There's a joke in Christian circles that some people only want Jesus for "fire insurance." These folks' position could be summarized as, "I just wanna not go to hell. Going to heaven is the main thing, right?"
And I do think it's the main thing. Miss heaven, and not only will nothing else matter, but nothing you accomplished in life will ever have mattered. Think about that one for a moment.* <Shudder>
1 Corinthians 3 explains how "fire insurance" works. If anyone builds on the foundation that is Jesus Christ (so these are Christians who are being discussed), but their works are found to be of "wood, hay, or stubble" (temporal, hasty or sloppy, scanty, of poor quality, self-serving), the works will burn up, but the saved person will escape, barely, through the fire (3:15). If the person has built with gold, silver, or precious stones (investing in people, getting to know God, seeking God's will and doing it, obeying His precepts), such works will survive the test--which, interestingly, is portrayed as being conducted by fire--and result in a reward (3:14). Again, I am sure arriving in heaven even with one's clothes burned off is infinitely better than not getting there. But is "fire insurance" the gospel that Jesus intended or that Paul preached? I don't think so.
We are invited to much more, and the early Jewish Christians realized this. For them, life was holistic in a way that modern Westerners don't quite grasp. We compartmentalize, not least in our insistence on the separation of church and state (which idea has grown way beyond the original intent of declining to establish a specific state-sanctioned denomination). Think about the picture of early Judaism that the Bible holds up to us: the temple, the sacrifices, the laws, the feasts, the psalms, the prayers, the prophets. The exodus. This was not their religion. It was their relationship with God and His with them. It was their way of life. It was their life.
In Jesus Christ, we are invited into the life of the Godhead. We are branches in the vine, fishers of men, a royal priesthood. If we hear His voice as He knocks on our door, we can dine with Him and He with us. We can take His yoke and find rest for our souls. We become part of His body, which is called "the church," but which is not an institution made of bricks and marble, pews and a pulpit, but is instead God's blood-bought family. Made in God's image, we are invited to share with Him and each other the love that flows between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, for eternity, because it pleased Him to create us to share it with Him. This is our life.
We modern Westerners like "fire insurance" because it allows us the "doing our own thing" we insist on (idolize, honestly) while still comforting us that we have eternity covered. I hope too many of us aren't wrong about that; after all, Jesus will say "I never knew you" to some of the people who call him "Lord, Lord." I hope any heavenly regrets are mild; I can't help but think they will be, when the face of Jesus and throne of God make us bow down in worship and forget all else. But will there be regrets about little treasure stored up, scant rewards, "what I coulda woulda shoulda done on earth"? Perhaps. Perhaps so.
I don't want just fire insurance. I want life. I have eternal life now (1 John 5:11), and I want to live it now, in as much union with the Godhead as I can. I'm nobody special, but I thank God that He's placed this desire in me for life with Him.
*I can think of one exception: If you're a lost soul who raised a saved child, that matters. But it won't comfort you in the end.
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