You’re in heaven now, a new arrival. Safe and secure, eternally. Everything is real nice, nicer than you could have imagined. You’re happy, like really…. really…. really happy.
You peek over the edge to see the planet you just left. Looks pretty from up here. You can even see your old church, the building that slurped up so much of your sunday morning donations, empty, awaiting sunday morning. The newly-paved parking lot looks great from this bird’s-eye view. And there’s your pastor’s house, his two cars in the driveway. Certainly he deserves a standard of living equal to the rest of us, maybe more; such a heavy responsibility he shoulders.
And then you see the 10-40 Window you had heard about. And there’s South America and southern Africa and…. You see the masses of the unreached who never heard the gospel. Black and brown and yellow and white faces.
And then you see your church again. And the pastor’s house. And his two cars in the driveway. And then there’s your house, almost as nice as the pastor’s. From way up here it’s hard to see them as anything other than.... “treasures on earth”. Oh-oh!
Treasures on earth. Reminds me of a friend who had a vision of the judgment seat of Christ. Multitudes in white robes, bowing before King Jesus, couldn’t look into His eyes. “I told you not to. I told you not to. I told you not to. I told you not to lay up treasures on earth.”
And now you see millions of the unreached again. Strange. Some of those people down there have a flickering light above their heads. “Now what are those flickering lights supposed to indicate?” you ask a very friendly and very beautiful angel. “Those are the people who would have received Christ had you financed missionaries and evangelists,” answers the very friendly and very beautiful angel. Oh.
“But, angel,” you say to the very friendly and very beautiful angel, “there are thousands of flickering lights!” “Yes,” responds the friendly/beautiful angel sadly, “there are thousands of flickering lights.”
Enough peering down there. Time to inspect all those “treasures in heaven” you had laid up over the earth-years. “Please angel, show me the people who are here because of my donations into sunday’s collection plate, you know, my tithes and offerings.”“Be glad to, follow me,” replies the friendly/beautiful angel. “I already have them gathered together. They are eager to meet you.” “That’s it?! There are so few! All that money! Never missed a sunday! I was faithful! So-o-o faithful!” “Yes, you were faithful,” agreed the very somber but very beautiful angel, “but to whom?”
To whom?
So there you are, stuck in heaven, forever, can’t go back and redo, no second chance.
Or is there? You wake up from your dream, a bit of sweat on your forehead. I’m back! Jesus has given me another chance!
“Sorry Pastor Whoever,” you say to Pastor Whoever, “from now on, no more wasting my money. I’m going to invest in souls! Lots of souls! Thousands of souls! There’s a certain angel up there who is going to show me thousands who made it to heaven because I gave as the Holy Spirit directs.” “Thousands?” asks Pastor Whoever incredulously.