In 1988 a Bible teacher announced in his booklet entitled Eighty-eight Reasons Why Christ Will Return in ’88 that the second coming of Christ would occur that September. The book received much publicity and attracted a large following. His followers became passionate in their belief that Christ would be returning within the year. A video was released that dramatized the detailed proof of the prediction, and people sent me copies of the booklet and video, hoping as president of Moody that I would help warn the church.

            I reviewed the booklet and did not believe the author accurately handled Scripture passages, particularly in light of the fact that Christ predicted that no man would know the time of His coming. Of course, September came and went without Christ’s return. Among Christians, a few people were greatly disappointed, some were indifferent, and others felt embarrassed by the prophecy.

            Still, my reaction—and that of many Christians—was an increased awareness that Christ could come back at any time. The implications sent my mind heavenward.

            On the actual September morning that the author had pinpointed for the return of Christ, I rose from bed and for a moment wondered, What if I am wrong and he is right? What if this is the day? At the breakfast table, my family engaged in a lively discussion about it.

            My daughter, Libby, walked down the driveway with me, continuing the discussion as I headed for my car to drive to my office. As I stepped into my car, Libby waved and said, “Hey, Dad, see ya in heaven.”

            My thoughts during that day were often of heaven.

            Think of the difference it would make if each day heaven were so real to us that we anticipated being there by the day’s end.

Eternally Different

            For most of us, heaven is something that we have to intentionally set our minds on. It’s worth it. The more we make heaven our preoccupation, the more our lives become radically transformed. People, possessions, career, time, pain, and pleasure all have meaning when viewed through the lens of heaven.

            When our minds are set on heaven, a radical change occurs in our thoughts and attitudes. Hoping in heaven in the biblical sense is indeed transforming. As C. S. Lewis notes,

Hope is one of the Theological virtues. This means that a continual looking forward to the eternal world is not (as some modern people think) a form of escapism or wishful thinking, but one of the things a Christian is meant to do. It does not mean that we are to leave the present world as it is. If you read history you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were just those who thought most of the next.[1]

 

            The reality of eternity was the central motivation of the disciples during the early days of the church. The resurrection of Christ proved to them that heaven was real. Since there was life after death, nothing on this side could distract them. For them the other side was worth living for—and dying for if necessary. Nothing this passing world offered could deter them from living for eternity. Heaven was the primary reference point of their existence.

Riveted to Heaven

            Making heaven our primary point of reference transforms us as well. What does it mean to make heaven our ultimate point of reference?

            Points of reference rivet our attention and alter our behavior. When a college student prepares for a major grade-point-threatening test, he views all of life through the grid of that impending exam. If he neglects that point of reference—if he fails to prepare—he feels guilt and fear. If he gives proper attention to that point of reference, he will begin to do things he’s never done before. He will say no to other less-important activities such as pick-up basketball and instead spend a long night at the library, sifting through his research notes and resources as though he were a scholar.

            We all have points of reference. They dictate who we are, what we dream about, where we go, and what we do when we get there. Among these may be marriage, a vacation, a promotion, a baby soon to be born, a new home, a new car, retirement, a memory, an aged parent, ongoing sickness, or long-term sorrow.

            Interestingly, life ultimately makes us somewhat cynical about our most anticipated points of reference, since experiencing them is never quite as satisfying as we thought. Receiving an “A” on this exam soon becomes a distant memory with another exam to follow. We grow accustomed to a new house, and it’s no longer new. A new car becomes used and out-of-date. Retirement becomes meaningless and depressing unless we discover new passions to spark our interest.

            We experience a gnawing sense of incompleteness because we were built for something to look forward to, for something beyond ourselves, without which we are not whole. It is heaven for which we were built and redeemed. The disappointment we feel in earth-side experiences is an indication of heaven in our hearts.

            Lewis again explains the issue well, writing:

Most people, if they had really learned to look into their own hearts, would know that they do want, and want acutely, something that cannot be had in this world. There are all sorts of things in this world that offer to give it to you, but they never quite keep their promise.[2]

 

            Heaven must become the target of our hearts. It’s what we are meant to aim for.

