I was baptized Catholic as a baby, and I went to church every week, but I was not a fervent child by any stretch. In high school, that all changed, and I became convinced of Christianity. From that point on, the idea of eternity always stood out to me. We have this short life to determine our eternity. This life, through all its twists and turns, is the path to our eternity, where we hope to embrace God forever. But the immensity of eternity is hard to grasp, so we use analogies: this life is like a drop of water in the ocean of eternity, or a shadow compared to the whole person we will be in eternity. Of course, these are only images, and they ultimately fail to portray how immense and magnificent eternity really is.

There are multiple ways to look at this life in light of eternity. Two in particular have come to me powerfully at different moments of my life.

In my second year of college, I felt a call to leave computer engineering and become a Catholic priest. I did not have a sense of what type of priest I was being called to become, so I reached out to multiple communities and spoke to my local diocese. This led me to the Legionaries of Christ. One thing that drew me was their vision of living life in light of eternity: we live this life building up treasure for heaven.

I remember them using a particular analogy. Let’s say you just died and you are walking into the stadium as the new person in heaven. Who’s there in the stands and how hard are they cheering? Imagine Saint Francis of Assisi with all the millions influenced by his life cheering for him: the Franciscan priests, brothers, and sisters, the third order, the people encouraged by his life, those who were converted by others motivated by Saint Francis. Imagine Saint Patrick who is cheered on by so many Irish converts, so many missionaries inspired by his life, and those brought to faith by those missionaries. Or think of someone hidden away in a contemplative convent, a nun whose prayers helped so many people she never met. These three have huge throngs of people welcoming them to heaven, most of whom they never met in their earthly lives. Now imagine Joe. He grew up Christian, lived a relatively morally destitute life caring only for himself, but he followed and trusted Jesus just enough to sneak into heaven. How many are there cheering for him as he enters the stadium? Maybe his wife and a few people who knew him are there with a faint clap.

It’s unlikely we will impact as many lives as Francis of Assisi, but we should strive to help as many people as possible. This life is the training ground. Every act of obedience, of charity, zeal, or any other virtue, helps us to store up treasure in heaven, so that we can have a large crowd eagerly cheering us on when we go through the tunnel and enter the stadium of eternity.

This first vision of eternity is about using this life to build up our treasure for eternity. It follows what Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount: “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal” (Matt. 6:19–20). This vision moves us to be faithful to our vocation: as someone in an apostolic community, it moves me to evangelize people, to instruct people in the faith, to celebrate the sacraments for others, to do other ministries, and to be obedient.

The second vision of eternity came to me only recently, and I’m not sure if it’s been written about much. This past summer, I went up to Madonna House in Ontario for a week’s retreat. I did two days’ poustinia, shutting myself in a cabin for the whole time with a Bible, a prayer rope, basic food such as whole wheat bread, and little else. The point is you have nothing to do all day but pray. Halfway through the morning of the first day of poustinia, a thought or inspiration came to me: What would I do differently right now if I knew my salvation was assured? Well, I’d be here praying. Then a second thought or inspiration came: but if I continue to strive to follow Jesus on the path set out for me, my salvation is assured. This prayer led me to consider a second vision of eternity: if I am faithful to my specific call to follow him, I can live in the assurance of an eternity with Jesus. And this would not just apply to me as a priest who has taken vows of poverty, chastity and obedience: if my sister avoids sin and continually strives to fulfill her vocation as a schoolteacher, a loving wife, and an attentive mother, she too can live in that same assurance.

Saint Paul states we must “work out [our] own salvation in fear and trembling” (Phil. 2:12). That is true, but so often this fear can become worry, stress, and anxiety that takes away from our spiritual life. Elsewhere, Saint Paul makes salvation more certain: “By grace you have been saved,” (Eph. 2:5) and, “If you confess with your lips that Jesus Christ is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved” (Rom. 10:9). Yes, we need to keep striving to act in accord with our salvation, but if our will is set on God’s will, we can be confident of our salvation, even if in hindsight we see something we would have done differently or if things don’t work out as we hoped. This understanding frees us from the danger of stress and anxiety from the prior vision. This latter vision, then, helps us live in light of the assurance of eternal salvation.

Both visions of eternity speak to our daily actions. The first looks to the treasure we will build up through obedience, prayer, ministry, and service. It is more closely associated with the active or apostolic life: we do ministry to build up a great eternity. The second vision begins with the assurance of salvation and moves us to act in this certainty. It is more closely associated with the contemplative life, though it often involves the same actions as the first vision. The two modes of life are not divorced from each other. As Archbishop Luis Martínez points out in Secrets of the Interior Life: “When the active life is the overflowing of the contemplative life, it is called the apostolic life.”

Either vision is open to misinterpretation, especially when followed in isolation. If someone pursuing the first vision concludes that building up treasure in heaven means going out to do some great work of evangelization when their duty requires them to instead do something mundane like manage the community’s money, this first vision fails; if you are following your own will, not God’s, it will not be treasure in heaven. It can also fail when people get too caught up in chasing good things. So often, pursuits like number of converts or publications can be like the shiny ball in the racoon trap, things we keep grasping even when they hold us back. On the other hand, if people adopt the second vision and become so passive that they cease to live out their calling in simple ways like preparing food for those around them, they are no longer living in assurance of their salvation but simply being complacent.

Most of us can live best with aspects of both visions of eternity in our lives. I know that as a young priest the former vision motivated me to do the tough things: let’s offer to clean the bathroom for the dying person most in need of our prayers. It still motivates me in my vocation today. At the same time, living out of the assurance of my salvation has helped me as well. I know my own tendencies are toward anxiety and worry. Remembering that my salvation is assured helps me reduce the anxiety over every little thing I do. It allows me to step back and be a little more passive toward God’s will rather than actively trying to plan everything in accord with his intentions so I can maximize the treasure I build up in heaven.

I hope these two visions help each of you live your life in light of eternity. We Christians have this short life to prepare for a great eternity. We can focus on laying up treasure in heaven, acting in accord with our assured salvation. The important thing is living in preparation for an infinitely larger eternity.