The Deadly Sin Of Wasting His Gifts
God has a special place in hell for those who know His will for them but choose rebellion anyway.
I've watched brilliant friends destroy themselves spiritually while their earthly gifts rot unused or get perverted for worldly purposes. The pattern is predictable and tragic.
My friend Lael could revolutionize science. He's built manufacturing infrastructure for entire cities (if not countries), invented technologies embedded in every device on the planet, developed breakthrough cooling systems that could transform manufacturing. Genuine genius-level intellect.
But when I asked him why God gave him five heart attacks, his answer revealed everything: "After each heart attack, God gave me another invention."
That's spiritual retardation. God nearly killed him to get Lael to pay attention to his pride, but ironically Lael interpreted it as intellectual downloads for more patents. He turned a divine intervention into fuel for pride. No wonder two of his kids won't speak to him anymore—they see what he really is beneath the science credentials.
Then there's my friend Hien, who could systematically deliver medical miracles through brilliant healthcare technology. Instead, he designs his life around trying to transcend sin's consequences through spiritual bypassing and intellectual manipulation. Both friends acknowledge Christ but live like they're exempt from His standards.
Here's what I've realized: there's no glory in idolizing your earthly gifts—intellect, scientific ability, artistic talent, charisma—if you misunderstand the divine nature of those gifts, and poorly apply them. Intelligence without spiritual poverty is worthless. By spiritual poverty, I don't mean financial struggle, like how we typically think of 'poverty'. I mean deep humility that creates space for God's love to pour into your heart.
Gifted people often struggle most with this. They mistake their abilities for their identity. They think exceptional talent creates exceptional rules. But God gives everyone the same meta-test: How will you steward these gifts?
The most dangerous people aren't the obviously wicked, like murderers or rapists. They're the brilliant ones who are smart enough to know what God wants but choose rebellion anyway. Peter Thiel, for example, understands what God wants from him—I guarantee his conscience told him long ago. But he's built a modern Tower of Babel and redefined conservatism in his own image, leading masses to false idols while calling it progress.
These people have the most to answer for because they likely know better. Especially those who acknowledge that Christ is the only way and His word is Truth. Yet they continue building cultures and systems that serve their ego instead of His kingdom.
Here's what the extraordinarily gifted but devastatingly prideful forget: God is powerful enough to invent infinite new forms of judgment when we think we're above His rules. New diseases, new disasters, new ways to humble the proud. The Tower of Babel wasn't just about a building—it's about any attempt to transcend divine authority through human achievement.
No amount of earthly wealth protects you when God decides your time is up. Steve Jobs had billions and access to the world's best medicine, but pancreatic cancer—one of the most painful ways to die—took him anyway. All that brilliance, all that innovation, all that control over Apple's empire, and he couldn't buy himself one extra day.
God gives everyone gifts in different forms—opportunities, wealth, talents, genetics—but the test is always the same: Will you use them for His will or yours? Most people fail spectacularly. The higher the gifts, the harder the fall when pride takes over.
Reflecting honestly, I used to subconsciously believe that exceptional ability excused character defects. Now I see it amplifies those defects. Brilliance without humility becomes spiritual blindness. Talent without submission becomes rebellion. Gifts hoarded for selfish purposes become curses.
The antidote is spiritual poverty—recognizing that every ability comes from Him, every opportunity is His grace, every breath is borrowed time. When you understand that, stewardship becomes worship instead of self-service.
Your gifts aren't yours. They're tools entrusted to you for His purposes. Use them accordingly, or watch them become instruments of your own judgment.
The most gifted often face the steepest consequences because God expects more from those He's given more. That's not cruelty—that's divine justice.