Understanding Faithful Stewardship

Angela Diaz
Jul 17, 2025
5 min read

"From those who do nothing even what little they have will be taken away." - Luke 19:26

Every morning when we wake up, we're not just beginning another day. We're reporting for duty.

This perspective transforms everything about how we understand our gifts, our opportunities, and our responsibilities. Yet many of us go through life treating our talents like personal possessions rather than sacred appointments.

The Garden We Never Watered

Consider what happens to a garden left untended. No one actively destroys it, yet it withers and dies through neglect alone. The same principle applies to our gifts and abilities. A musical talent left unused doesn't remain static—it atrophies. A mind not exercised grows dull. A heart not opened grows cold.

When Jesus spoke of talents being "taken away" from the unfaithful servant, he wasn't describing divine punishment so much as natural consequence. The servant who buried his gift didn't lose it because his master was cruel, but because unused talents have a peculiar quality: they decay.

This reality should both sobering and liberating. It means we're not neutral stewards of static resources, but active participants in a dynamic process. Our choices matter—not just for ourselves, but for the flourishing or withering of the gifts entrusted to us.

Faithful Stewardship, Not Owners

Perhaps the most radical shift in understanding comes from recognizing that we're managers, not owners, of our abilities. When we speak of "our" talents, we're already speaking imprecisely. Everything we have—our intelligence, creativity, opportunities, even our time—has been entrusted to us by Another.

This isn't a burden but a liberation. It means we don't have to create meaning from nothing or build significance from scratch. We've already been given an assignment. The question isn't whether we'll be stewards—we already are, simply by being alive. The question is whether we'll be faithful ones.

The Courage to Risk

The servant who buried his talent wasn't being cautious—he was being presumptuous. He assumed he knew better than his master what should be done with the master's property. He chose safety for himself over faithfulness to his calling.

True stewardship requires the courage to risk failure in service of faithfulness. It means asking not "How can I protect myself?" but "How can I best serve the purposes for which these gifts were given?"

This doesn't mean being reckless or unwise. But it does mean accepting that perfection isn't the standard—faithfulness is. The master in Jesus' parable didn't scold his servants for the specific ways they invested. He commended them for having tried.

Appointments, Not Accidents

Your particular combination of gifts, circumstances, and opportunities isn't random. It's your assignment. You've been appointed to a post that no one else can fill in quite the same way.

This means every decision about how you use your abilities has a moral dimension. Are you using your gifts to build your own kingdom, or to participate in something greater? Are you serving your own advancement, or contributing to the common good?

The musician who never plays, the teacher who never teaches, the friend who never befriends—they don't just waste opportunities. They rob the world of what was meant to flourish through them.

The Test of True Stewardship

Here's a practical test for faithful stewardship: Does your use of your gifts serve something larger than yourself? This doesn't mean you can't enjoy your talents or benefit from them. But it does mean asking whether your gifts are being channeled toward purposes that extend beyond your own comfort and advancement.

The faithful steward remembers always that he serves another's purposes, not merely his own. This transforms work from mere career-building into calling, relationships from networking into genuine service, and creativity from self-expression into contribution.

Proportional Faithfulness

One of the most encouraging aspects of Jesus' teaching is that accountability is proportional. The servant given five talents wasn't expected to produce the same results as the one given two, but both were expected to be faithful with what they received.

To whom little is given, little is required. But from that little, faithfulness is still expected. This means you don't have to be the most talented person in the room to be a faithful steward. You just have to be faithful with whatever you've been given.

The wonderful mystery is that faithfulness with little often leads to being entrusted with more—not as a reward for good behavior, but because faithfulness in small matters develops the character necessary for greater responsibilities.

The Daily Question

Instead of asking "What do I want to do with my life?" try asking "What does the Master want to do through my life today?" The difference between those two questions is the difference between a hireling and a steward.

Hireling: A hireling is someone who works purely for wages or personal gain, with no deeper commitment to the work itself or the purposes it serves. In biblical and classical literature, a hireling is often contrasted with a shepherd - the hireling flees when danger comes because the sheep aren't really his concern, while the true shepherd stays because he genuinely cares for the flock.

Stewardship: Stewardship is the careful and responsible management of something entrusted to one's care. In the context of our discussion, stewardship means recognizing that our talents, opportunities, and resources are entrusted to us by God to be used faithfully for purposes beyond our own immediate gratification.

This daily reframing transforms ordinary moments into opportunities for faithfulness. The conversation with a struggling colleague, the decision about how to spend your evening, the choice between comfort and growth—all become chances to exercise faithful stewardship.

Erring on the Side of Generosity

When in doubt, err on the side of generosity. It's better to risk too much in service of love than too little in service of fear. The Master, you'll find, is far more interested in the direction of your heart than the perfection of your performance.

This doesn't mean being foolish or ignoring wisdom. But it does mean that when you're uncertain whether to step forward or hold back, to give or withhold, to try or wait—choose the path that errs toward faithfulness rather than self-protection.

The Weight and Glory of Being Human

We're not merely animals following instinct, nor are we gods creating from nothing. We're stewards—beings entrusted with real responsibility, real choice, and therefore real accountability.

This is both the weight and the glory of being human. Our lives truly matter. Every talent, however small it may seem, is significant in the larger design. The faithfulness of each steward contributes to the whole enterprise.

A Partnership, Not a Solo Performance

Finally, remember that faithful stewardship isn't a solo performance. We're not abandoned to our own devices but invited into partnership with the One who entrusted us with these gifts in the first place. The Master doesn't expect us to succeed through our own strength alone but provides both the talents and the capacity to use them well.

Every morning, as you report for duty, you're not showing up alone. You're showing up as a partner in the grand work of bringing flourishing to the world through the faithful use of whatever has been placed in your hands.

The question that remains is simple: Will you bury your gift, or will you invest it? The choice, and its consequences, are yours.