Many of my friends who deeply understand and experience God’s grace have felt 
confused or upset by the idea of treasures in heaven. I mean, if God is perfect in mercy and does not repay us according to our wrongdoing (Psalm 103:10), then why do we some day have to account to God for what we did on earth? (2 Corinthians 5:10, Romans 14:10-12). People who like talking about theology call this place of accountability the Bema Seat, and sometimes I wonder if they are the only people who aren’t just a bit disturbed by it.
I think people have really great reasons to be confused or upset by this whole concept of treasures in heaven. First, the idea of differing levels of eternal reward seems to create groups of heaven’s have’s and have-not’s. Most Christians I know have come to faith because they were captivated by the reality that God could not love them any more or less based on what they’ve done, do, or will do, and forgives them for all of it. Once people really grasp this, I think they begin to realize that one of the greatest beauties of God’s grace is that it completely disrupts and upends the world’s systems of have’s and have-not’s in all their arrogance by saving all humble sinners equally (1 Corinthians 1:26-29).
But being one of heaven’s have-nots with just a couple measly rewards doesn’t sound so appealing to most people because it feels like the world’s soul-crushing system of conditional love all over again. That feeling can lead to the extremely dangerous belief that eternal life in God’s presence might not be anything to get excited about. And it begs the question why God would re-institute this horrible system in heaven when His constant business has been to constantly work against it on earth (1 Samuel 2:6-10, Matthew 23:11-12).
On top of this, heavenly rewards can feel like a glorification of material possessions in heaven or a divine manipulation into being a “good boy” so we can get our eternal toys. I think this demeans the beauty of obedience and righteousness here on earth by making them inherently self-serving, which I don’t think is what God had in mind (Philippians 2:3-4, 1 Corinthians 13:5).
When I was younger, for example, I always thought I would just try really hard to be really good all the time, and then I would get some kind of sweet house or car in heaven that I would show off to all the people who weren’t as holy as me on earth. I guess I wanted them to envy me for it since I felt like I wasn’t being properly recognized for all my spirituality in real life. Turns out I didn’t understand the selfless part of the selfless love idea very much. I think I mostly just wanted to feel like people respected me.
So what are treasures in heaven, actually? Have any of you struggled with this thought? I’d love to get a discussion going with ways that you’ve wrestled with this question or reality. In a day or two, I plan on posting Part II as my personal answer to the question that’s come from a series of revelations from a couple passages in the Bible. But for now, I just want to build that tension and get all of our difficulties and questions out in the open, because I think a lot of Christians can relate. So comment away.
Related posts:
Great topic, Mike. This issue is at the center of John Piper and NT Wright’s recent back-and-forth books on grace. I personally think Wright makes a stronger case based on the evidence. He argues that certain segments of Christianity have downplayed the accountability verses because they do not fit with the particular definition of grace they have committed to already (i.e. before reading the Bible).
Overall, I think the issue of treasures and grace are much clearer when we consider the nature of Christian hope laid out in the bible. Given that heaven is not our final resting place (i.e. the resurrection of the dead and the image of new heavens and new earth, not to mention the evidence showing that first-century Jews did not, for the most part, believe that heaven was their final destination), treasures make sense as part of the continuity between this place and the renewed earth promised by God in the end. Because of this continuity (seen in its earliest form in Jesus resurrection body, which interestingly still has the wounds), what happens here on earth really can, as Russell Crowe says, echo in eternity in some way. This calls our spiritual/physical boundaries into serious question and elevates the importance of all sorts of work on this earth.
This sort of argument is placed alongside another arguing that the sort of grace most often spoken of is really about attaining covenant membership without having really been faithful to the contract. It does not exclude the responsibilities of covenant membership from final judgement or (as mentioned above) felt consequences in the new age. Importantly, the Bible already tells us that responsible members of the covenant will not be able to carry out Jesus defeat of sin in the end and Jesus will come back to finish the job. Knowing that failure is basically impossible to avoid at some level should help to relieve the performance issue. However, this also puts the spirit in better focus: it is to enable us to live up to this responsibility to whatever extent is possible. While we have responsibilities that can have eternal effects if not met, ultimately God does not place the burden on the church to carry out His defeat of sin totally, and He offers the spirit as a necessary enabler. I’m being too definitive here, I know, but I wanted to throw in some thoughts. Hope this adds to the discussion:)
It’s too early in the morning for me, and so far today I’ve only had conversation with a 10-month-old, so I don’t really have anything to add. But I’m excited and very interested to hear more.
Thanks for explaining NT Wright’s argument, Lucius. It does seem like we are quick to write our own definition of grace based on warm fuzzies and worship songs, instead of on what the Bible actually says.
Heaven isn’t above us, in the clouds, right? My guess is that it’s right here among us, but hard for us to see, like it’s in another dimension. My treasures in heaven are the treasures that can’t be measured or held in the hand. (And that don’t rust or get stolen.)
I’m constantly searching to learn what those treasures are, but so far they look like compassion, trust, surrender, connection, and all the other beautiful things we reach for. Or, to be concise, love. Which is God.
At least that’s how it looks to me, right now, today. How’s it look to you?