Recently in World Literature, we read the story "The Mansion" by Henry Van Dyke. For those of you not familiar with this work, it is about a very wealthy man named John Weightman. He gives, and gives, and gives to many different charity organizations. This seems noble enough, yes? Until one reads further and Mr. Weightman proudly states that he has given and 'invested' his gifts into organizations that he is sure will more than pay him back, through either prestige or admiration or respect or something of that sort. One night, he has a dream. He dreams that he died and went to Heaven. When he gets there, he meets many other people who are also preparing to see their mansions. Among them is a widow with several children whom she raised in purity and love; a nurse who took care of cancer patients; a teacher whose whole life was dedicated to training his pupils to grow to be strong men; a doctor who could have had a brilliant career but gave it all up to work as a medical missionary in Africa; a gorgeous girl who gave up her desire to marry so she could care for her hurting father; a poet who worked merely to cheer people; and a lady who, although an invalid most of her life, had but one goal that she accomplished-- giving others a sense courage and love from being around her; and others who had had the one pure ambition of pleasing Christ.
Although Mr. Weightman believes that the good these people did is of some impact, he is sure that none of them can compare to the great things HE has done. So one by one, all the people are shown their beautiful mansions. Finally, it is just Mr. Weightman who has not yet seen his mansion. When he reaches his 'mansion' he is sure that there has been an error. It is not so much a mansion as... well, as a hut. Here is the conversation that ensues:
"'But how could such a house be prepared for me,' cried the man [John Weightman] with a resentful tremor in his voice-- 'for me, after my long and faithful service? Is this a suitabel mansion for one so well known and devoted? Why is it so pitifully small and mean? Why have you not built it large and fair, like the others?'
'That is all the material you sent us.'
'What!'
'We have used all the material that you sent us,' repeated the Keeper of the Gate.
'Now I know that you are mistaken,' cried the man, with growing earnestness, 'for all my life long I have been doing things that must have supplied you with material. Have you not heard that I have built a school-house; the wing of a hospital; two-- yes, three-- small churches, and the greater part of a large one, the spire of St. Petro--'
The Keeper of the Gate lifted his hand.
'Wait,' he said; 'we know all these things. They were not ill done. But they were all marked and used as foundation for the name and mansion of John Weightman in the world. Did you not plan them for that?'
'Yes,' answered the man, confused and taken aback, 'I confess that I thought often of them in that way. Perhaps my heart was set upon that too much. But there are other things-- my endowment for the college-- my steady and liberal contributions to all the established charities-- my support of every respectable--'
'Wait,' said the Keeper of the Gate again. 'Were not all these carefully recorded on earth where they would add to your credit? They were not foolishly done. Verily, you ahve had your reward for them. Would you be paid twice?'
'No,' cried the man, with deepening dismay, 'I dare not claim that. I acknowledge that I considered my own interest too much. But surely not altogether. You have said that these things were not foolishly done. They accomplished some good in the world. Does not that count for something?'
'Yes,' answered the Keeper of the Gate, 'it counts in the world--
where you counted it. But it does not belong to your here...'"
How powerfully this speaks! Although I know that God does not need our money to build a mansion in Heaven, I really don't believe that this is the point of the story. The them of this story (stated as a question) is :
What motivates you to do the things you do? What is the motivation for the actions you take? You could be the most giving, mature, kind, patient, and loving person in the world-- but if you were not doing these things for God's glory, aren't they useless? Isn't any work that we do apart from God's grace of no use? Think about it. Our patience, if used for our own glory and not for the glory of God who has changed our hearts, can quickly become something that makes us proud. Our giving could either be for God's glory, or for our own: so that we are praised, recognized, and shamelessly promoted.
Recently I've been challenged with this. Having character is not just doing what is right; it is doing what is right simply because I love the Lord with my whole heart. It is doing what is right not because anyone else will ever know about it, but because the Lord sees everything I do. It is doing right because I have my eyes fixed on Jesus and what He did on the cross.
I want to quote the final section of Mr. Weightman's dream before He awakens.
"'But how have I failed so wretchedly,' he asked, 'in all the purpose of my life? What could I have done better? What is it that counts here?'
'Only that which is truly given,' answered the bell-like voice. 'Only that good which is done for the love of doing it. Only those plans in whcih the welfare of others is the master thought. Only those labors in which the sacrifice is greater than the reward.
Only those gifts in which the giver forgets himself.'"
If I am not willing to forget myself, follow Jesus, and take up my cross; I am not worthy to be His disciple. Anything that I don't do with my mind on Jesus' cross, I am doing wrong.
