The ROI of Grace
What the Parable of the Talents taught me about privilege, faithfulness, and letting grace grow
I just got home from a trip to Tokyo and Seoul with a yakitori-filled belly and a suitcase full of new threads and gifts. Beyond the excessive eating, shopping, $20 cups of coffee (and the occasional cigarette), the trip was really about the people. A friend I met earlier this year invited me to speak at an entrepreneurship event hosted at his coffee shop in Kichijoji, Tokyo. I am not a successful entrepreneur but I was happy to share what I’ve learned working at startups and even starting my own. It also felt like the perfect excuse to reconnect with old friends in that part of the world and hopefully make a few new ones along the way.
At the event, I met folks across the entrepreneurship spectrum: professionals with stable jobs wanting to learn more about entrepreneurship, ambitious young bucks with side hustles, first time founders who’ve raised ¥ XXm, seasoned founders with a few exits. It was epic to see diversity in culture, age, and experience in one room to learn from and support one another.
As the only one from Silicon Valley (and also the only American) I received questions on the startup landscape, trends in AI usage and development, raising money from VC, challenges in getting a Visa, opportunities available in the US. Naturally, I turned the question around and asked about the landscape in Japan. As I chatted, a common theme emerged. Many early-stage founders expressed a desire to work or start a company in the US. While there are channels for entrepreneurship in Japan, they perceive it is easier in the America. There is no shortage of founder communities, incubators, VCs, talent-dense networks ready to adopt a shiny new tool.
Of course, America isn’t perfect - we have our share problems - but I can’t deny it’s reputation as “the land of opportunity”.
The data backs the narrative: the U.S. still offers strong potential for those seeking dynamic, high-reward environments and willing to take risks. But the global landscape is shifting and that’s a reflection for another time.
Hearing people long for opportunity in the U.S. made me reflect on how much of it I already have and how little of it I earned.
Gratitude… But to what end?
I had a few hours before my flight home to journal and process the trip. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for the opportunity to travel, to meet new people, to see God’s favor woven through it all. That quiet space helped me recognize how much of my life I’ve been given, not earned. Loving parents. A stable home in Silicon Valley. Education. Opportunities. All of it outside my control. I couldn’t help but wonder how differently life might have turned out had I been dealt another hand.
Gratitude led me to a sobering question: what does it mean to steward all this well? To use what I’ve been given—privilege, resources, opportunities—not for self-preservation, but for something beyond me. The answer, of course, depends on one’s worldview.
As I journaled, I remembered the Parable of the Talents which tells of a master who entrusts money to three servants before a journey; two invest and double their share, while the third buries his. The master rewards the faithful, but punishes the fearful servant by taking his remaining talent and giving it to the one who multiplied the most.
When I first read this years ago, I was unsettled by the master’s response. Was the message that I needed to make more money for God? Over time, I realized it’s not about financial gain, but about stewardship and faithfully investing whatever God entrusts to us: time, ability, opportunity, even privilege - and offering Him a return.
It was already clear I’ve been given much but what’s less clear is how to invest it and the return expected of me. What are the metrics that matter to God? Is it how many stomachs of the poor we feed? How much we give away? Or is it something deeper?
ROI - The “Return” that God Expects
I wrestled with this question in a conversation with a friend. He reminded me that in the parable, the master’s praise isn’t about how much the servants produced. Both faithful servants—one with five talents, the other with two—receive the exact same words:
“Well done, good and faithful servant.”
It suggests the master’s joy wasn’t rooted in the size of their return but in their faithfulness with what they were given. The third servant’s problem wasn’t poor performance. He did nothing. Out of fear or mistrust, he buried what was entrusted to him.
Maybe what God desires most isn’t measurable output, but movement - a posture of trust that leads to faithful action, even when we don’t fully understand the outcome or God’s fairness in the moment. Inaction, not failure, is the true loss. As a side note, I do wish the parable included a servant who lost half his investment just to see how the master would respond.
So what exactly is God asking us to “invest”? The parable doesn’t spell it out directly, so we have to look at the rest of Scripture.
In Genesis, God’s first command to all of humanity (Adam and Eve) is to “be fruitful and multiply.” Fruitfulness meant cultivating creation and exercising wisdom, moral and spiritual.
In Psalm 1, the blessed person “bears fruit in season” by meditating on God’s Word day and night—nurturing an inner life aligned with His ways.
In Galatians 5, the “fruit of the Spirit” isn’t productivity or impact, but love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
So perhaps the “return” God seeks is moral fruitfulness—the visible outworking of inward transformation. Faithful effort produces fruit not because of our skill, but because we participate in God’s redemptive work. Our role is to cultivate; His is to give growth.
Stewardship – Letting Grace Grow
As I consider what’s next post-sabbatical, I feel called to steward my privilege—not to multiply my comfort, but to multiply grace. The gifts of family, education, opportunity, and even geography aren’t random advantages but invitations to participate in God’s generosity.
God entrusts each of us with unique measures of grace and revelation. The return He expects isn’t outward success but inward faithfulness—lives that bear His likeness in the world. Stewardship, then, means letting what He’s planted in us mature into love, wisdom, and righteousness expressed in action.
In that sense, inaction isn’t neutral. It’s the refusal to let grace grow.
Having the grace and spiritual fortitude to discern God’s plans and purpose, in my experience, is truly a journey of faith, of being faithful, of faithfulness. It’s amazing how God has shown you your path to the true calling of your faith and the amazing ways He has shown you to arrive at the joy of knowing your purpose.