Among the things which sit less comfortably with me about the Bible is the emphasis it places on rewards. You notice this in the Sermon on the Mount, where the reward you look for is from God the Father and not from those around you, when you pray, give alms, etc (Matt 6); it pops up in places like 1 Peter 5:4 as the motivation for being a good leader (and follower; 5:6) and so forth.
There are many reasons to live a life of obedience to God:
because he is good,
because Jesus died for us and calls us to such a life,
because he is God,
because Jesus modelled for us a life of obedience,
because it is good for those around us,
because God is transforming us by his Spirit to seek out this life... and so on.
'Reward' later for living this kind of life seems ignoble and small compared to these reasons. And the triumphalism which has sometimes accompanied Christians crowing about their heavenly reward as though it is their right (as history records), is further disincentive to focus on this aspect of Scripture.
But there has to be a legitimate Christian way of being motivated by heavenly reward and not sinking into the pious but possibly un-Biblical practice of asking, "Why would I need a reward? Just knowing God is reward enough." Surely we can be genuinely satisfied with God in a deep and real way, and look forward to a reward, at the same time if both are elements of how the Bible paints the redeemed life.
In the past, I have noticed from time to time our habit of passing over the reward passages as though they aren't there to legitimately motivate us, but never put serious thought into it. Which meant that as I read through Revelation I became increasingly uncomfortable. Rewards are promised throughout the book. But more than that, the Christians in heaven seem openly keen to get them. There is no demure: "I couldn't possibly...!" but an eager recognition that their reward is important to them.
One of the places this is seen is in the climatic scene in Revelation 11, where finally the 7th angel blows his trumpet unleashing the 3rd woe. Uncharacteristically, the 'woe' seems to be the handing over of the kingdom of the world to Christ, which hardly seems a tragedy. This fits with the disorientation that has been building in the letter, in which patterns are established and then broken. The worst offending (up to this point), is the pattern of the angels and their trumpets. Here, in chapter 11 the entire pattern is turned upside down and the reader (naturally) wonders where the 'woe' is. Has it happened yet?
And then the 24 elders, who seem to symbolise believers (not sure of that), explain it in their response to God:
"We give you thanks, O Lord God, the Almighty, who are and who were, because you have taken your great power and have begun to reign. And the nations were enraged, and your wrath came, and the time came for the dead to be judged, and the time to reward your bond-servants the prophets and the saints and those who fear your name, the small and the great, and to destroy those who destroy the earth." (11:17-18)
The woe is two-edged. Those who stand with God are rewarded; those who stand against God are judged. It is part of the Bible's ongoing theme of judgment and salvation being accomplished by God in a simultaneous action.
But the reward is not incidental to the 24 elders' understanding. They don't seem to hold with the view that insists that we glorify God as the goal of our lives, even if he damns us in the end. When I came across that idea, it seemed brave and noble, but the more I think about it, it really doesn't square with the Bible. Wanting the reward of salvation in all its fullness, which includes but is not limited to enjoying a relationship with God, seems to be part of what it means to be in relationship with God. There is no sense in which the rewards promised in Revelation can be separated from a relationship with God or with his salvation. (So even the slightly odd rewards in the letters at the beginning of the book, including my personal favourite: "I will give him a white stone and a new name written on the stone which no one knows but he who receives it" - all have to do with a relationship with Jesus and the salvation he offers).
In fact, it would not surprise me if wanting the reward God offers us is a result of his work in us, transforming us by his Spirit, so that far from dismissing his rewards, we strive harder to achieve them. They become things of worth and immensely valuable to us, not separate from our relationship with him, but precisely because of our relationship with him. Wanting our reward is the work of the Spirit as we come to understand through God's word the immense reward he holds out to us.
Wanting God's rewards then, not dismissing them as being unnecessary; trying to figure out what they are and what they mean and actively using them on ourselves as incentive to live a life which pleases God - all seem to be legitimate (and praiseworthy) responses in the NT to God's promises of reward. Of course, it would be ridiculous to put 'reward' at centre stage, eclipsing God's salvation as God's work from first to last, thoroughly embedded in grace and his kindness to us who have no 'right' to a reward. But this awareness should not so swing back our pendulums that we shy away from cultivating an eagerness to receive our reward from God. Just more of the freedom we have in Christ to be genuinely human!
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