Christ Our Reward
“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.” John 14:1–3
It is no wonder that the disciples’ hearts were troubled. Jesus had taken them aside privately and foretold his coming betrayal, Peter’s pending denial, and the inevitable hour of his death and crucifixion. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. Or so they thought.
The solution to their troubled hearts was to take their eyes off themselves and put them on the Father and Son. These troubling things must happen. Christ must go away to prepare a place for his followers.
But the disciples do not need to be troubled by Christ’s leaving, because it is precisely by leaving that his full benefit will be made accessible. Unless Christ goes away—dies, is resurrected, ascends—there is no hope for the troubled heart. Christ has to go away from them to prepare a place for them with the Father.
Why does Jesus go away? What is the end goal of his death and resurrection? Look at what he says: “I will come again and take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.”
What is the joy of heaven? It is not that there will be streets of gold. It is not that we will get to travel the world. It is not that we will see lost loved ones again. It is not even that we are forgiven and saved and cleansed and redeemed—though we certainly are.
“I will take you to myself.” The hope of heaven is that we will be with Christ. That we will be with the Father in the fellowship of the Spirit. Enjoying what they have always enjoyed. Delighting in what they have always delighted in. We will drink from the fountain of goodness that never runs dry. We will enjoy God, forever. As it was always meant to be. There is no heaven without Christ.
Jesus’ preparation accomplishes this. It is not to bring us to a place, but to a person. Himself.
And here, there will be the same welcome for all of God’s children. No hoping you might get a glimpse of Christ if you are in the right place at the right time. He is your reward.
“I will take you to myself”—these are his words to every believer. He has made us his own. He has made you his own. Personally. Irrevocably.
This is why he promises the Spirit, who will make a home in them (v. 15, 23). If the Spirit is the downpayment of our inheritance, then what is our full inheritance but the Father, Son, and Spirit (Eph. 1:13)? We will be in the Father’s house. Fully known. Fully loved. Fully accepted.
Dear Christian, I wonder how you are. How you really are. Even the best of days seems to be marred by sin’s effect. Maybe for you, like me, even the sunniest of days leaves you longing, even groaning for something more? Life is hard. The creaking of joints, health issues, the death of loved ones, misunderstandings and broken relationships. Regrets and failures and disappointments and heaviness. Your heart is troubled.
Know that in that day, when Christ takes us to himself fully and finally, one moment in heaven will be worth a thousand lifetimes of trial. All of our regrets, failures, worries, will be assigned to oblivion when we enter into the joyful presence of our supremely kind Saviour and Friend, our Lord and Brother, our King and our God.
He is our heaven. He is our inheritance. He is our reward.
Christ is our reward. Our reward in heaven.
