How many of us want to spend all of eternity with Jesus in Heaven? How many of us want to die? It seems as if many of us are being pulled in two different directions, for the only way to get to Heaven is to die, yet most of us do not want to die -- at least not yet. In fact, country singer Kenny Chesney had a hit song entitled, “Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven,” which expressed this tension in the chorus, “Everybody wants to go to heaven, Have a mansion high above the clouds. Everybody wants to go to heaven. But nobody wants to go now.”
In today’s Second Reading, St. Paul writes to the Philippians about these two contradictory desires. St. Paul wrote this letter while he was in prison in Rome, about a year before he would be put to death for treason. In writing about both his desire to continue living and to go to Christ, St. Paul says, “I am caught between the two. I long to depart this life and be with Christ, for that is far better. Yet that I remain in the flesh is more necessary for your benefit.” St. Paul realized that the question is really about what gives life meaning. For him it is clear: “For to me life is Christ, and death is gain.”
This mysterious phrase shows that our relationship with Christ does something that no other religion or philosophy can: it unifies what we do here on earth and what we will do after death.
In the ancient pagan religions, death was the great destroyer. They believed in life after death, but it was a shadow life, meaningless and joyless. In the great eastern religions, existence in this world is pain and suffering, and a good death puts an end to the pain by putting an end to the individual's existence.
But in Christianity, Christ has broken down the barrier between life and death. The friendship with Christ that we live here on earth through prayer, the sacraments, and our efforts to build up his Kingdom, is the beginning of eternal life, and death is like the birth of a child - it is our emergence from the womb of time into the beautiful, limitless horizons of eternity.
Through friendship with Christ, we are no longer aimlessly waiting around in the town square, like the workers in the Gospel, distracting ourselves and passing the time as pleasantly as we can, hoping that someone will come along and give us a purpose. We have become workers in the vineyard of the Lord, and our work is earning an indescribable reward in heaven.
Today, we can all ask ourselves if we share St Paul's passion for Christ, if we share his eager desire to be with Christ forever in heaven. Every week at Mass, right after the Our Father, the priest prays on behalf of the people: “...protect us from all anxiety, as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior…” St Paul was waiting with joyful hope. Are we?
We should be. Jesus wants us to. He has revealed to us that our efforts to follow him are not in vain - we, like the workers in today's Gospel parable, will be rewarded for our fidelity.
One reason that the Church forbids us from doing unnecessary work on Sundays and encourages us to spend time not only in worship, but also serving our neighbor and relaxing with friends and family is precisely so that we can keep this "joyful hope" fresh.
During the week, we are so busy, so engaged in our earthly work, which is good and necessary, that sometimes our fire of joyful hope burns low. On Sundays, we need to add wood to that fire, reminding ourselves that all we do has a purpose, that our lives have a glorious, indescribably fulfilling destination.
In this Mass, as Jesus renews his promise to prepare a place for us in his Father's house, let's renew our faith in him. And when we receive him in Holy Communion, let's turn our hearts towards heaven, savoring now the joy we hope to experience later. Let's spend the rest of the day continuing to savor it, and helping those around us savor it, turning our Sundays into little heavens on earth. That will get us ready to live the rest of the week courageously, conducting ourselves, as St Paul described it, "in a way worthy of the gospel of Christ."