“The real choice we all face is not between heaven and hell, but between heaven and this world.” Pastor Bruce Blakey’s words reflect a deep truth found in Scripture. James 4:4 put it bluntly: “Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God.” Romans 12:2 instructs us not to be “conformed to this world,” and 1 John 2:15 states, “Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.”

Jesus said during the Sermon on the Mount, “You cannot serve two masters” (Matthew 6:24). Repeatedly, Scripture talks of the perishable and the imperishable, the temporal and the eternal. As Christians, we simply cannot give our attention to both. We either live in this world with eternity in mind or we don’t. As Blakey put it, we must ask ourselves: “Do I want heaven later or this world now?”

Asking the question, however, is just the beginning. We should have an answer to it as well. Especially because our answer to that question says a lot about what we love, where our hope is placed, and, perhaps most strikingly, where we may be headed when we’re no longer walking the earth. Our answer is a matter of life or death; obedience or rebellion; truth or deceit. Our answer may very well determine whether we truly understand the difference between being in the world and being of the world.

To desire this world implies a desire for the temporary. Fading pleasures and perishable goods often lure people astray. Instant gratification and selfish ambition cause many to feel as though this world offers more than it really does. After all, life is a highway, right? “We only live once,” as they say, why not make the most of it by doing whatever we want whenever we want?

To choose this world now inevitably means whatever lies beyond the grave is a mere afterthought — if even a thought at all. The author of Ecclesiastes makes this point throughout the whole book: “All is vanity.” Ecclesiastes 8:15a states, “And I commend joy, for man has nothing better under the sun but to eat and drink and be joyful.” Within its proper context, this verse is not advocating for a hedonistic lifestyle — one that places pleasure as the highest good and aim in pleasure. Rather, the point it’s making reflects the primary theme of Ecclesiastes, namely, that nothing really matters apart from God.

All is vanity when we try to live separately from our Creator and rely on our own devices. Purpose is uprooted and lost in a flood of uncertainty. Hopes and dreams may live on, but to what end? Without objective truth in mind, love, joy, peace, and all biblical fruit carry completely different meanings. In fact, at the heart of some of the most secular ideas is this sense of “I can be my own god,” “no truth is final,” and “this life is ultimately about me.” Almost anyone can walk around believing they’re not voluntarily choosing hell. Who in their right mind would boast about such a choice? However, by choosing this world, one is, in effect, choosing that which we dare not consider.

It’s easy to laugh off the decisions we make in our day-to-day. “Oh, I didn’t know any better.” “I was just having a bad day.” “We all make mistakes, right?” Sure, we are allowed to make mistakes and have bad days. The natural conclusion of living as sinners in a fallen world is that we will make mistakes and have bad days. But for those who are called to righteousness, we cannot allow that to become our excuse for letting poor decisions and misguided priorities be the norm.

As Christians, we should not crave the world we currently reside in but the heavenly home we wait to dwell in. Paul wrote in Philippians 3:20 that “our citizenship is in heaven.” Peter described us as “sojourners and exiles” (1 Peter 2:11). The truth is, we don’t actually belong here. We were made to be with Christ, worshipping and having fellowship with Him and His people. As Christians, we understand we have a role in this world and should strive to walk in a manner worthy of our calling. We should be salt and light, using our gifts and abilities to serve, bless, and care for others. Christians should be trying to have influence, and we do so by tying everything back to the gospel.

As forgiven sinners, Christians should be defined by our gratitude for what Christ did on the cross for our sake. Believers should be bursting at the seams to share this gloriously Good News with those who are of the world! We do this because we ourselves are not of the world. We’re merely in it for a time. We’re just passing through. The church cannot choose this world now because our entire existence is rooted in what comes later.

When I was in high school, there was a season where it felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. In fact, I only really had the world in mind. I grew up in a Christian household and believed in Jesus, but when trials came at a young age, I forgot about all the blessed truths and promises found in God’s word — the truths and promises that help us through this earthly endeavor. Instead, I focused on how life felt empty, sorrow seemed to lead to hopelessness, and trials appeared purposeless. Vividly, I recall thinking: “If this is all there is to life, what’s the point in living?”

But I didn’t have to wonder for long. Had I waited for the world to provide answers, I’d still be waiting. But by God’s grace, He made it abundantly clear: He is the point. He shines light in the darkness. He gives purpose to pain. He turns grief into joy. He can do these things, because He, and only He, offers that which is greater than anything this world could ever dream of. He offers a life free from the chains of sin. Through faith in Christ, we can have heaven later! We can have Christ and all His riches! Sometimes heaven feels so far away. But beloved, it’s quite close. It feels far because we’re still living alongside sin. But the Christian can’t afford to forget just how worth the wait heaven is.

James 4:14 states, “[Y]ou do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.” If you choose this world now, then maybe a life compared to mist, vanishing after only a little while, is incredibly daunting. But with eyes fixed on future glory, with a heart awaiting heaven’s pearly gates, a mist feels like far too much. To have even a slight grasp on the glory and the beauty that is to be revealed to us should be enough to make us crave heaven, and to understand that heaven is, in fact, where we truly belong.

We should enjoy this life. There’s much to be thankful for. We’re allowed to have hopes and dreams. But everything we have here should be held with an open hand. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away (Job 1:21), but what we have in Christ is ours forever. At my church, we sing: “Mine are days here as a stranger, a pilgrim on a narrow way. One with Christ, I will encounter harm and hatred for His name. But mine is armor for this battle, strong enough to last the war. And He has said He will deliver safely to the golden shore. And mine are keys to Zion city, where beside the King I walk. For there my heart has found its treasure. Christ is mine forevermore. Come rejoice now, O my soul. For His love is my reward. Fear is gone and hope is sure. Christ is mine forevermore.”

So, as we enjoy what the Lord has generously given, I pray it’s easy to answer Blakey’s question: “For God’s glory, I am going to make the most of this world now. But heaven — well, that is where I belong.”