Rewards are relative, in the sense that what might serve as a reward for one person might not do at all for another.  To an illiterate, a set of encyclopedias would be a burden, not a reward.  What makes something a reward is that it gratifies something in the individual’s horizon of actual desire.  “My kingdom for a horse!” dramatizes this elemental human truth, as does “Hunger makes the best sauce,” and, in a different way, “Necessity is the mother of invention.”  Worldly rewards are, so to say, parasitic on worldly desire.

Heavenly rewards have the same relationship to heavenly desires, but it’s extremely important that we not confuse the vectors, and imagine heavenly rewards being parasitic on worldly desires.  This way of thinking leads to the picture of heaven as a banquet, or a village of narrow streets and peaceful villas, or a harem filled with virgins.

The truth is that before anything available in heaven could be experienced as a reward, our desires must first conform to heavenly desires.

In the Talents parable, Jesus teaches that the heavenly reward for doing well is the opportunity to do more.  In the Sermon on the Mount, he teaches that doing well in secret is something heaven especially values.  Combine those two teachings, and we learn that one heavenly reward is ever deepening anonymity in ever greater sacrifice.

Wouldn’t most of us, as presently constituted, find that about as rewarding as an illiterate receiving a set of encyclopedias?