            An unalterable focus on heaven appears throughout Scripture. The first mention of heaven, though indirect, occurs in Genesis 3, when God promises Adam that one day his enemy would be defeated (verse 15.) The first patriarch of Israel, Abraham, “was looking for the city which has foundations, whose architect and builder is God” (Heb. 11:10). Other references are more direct. David looked forward to seeing his dead son again (2 Sam. 12:23), and the psalmist could cope with the prosperity of the wicked because he knew his God would ultimately receive him into paradise (Psalm 73).

            In the teachings of Christ, our gaze is lifted toward heaven. In the writings of Paul, Peter, James, and John, we read about a certain, future home. In Revelation, John rivets our attention as God judges Satan, sin, and sinners; destroys this present world and all that is defiled by sin; and in a glorious conclusion introduces the new heaven and the new earth and establishes the City of God as the centerpiece.

            Once we are convinced of this glorious consummation of sin-defiled time, space, and history and are introduced to eternity and its heaven, we are never the same again. When seen in its all-encompassing reality, heaven quickly becomes our all-consuming point of reference. It looms above everything else, trivializing that which is earthbound and lesser.

Radically Altered

            When we make heaven our reference point, we will know it because everything on this side becomes radically rearranged. At least seven aspects of our lives become wonderfully changed as a result of setting “your mind on things above” (Col. 3:1-2).

            1. Our posture toward God is radically changed. We change from being temporalists—those consumed by the gain of the moment—to being eternalists—those consumed by the reality of God in eternity.

            Remember the man who called to Christ from the crowd, “Tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me” (Luke12:13)? He had fixed his hope in life on the income from his inheritance, and his brother had not given him his share. Christ seized the moment and said, “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions” (verse 15).

            Jesus then told the story of a man of great wealth (verses 16-21). To celebrate his success the man threw a party and invited all his friends to come. He commanded that they should eat, drink, and be merry. But, as Christ noted, a surprise guest came to the party: God. He said to the supposedly shrewd and successful man, “You fool!” He was a fool not because of all the stuff that he had in his barns, but because he was a temporalist rather than an eternalist. He had never thought of his life beyond this fleeting world. “This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?” (verse 20).

            In this parable, Christ stretched this wealthy businessman’s definition of life to include the reality of eternity, to the moment when he would present his soul to a holy God without the credentials of his earth-side success. That’s a penetrating thought for all of us who have assumed that life derives value through an embossed title on a business card.

            2. A proper attitude toward our possessions. Christ indicates that fixing our hearts on heaven also will revise our perspective on our possessions.

            The old bumper sticker is right: “You can’t take it with you.” It has been well said, “You won’t find a funeral hearse pulling a U-Haul trailer.” Heaven-convinced Christians regard everything they have on earth as an investment in heaven. Our possessions become not something to be stockpiled here, as symbols of our significance, but rather commodities to be used for eternal gain.

            How do you view your time, talents, material goods, and finances? Are they commodities for your own consumption or capital that you can invest in eternal gain?

            Paul says our earth-side activities and resources that have been used for eternal gain will endure as though they were gold, silver, or precious stones. All other things will burn as if they were wood, hay, or straw (see 1 Cor. 3:11-15).

            When we do not invest our possessions in eternal gain, we become what Francis Schaeffer called “ash-heap Christians.” Such Christians don’t necessarily live evil lives, but their stay on earth simply has no effect on eternity. Schaeffer noted that there will be many standing before Christ at the bema seat “knee deep in ashes with hands empty” of anything solid and worthwhile to bring to the Savior on that day.[3]

            What do we have that can be used for gain in the world to come? Relationships? Possessions? Money? Time?

            3. A new perception of people. Just before His ascension into heaven, Christ asked His followers to turn their hearts toward the people who did not know Him. He told them to await the Holy Spirit, and then to “be my witnesses in Jerusalem . . . and to the ends of the earth” (see Acts 1:3-8 niv). Christ constantly elevated the value of people. And with good reason. People are the only things that will last for eternity.

            Everything else stops at the border.

            Our perception of people changes from their being commodities to being eternal creatures in need of the redemptive touch of God’s grace when we view them through hearts hooked on eternity. We want them to join our pilgrimage and find their way to our eternal home.

