They say two things in this life are certain: death and taxes. We carefully give what belongs to Caesar. But do we give what belongs to Jesus?
I recently watched a sermon by John Piper in which he told the story of a couple who, in their retirement, bought a boat, played softball, and collected seashells. Then he pointed to the fact that one day they would die, and standing before God they would say, “Look at my shell collection, Lord. Look at my boat, Lord.” It shook me to the core.
If I died today, what would I present to the Lord? Tears fell down my face as I realized I have nothing to show for. I am saddened by this. And yet I am also rejoicing that my merciful Lord opened my eyes this year and made me reflect on it while I am still able to live for Christ. Not because somehow I would secure my salvation through my “good” works — salvation is by grace through faith in Jesus alone — but because I don’t want to show up at my Lord’s feet empty-handed.
That moment forced a harder question on me, and it is the same question for every one of us.
Imagine standing before Him after death. The books are open. Eternity stretches out. What do you present?
“Look at my car, Lord. Look at my house, Lord. Look at the size of my bank account, Lord. Look at my shell collection, Lord.”
The words hang in the air, hollow. Heaven is not a transaction or a reward for impressive earthly portfolios. Heaven is the presence of the Lord Himself — the place where His glory fills everything and the redeemed enter into the joy of their Master.
If we arrive clutching the trophies of this age, will we hear the words Jesus spoke in the parable of the talents: “Well done, good and faithful servant”? If you died today, would those words be yours?
Scripture is clear that entrance into that presence rests entirely on grace. No one is good but God alone. There are no “good people” who earn their way by moral effort, religious activity, or material success. Forgiven people enter because the Son of God lived the perfect life, died the perfect death in their place, and rose again. When God looks at those who have come to Jesus, He sees the perfection of Christ, not the inventory of their possessions. That is the only foundation that stands.
Yet the same Scriptures that declare this free gift also speak of a day when every believer will give an account. The judgment seat of Christ is not about whether the foundation holds — it does, for those in Him — but about what was built upon it. In the parable of the talents, servants are entrusted with resources according to their capacity. Those who put what they were given to work for the master’s purposes hear the commendation and receive expanded joy and responsibility. The one who merely preserves what was given is exposed as unfaithful. Faithfulness, not the size of the original allotment, is what matters.
This is why Jesus spent so much time on money and possessions. They are not evil in themselves. They are a relentless revealer of the heart. “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” The invitation is not to despise every good gift God gives in this life, but to refuse to treat them as the ultimate treasure. The purpose of money is not to maximize comfort and security on earth, but to be used in ways that store up treasure that lasts — generosity that meets needs, support that advances the gospel, stewardship that multiplies opportunities for others to know and love Christ.
A life spent primarily securing the American dream of comfort and self-directed ease can leave a person standing before the Creator with little more than a collection of temporary pleasures. Picture it: “Look, Lord. See my shells. Look at my boat.” The tragedy is not that any particular enjoyment is forbidden. The tragedy is that the one life given — finite, precious, accountable — was spent as if the temporary were ultimate. Everything material will be tested. What remains is what was done in faith for the glory of Christ and the good of others.
True faithfulness does not begin with frantic activity to earn favor. It begins with the recognition that Christ Himself is the supreme treasure. When the heart is satisfied in Him, the hands are free to hold earthly things loosely. Possessions can be enjoyed with gratitude and released without despair. Time, talent, and resources become instruments rather than idols. The servant who hears “well done” is not the one who arrived with the largest bank balance, but the one who treated what was entrusted as belonging to the Master and used it accordingly — whether that was much or little.
I don’t want to show up empty-handed. Not to earn what has already been freely given in Christ, but because the eyes of my heart have been opened while there is still time. The Master is still entrusting what is in my hands, and I want to be found faithful with it.
Heaven is the presence of the Lord. The way into that presence is through Jesus alone — His finished work received by faith. The way of life that prepares a person to hear “well done” is the life that has already begun to treat Him as the greatest treasure and everything else as secondary. That life is available now, not later.
If you stood before the Lord today, what would you have to show? Not the car, the house, the account, or the shell collection. Those will not speak for you. Would there be evidence of a heart that treasured Christ above all, a life of genuine faith that produced faithfulness, and resources directed toward what lasts?
The Master is still entrusting what is in your hands. The question is what you will do with it.
(You can hear the full illustration that shook me in Piper’s sermon “Boasting Only in the Cross” from Passion OneDay 2000 or on YouTube.
