Some years ago I was preaching in a Gospel meeting. They were having a morning service. And after the service, a man about forty years old and his wife were standing there. He had a child in his arms that looked to be about four or five years old. And in the conversation, he said, “The doctors told us that our child will never reason, will never know right from wrong, will never be able to talk.” And then he asked, “Why did this happen to us?” He said, “There are people in this community that deny God; they’re unfaithful; they’re ungodly; they’re drunks; they’re alcoholics.” He said, “Their children are normal. Why’d this happen to me?”

I don’t know. There are so many things in this life we don’t know. You know, we sing that song, “Farther along, we’ll know all about it. Farther along we’ll understand why.” In heaven, we’ll have a perfect understanding of ALL the things we couldn’t understand down here. Up there, we’ll have a beautiful understanding of EVERYTHING that we couldn’t understand down here.

And it’s also a great reward because it is an eternal reward. You know, several years ago—some of the older people here can remember—there was a program on the radio called “Queen for a Day.” They would select some lady in some community that had done so many outstanding works. They would bring her to New York or to Los Angeles, and they would treat her for twenty-four hours as if she were a queen. But this reward in heaven is not just twenty-four hours. It’s for eternity. And eternity is forever and ever.

And you could think of an individual going to the equator, mounting a chariot of clouds drawn by horses of lightning. This individual could girdle the earth thousands of times and girdle all the universe thousands of times; he could drive those horses until the axels of his chariot were ground to dust, his horses fell through exhaustion and his bones were lost in some lonesome valley where not even an angel of God could ever find him…but he would not have found the end of eternity. Heaven is a place of eternity.

And then, it’s a great reward because it’s a beautiful reward. I’ve seen many beautiful things in my preaching life. I’ve traveled the countries. I’ve been across the snowy range of Wyoming that looked like a bride adorned for her husband. I’ve been through the Smoky Mountains where it looked like nature bowed and kissed the brow of beauty. I’ve been through Carlsbad Caverns and looked upon things that would defy the tongue of any orator. I’ve stood on top of old Pikes Peak and looked down the landscaping of the handiwork of God. But I’ve never seen anything comparable to the beauties of heaven.

I’ve been flying across the ocean and seen the sun seemingly go down into the ocean. I’ve seen a sun that seemed to come up out of the ocean. I’ve flown across the snowy Alps, but I’ve never seen anything comparable to the beauties of heaven.

All these things are included in the statement that Christ made when He said, “GREAT is your reward in heaven.” And it’s that great reward that Christ offers that gives us the most glorious hope that any man could ever have in this life. That glorious hope is this—that though our bodies may be dead for centuries, though the cactus of South America or the rose of North America may bloom over our graves, though the chilly winds of the north may sheath our tombstones in eternal ice, though the encroachment of the desert may bury our bodies in the dust of the earth, though the plowboy may dance and sing over our long-lost grave, though the wings of the wind may fan the dust of our bodies to all parts of the world, one day the mighty trump of God shall sound, and we shall hear, and we shall come forth and receive that reward that Christ spoke of when He said, “…great is your reward in heaven.”

And as we sing the invitation song tonight, I want to ask you: If you should die as you are now, do you believe that you would receive that great reward that Christ spoke of when He talked about those who remain faithful unto Him?

If you’re subject to the invitation in any way, we invite you to come while we stand and while we sing.