In the light of progressive Christianity, is there any hope of Heaven?

 Okay. Let's talk about the big one: Eternal Life. Specifically, through the lens of progressive Christianity. The title asks: "In the light of progressive Christian teaching, can we have any hope of eternal life?"

Now, let's be honest. For generations, "eternal life" often meant one thing: pearly gates, streets paved with gold (sounds terribly impractical, frankly – imagine the glare!), fluffy clouds, maybe reuniting with Great Aunt Mildred (which, depending on your Great Aunt Mildred, might be more of a threat than a promise), and possibly endless harp practice. It was a destination, a reward, a place you went after shuffling off this mortal coil, hopefully having ticked the right boxes.

Progressive Christianity, bless its questioning heart, tends to look at this traditional picture and... well, cough politely. We see the fingerprints of ancient cosmology, cultural assumptions, and maybe a touch of wishful thinking (or crowd control). We grapple with a God who seems infinitely more interested in justice, mercy, and love here and now than in managing celestial real estate.  And we are open to what both other religions and scientific observation might have to teach us.

So, does ditching the literalist, gated-community afterlife mean we ditch hope altogether? Do we just shrug, say "ashes to ashes," and focus solely on composting? I’d argue: Absolutely not! But our understanding of eternal life gets a radical makeover. It becomes less about duration and more about quality and connection.

Think about it. Jesus didn't spend much time sketching architectural plans for heaven. His central message wasn't "Be good so you can get into the sky-mansion later." It was "The Kingdom of God is at hand." It's here. It's now. It's in the act of feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, challenging oppression, forgiving debts, loving extravagantly – even loving your enemies (still working on that one, if I'm honest).

This "Kingdom" living, this immersion in God's way of love and justice – that has an eternal quality to it. When we participate in acts of selfless love, profound compassion, or courageous justice, we are tapping into something timeless, something divine, something that resonates with the very Ground of Being. That feels pretty eternal to me. It's experiencing the life of the ages, in the midst of time.

So, one progressive hope for eternal life is this: Living a life so infused with divine love and purpose that its significance echoes beyond our physical lifespan. We live on in the love we've shared, the justice we've fought for, the ripples of kindness we've set in motion. Our "eternal life" is woven into the fabric of the ongoing story of God's work in the world. Less harp solos, more positive legacy.

Now, what about the big event? The linchpin of traditional hope? The Resurrection. Ah, yes. The empty tomb. The cornerstone of faith for many.

Progressive Christians don't necessarily throw the Resurrection out, but we certainly look at it with different eyes. We notice, for instance, that the four Gospel accounts – supposedly eyewitness or close-to-eyewitness reports – are, shall we say, charmingly inconsistent on the details. Let's do a quick sketch analysis: 

·           Who went to the tomb? Was it Mary Magdalene alone (John)? Mary Magdalene and "the other Mary" (Matthew)? Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome (Mark)? Or "the women who had come with him from Galilee," including Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and "the others with them" (Luke)? Quite a crowd fluctuation there.

·           What did they see? One angel (Matthew, Mark – sitting inside the tomb in Mark, outside in Matthew)? Two men in dazzling apparel (Luke)? Or just... no Jesus, and then later Jesus himself appearing (John)? Did the stone get rolled away (Matthew), or was it already rolled away (Mark, Luke, John)?

·           What were the instructions? Go tell the disciples to meet him in Galilee (Matthew, Mark)? Or... remember what he told you in Galilee, and then the disciples didn't believe the women anyway (Luke)? Or... Mary just encounters Jesus, thinks he's the gardener, and is told not to cling to him (John)?

·           Where did Jesus first appear to the wider group? In Galilee on a mountain (Matthew)? Or behind locked doors in Jerusalem that very evening (Luke, John)?

Now, a fundamentalist might tie themselves in knots trying to harmonize these accounts into one coherent story – like a crime scene investigation – “C.S.I.: The Jerusalem episode”. A skeptic might just say, "See? It's all made up!"

But a progressive perspective might say: Hold on. What if these discrepancies aren't a sign of fabrication, but a sign of something else? What if they show multiple individuals and communities grappling with an experience so profound, so reality-shattering, that it defied simple, uniform description? What if the core message – that Jesus's presence, power, and message were experienced as overwhelmingly alive and vindicated by God after his brutal execution – is the point, not the precise choreography at the tomb?

The "Resurrection" for many progressives becomes less about a resuscitated corpse wandering around Galilee (though, you know, stranger things...) and more about the transformative experience of the disciples. These weren't people reporting a straightforward event; these were people whose lives were utterly turned upside down. From hiding in fear, they burst out with world-changing courage. They experienced Christ as present, empowering them, validating his message of love and the Kingdom. That experience was the Resurrection event for them, described in the symbolic language available to them.

So, can we hope for our own resurrection? Maybe not in the sense of bodily resuscitation. But hope for what?  

·           Hope for Transformation: Hope that, like the disciples, we can be transformed by the living spirit of Christ, moving from fear to courage, from apathy to action.

·           Hope for Continuation: Hope that the love and energy that constitute "us" are not simply extinguished, but are somehow gathered back into the Source of all Being, the God from whom we came. Maybe "eternal life" is less about individual consciousness persisting forever in a recognisable form, and more about rejoining the great Dance, the eternal energy of Love itself. It's a mystery, and perhaps that's okay.

·           Hope in the Enduring Presence: Hope that the Divine presence experienced by the disciples is still accessible to us now, guiding, comforting, and challenging us.

Progressive Christianity doesn't offer neat, tidy answers shrink-wrapped for easy consumption. It invites us into the questions, into the mystery. It shifts the focus from escaping this world to transforming it, inspired by Jesus. It reframes "eternal life" from an endless future duration to a quality of living steeped in divine love now, leaving a legacy that endures. And it sees the Resurrection less as a historical puzzle to be solved, and more as a powerful testament to the enduring, transformative experience of Christ's presence.

So, can we have hope? Yes. A profound hope. Not necessarily for pearly gates or escaping the cycle, but hope in the enduring power of Love, hope in the meaning we create, hope in our connection to the Divine Mystery that holds us all, before, during, and after our brief, beautiful time on this earth. It’s a hope grounded not in escaping life, but in living it fully, deeply, and justly, participating in the "eternal" quality of God's kingdom, here and now. And frankly, that sounds a lot more interesting than harp lessons.

(Images created with ImageFX from Google Labs)