The Myth of Progress

(Excerpt from the homily “In and Of Itself”)

“The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself…” (Mk 4)

“As any good gardener knows, one can plant seeds carefully, water, and fertilize, but the key transformation happens mysteriously, underground, beyond our observation and control.” - William Placher

Disclaimer: In many ways, I am grateful for progress. It’s important that we all are. The following is not some kind of cynical luddite ideology. I’m grateful for advancements in transportation, medicine, communication, etc. Most of all, I’m grateful that many of these advancements are accessible to the poor, the marginalized, and those on the underside of power. What this is a critique of is the blind trust given to a narrative that assumes a great deal and has historically led to the oppression and dehumanization of many people. This is a critique of the colonialist impulse that sees itself superior by progressive means and in turn sees others as inferior and undeveloped in need of "progress." 

Jon Luke and I are going through Genesis, which often is not an age-appropriate book. In many ways, it’s more explicit than our other book we’re currently reading, Armada, by Ernest Cline. Yesterday, he overheard me listening to a lecture by Paul Kingsnorth on “The Myth of Progress.” The myth of progress is the false narrative that human beings started out as ignorant savages and are moving through a series of progressive steps in which, at every point, we get more clever, richer, healthier, and more intelligent. In this myth, technology is the vehicle of human flourishing (the good life).

When Jon Luke heard this narrative he said, “That’s not what Genesis says, at all!” He’s right, isn’t he. In Genesis we see a different picture of the human condition: that no matter how many advancements, how many acts of God’s grace, humanity can’t seem to get out of humanity’s way.

So frequently, as reflected in sacred text’s portrayal of human beings, it is our penchant for control, our insatiable yearning to affect our will and determine outcomes that leads to a type of ‘progress’ filled with violence, war, fear, fighting, theft, and slavery. Genesis seems to deconstruct the myth that human ingenuity and effort will lead to utopia.

In his lecture, Paul Kingsnorth makes this very point. That usually this vision of maturity ends in slavery; people believe the lie that indigenous cultures are savage and need to be colonized - we must take this vision of maturity and “bring it to the others.” Kingsnorth says, historically and in large, progress is not what we’ve seen but instead things tend to rise and fall in cycles.

The idea that technology will lead us into paradise is just not true, and it ignores the wisdom of indigenous cultures that have learned to live in balance with creation because they never saw themselves separate from it. Therefor, they never saw it as something to be mined, resourced, and extracted as a commodity, which is exactly what we’re doing while we ruin the planet. Sometimes we pave paradise and put up a parking lot. We strip away the support systems of creation, refusing to recognize our limits: our ecological limits, psychological and relational limits, etc. This is why, if we’re willing to look up from our screens, we see the myth of progress is unraveling at almost every front.

Perhaps we can use this as a metaphor for the church as well. Too often, we’ve bought into the myth of progress and novelty. If it’s new, it’s good. If it’s old it’s irrelevant. But more and more we’re seeing the deconstruction of this myth. At the Sacred Commons we’re an ancient-future church, which means we think it’s good to read and study and pray with ancient friends. It also means an intentional release of a particular ambition to always be on the latest and greatest. Instead we desire to be a people of Word and Table, open to the mystery of God that transforms us in enchanted, unseen ways, underground, beyond our observation and control. We’re wary of Pharaoh’s production economy, which always demands more bricks with less straw, trying to build a commodified kingdom of might and accumulated wealth and power. To see progress like this, on the surface, can appear to be a great wonder, but brick quotas always leave behind a wake of bodies.

Instead, we on a prayerful journey towards some kind of ancient and future embodiment. We are walking away from the myth of progress that claims ingenuity leads to utopia, that if we keep acquiring, controlling, and building, simply the passing of time will lead to only positive outcome. This hasn’t been our experience of the world.

There is a hope, however, not in technology and power, but in humility, love, and attention. That if we hold the past gently, we may see what we shouldn’t leave behind. We can give our attention to ancient wisdom while we simultaneously look for errors to prepare us for a better future. One way to do this is simply to seek some of the best questions coming out of the past. To do this we will need an “Epistemology of Humility” so that we may be open-handed to the truth. We need an empathetic, active memory, an appreciation liberated from novel romanticism, that allows us to engraft ourselves to roots that have not lost their healing properties.

Currently, in our culture there’s been a renewal. A return to ancient, indigenous rhythms and customs has brought a unique vitality to our time. As it turns out, some ancient practices and ways (especially in how we relate to nature and others) are beginning to be (re)incorporated back into modern life with transformative grace that helps us live into the future.

What if the past holds something for us? Rather than believing in the myth of progress, maybe we could just offer attention. Limited as our it is, our attention may offer a road forward by holding from the past what will directly be for our good moving into the future.

I don’t believe that, by default, technology will be the vehicle of human flourishing (the good life). I think you and I are that vehicle, if we’re open to grace, if we’re gentle with one another, open to kindness, willing to recognize complexities, sit with each other in the absurd, and always pay attention for the opportunity to love.

Perhaps Kingsnoth is correct, progress is not what we’ve seen. Instead things do tend to rise and fall in cycles. It’s okay.

Keep up the good work! Keep scattering seeds and good things, beyond our ability to control, will grow in and of themselves. If we breath deeply, and live into the center, grace will meet us there.