            If we believe that those around us are candidates for redemption and that we hold the key to their eternity in heaven, we will act and respond with unconditional compassion, generosity, and love. We will no longer see them as objects to be used, abused, manipulated, or consumed for our own pleasure.

            4. A new perspective on pain. During his own difficult times, Paul wrote, “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us” (Rom. 8:18 niv). If we think that our reward will be on this side of the grave, we will be easily discouraged and cease to persevere in doing what is right. But if we know that what we do for Him here counts for eternity, though the results maybe unseen, we continue to steadfastly carry on for Him regardless of our circumstances (see 1 Cor. 15:58). A clear view of the other side enables us to persevere on this side.

            Whether our present pain is chronic or occasional, physical or emotional, one truth can help us endure: It’s all temporary, soon to be replaced by a permanent, pain-free body. Placing our minds on heaven gives us the right perspective on pain.

            Throughout the history of the persevering church, courage in times of pain has been grounded in the reality of heaven. When threatened, heaven-focused Christians knew that dying was gain; when their treasures were taken they were not shaken because true treasures are in heaven; when threatened with torture they bore up under it, knowing that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed on the other side.

            5. Enhanced pleasures on earth. When we experience the pleasures that this world offers, they are soon mere memories. Yet, for us who are mindful of heaven, they remind us that the brief pleasures we experience here only foreshadow the fuller, more exhilarating eternal pleasures that await us.

            Our earth-side pleasures may include a good meal, a great party, an evening with friends, a good book by the fire, a walk through the country with spring in the air and flowers along the path, or a faithful dog. Clearly, the depth of these pleasures cannot compare to the ongoing pleasure that we will have from His right hand forever. We enjoy pleasures now as merely a foretaste of what is to come.

            6. A life committed to purity. As John notes, “Everyone who has this hope fixed on Him purifies himself, just as He is pure” (1 John 3:3). Recognizing that our souls are eternal, we realize that on earth we are grooming our real selves for heaven. With a mind focused on that eternal union—a final reunion with a God who is absolutely holy and a Savior who is wholly pure and could return at any moment—we feel an urgency to be ready with purity in our hearts.

            7. A transformed sense of identity. Paul describes us as citizens of heaven in Phil. 1:27–28 and 3:17–21. Citizens bear the telltale marks of the culture to which they belong. As Christians, we are to bear the identity of the culture of His kingdom which is to come.

            Scripture deals with this issue of belonging through several word pictures. No longer strangers and aliens toward God, we are now strangers, aliens, and exiles of this earth (see Eph. 2:19; Heb. 11:13; 1 Pet. 2:11). These are pilgrim words that indicate, as one scholar put it, “someone who lives for a short while in a foreign place.”[4] Strangers have no long-term ties; they are in transit. Their lives stand out by the distinct differences of the culture to which they belong.

            Aliens have a unique perspective of possessions. Although they may own things along the way, all these things become dispensable in light of their destination. They recognize that ownership is temporary, so they hold things loosely and share them with those in need (1 Tim. 6:18). To claim a pilgrim’s identity means that we always know we’re not home yet. For us the best is yet to come. Therefore, everything is expendable here, free to be used for the glory and gain of the King.

The Relevance of Eternity

            Living in the reality of heaven has tremendous relevance. When we envision heaven as our home, everything in life is radically rearranged. It affects our posture toward God, our possessions, people, pain, and pleasure. And heaven in our hearts purifies us and alters our sense of identity.

            If we say we believe in heaven, then let’s show our redemptive passport. Let’s look at the ledger of our checkbooks and the pages of our personal calendars. Do we see heaven in how we view and treat people? Is there peace in the midst of pain? Do earthly pleasures stimulate our hearts toward a thirst for pleasures forevermore? Let’s check the purity of our souls and our identity as pilgrims rather than permanent residents.

            When heaven is the habit of our hearts, we love more freely, worship more deeply, share more gladly, and suffer and sacrifice more readily. When the other side is real, everything on this side is radically, wonderfully rearranged.

 

Taken from Eternity: Reclaiming a Passion for What Endures, © 1995, 2006 by Joseph M. Stowell and used by permission of Discovery House Publishers, Grand Rapids, MI. All rights reserved.