And whatever you do, in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him. - Colossians 3:17
My junior high band director, Mr. McNary, used to regularly remind us that it was “fun to be good at something”. He pushed us hard towards excellence and his students gained a reputation of consistently performing at a high level. And he was right - it was fun to be a good musician. I’m not sure that my adolescent self could grasp the weightiness of his encouragement back then. But I vividly remember those experiences of demonstrating competence in the skills I had gained through disciplined hard work. It was exhilarating, but it also produced a settledness in my soul that I didn’t really know how to explain.
More than encouraging our talent, potential or the pursuit of excitement or accolades, I think Mr. McNary was naming, albeit indirectly, a God-given need that we all have for competence. Something within us longs to know that we can do what’s asked of us and do it well. It’s interesting that God gave Adam a job to do in the garden, before everything went terribly awry in Genesis 3. It’s also worth noting that Jesus likely spent years learning the trade of carpentry. Part of the dignity in our humanity and the way that we reflect God’s image is to engage in and grow towards competence in meaningful work.
Competence seems like somewhat of a lost idea today, or perhaps it’s better said that we tend towards distorted extremes with it. On the one hand we’re told to showcase it for status, money, admiration, and approval. The culture bends so far in this direction that many of us struggle to believe that we’re good at anything without the attention, praise, “likes” from the masses or a salary to prove it. And while healthy affirmation is an important way that we encourage competence in one another, exaggerated dependence on it creates an empty craving that erodes confidence and hijacks the beauty of our God-given design. On the other hand, perfectionism, and the crushing competitive pressure to do “everything” well can make competence feel like an exhausting burden. It’s tempting to throw it out altogether and settle for mediocrity, that is until the consequences of a job done halfway or badly become alarmingly painful or personal. There’s no life or joy in either extreme.
It’s the kindness of God that pursuing competence is both personally fulfilling as well as a much-needed gift to others. It can be a pretty awe-inspiring experience to be on the receiving end of another’s generous competence. I follow a social media account for an art gallery who regularly features their enthusiastic 91-year-old matriarch. It’s beautiful to experience her sharing the hard-earned wisdom and expertise that she’s gained over decades as an artist. It’s struck me that this kind of competence is a rare treasure that can’t be bought or sped up. Competence costs and can only be cultivated over years of practice. Not a popular idea in a world that wants everything right now, as effortlessly as possible.
When I consider competence in the light of God’s gracious design, it fans the flame of that spark that Mr. McNary lit with his words all those years ago. It’s beautifully meaningful to know that God gives me opportunities to cultivate competence every day, not without some discomfort or challenge, but for my good and His glory. Not just in my work, but in my plain old everyday responsibilities and also my relationships. Not because He expects me to be good at everything, but because there’s incredible freedom in just playing my little part in a much bigger story. And not because I have anything to prove, but because I am deeply loved by God and He has made me for it.
