkably similar conclusions about the value of the unique individual and the dangers of conformity? When thoughtful observers outside the church see the same pattern, it reinforces how deeply human this issue is.

John Stuart Mill on Individuality and Society

John Stuart Mill, in his seminal work On Liberty, argued powerfully that true progress, innovation, and a vibrant society depend on the freedom of individuals to be themselves, to think differently, and to express those differences.

Mill was deeply concerned about the pressure society exerts to make everyone think and act alike. He believed this stifles not only individual flourishing but society itself. He wrote:

“The only freedom which deserves the name, is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs or impede their efforts to obtain it… Mankind are greater gainers by suffering each individual to show all the good which he can do, than by forcibly compelling all to conform.”

— On Liberty, Chapter 1

On the vital importance of freedom for what is exceptional:

“Persons of genius, it is true, are, and are always likely to be, a small minority; but in order to have them, it is necessary to preserve the soil in which they grow. Genius can only breathe freely in an atmosphere of freedom.”

— John Stuart Mill, On Liberty (Amazon Classics Edition), p. 56

And on the danger of suppressing difference:

“Whoever thinks that individuality of desires and impulses should not be encouraged to unfold itself, must maintain that society has no need of strong natures — is not the better for containing many persons who have much character — and that a high general average of energy is not desirable.”

— John Stuart Mill, On Liberty (Amazon Classics Edition), p. 52

Philosophical Convergence, Not Proof

Mill does not prove Christian theology. But his analysis provides an important point of convergence: the suppression of individuality is not merely personally damaging; it impoverishes the society that does the suppressing.

The Christian Correction: Freedom Needs Stewardship

Here is where faith takes the conversation further. Mill rightly tells us that genius needs freedom. But Christianity adds: freedom needs stewardship.

• Mill asks: How do we stop society crushing what is distinctive?  Answer: Freedom.
• Scripture asks: What does the individual do with what has been entrusted?  Answer: Stewardship.

Freedom without stewardship becomes self-expression without responsibility. Stewardship without freedom becomes conformity without flourishing. Christian humility requires both.

One Body, Many Members — A Biblical Balance

This means we do not choose between the individual and the community. The individual belongs to the community, and the community exists partly to enable each person to become what they were created to be. As Paul writes: “The body does not consist of one member but of many… If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing?” (1 Corinthians 12:14, 17). A healthy community is not one in which everyone becomes alike. It is one in which difference becomes mutually fruitful. 

This is not individualism, nor atomisation, but interdependence.

The Danger of Insecurity

To dismiss what is distinctive simply because it makes us uncomfortable, or because someone feels threatened, is to fall into the very trap Mill warned against — and worse, to reject what God has given. These are distractions that prevent us from embracing the fullness of God’s work in us and through us.

V. TWO KINDS OF HUMILITY — The Community’s and the Individual’s

The Fruit of the Spirit as the Foundation

Before we speak of gifts and difference, we must ground ourselves in the character Christ forms in us: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22–23). Humility is not self-hatred; it is seeing ourselves, our gifts, and our place in proper relation to God and one another.

Scripture calls us:

Philippians 2:3–4: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.”

1 Peter 5:5–6: “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”

Humility is the soil in which every gift flourishes. And it takes two forms:

The Humility of the Community

This is the community’s willingness to make space for what it did not expect. It says: We do not know everything. Therefore another person’s difference may be something we need, not something we need to correct. Instead of demanding conformity out of insecurity, the community embraces legitimate diversity, understanding that each member’s distinctiveness enriches the whole. It is the grace to allow others to be who God made them to be — even when it challenges the status quo.

This does not mean abandoning standards, accountability, or truth. It means recognising that discomfort is not, by itself, evidence that something is wrong. 

The Humility of the Gifted Individual

This is the individual’s recognition that what they carry is not self-made. It is entrusted — the legacy of previous generations, the opportunities given within society and family, and the grace of God — all on loan for a purpose. It means: I did not create what makes me capable. Therefore my gift is stewardship, not possession.

This humility prevents pride and ensures that what is distinctive serves others and honours God, rather than being used for self-exaltation. It is the grace to serve with what one has been given, without demanding to be served.

Mutual Accountability

This is where both stand before God together. The community must not suppress the gift; the gifted person must not weaponise the gift. Both are accountable. And this means one more essential safeguard:

Not Every Difference Is Genius

Not everything unusual is valuable. Not every unconventional choice is a God-given gift. Not every claim to “being myself” produces good fruit. And freedom does not mean freedom from accountability. Gift is not moral exemption. We test what is entrusted by what it produces: does it create what is good, beautiful, and true? Does it bless? Does it serve? Does it honour God? Not every difference is genius — but every genuine gift will show its nature in how it bears fruit.

VI. CONCLUSION — To Bury or To Bless

Every generation decides, consciously or otherwise, what it will do with the gifts placed among it. Some will be buried by fear. Some will be traded for comfort. Some will be diminished because they make others uncomfortable. And some will be cultivated.

The Christian calling is not to make everyone the same. Nor is it to celebrate individuality for its own sake. It is to recognise what God has entrusted, make room for it to flourish, and then ask what that gift can become when it is surrendered to the good of others.

When we walk this path of humility — community making space, individuals serving faithfully, all accountable to what is good — our stewarded gifts become the means by which we actively manifest:

• The Good — that which is right, beneficial, and aligned with God’s character.
• The Beautiful — that which reflects God’s order, harmony, and creativity.
• The True — that which is faithful, honest, and aligned with God’s reality.

These are not abstract ideals. They are the very essence of the Kingdom breaking into our world.

Ultimately, the choice is ours:

To Bury: To succumb to fear, insecurity, and the desire for uniformity — to hide what God has given, and to remain small so no one feels uncomfortable.

To Bless: To receive what God entrusts, to make space for one another, and to steward every gift faithfully — so that what is good, beautiful, and true may flourish for the glory of God and the common good.

The community must not bury what God has given. The gifted person must not worship what God has given. Both must learn to receive, to steward, and to bless.

Perhaps that is the deepest form of humility: not making ourselves smaller than God made us, nor making ourselves greater, but becoming faithful with what we have received. The question is not whether we have been given a gift. The question is what we will do with it.