Sermon - Embracing our messy 'March of Progress'

‘(R)evolution’ by street artist Herr Nilsson

Sermon preached at the Sung Eucharist at St John the Divine, Richmond on Sunday 21st August 2022 (Year C, 10th after Trinity, Proper 16) based on the text of Hebrews 12.18-end and Luke 13.10-17.

There’s a powerful – and much parodied - image that has become associated with human evolution.

It shows fifteen male figures in a line, drawn in profile. On the left of the image, the figures are bent double, their arms hanging down, almost dragging on the floor. 

Moving along the sequence from left to right, the figures become progressively more upright - and less hairy - illustrating what were then considered to be our evolutionary forebears, shown as if brought back to life - Jurassic Park style - and marching in a parade. 

The work of art is titled “The March of Progress” and was drawn by Rudolph Zallinger in 1965 for Time Life Magazine. Variants of the image graced the pages of school text books around the world. 

However, the ‘march of progress’ it depicts - known as orthogenesis, which means “straight line” evolution - is disputed by the majority of scientists today. Like us, they know that our progress in life - whether over the course of millennia or just a few moments, is rarely (if ever!) as simple as a straight line from A to B. 

Life is naturally full of twists and turns. 

But something in us seems to idolize the straight and is suspicious of the bent and crooked. So the image remains iconic, despite being recognised as a false portrayal of progress. 

Given this human passion for the perpendicular, perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised that, despite the seismic event of Jesus, at least some of his first followers couldn’t shake off their love of linear thinking; joining the dots between his death and resurrection and the coming Kingdom he proclaimed, with one - very short - straight line. 

The Letter to the Hebrews might be read as a call to persevere in faith as the persecuted community came to realise that the march of progress towards the heavenly kingdom wasn’t going to be as short - or as straightforward - as they thought. 

To provide reassurance, in the passage we’ve just heard, the author of the Letter reminds them of the ups and downs of their journey so far. 

We’re taken back to Mount Sinai, where God’s presence was heralded by thick dark clouds, a tempest of thunder and lightning, earthquakes and the deafening blast of a trumpet. But the commandments given to Moses by God up on the mountain were soon broken by his people down below, who turned their back on God’s word.

So God’s Word became flesh; not to condemn the world, but to save it. To be with us, alongside us, on our 'March of Progress.'

The Letter exhorts it’s readers to shun idols and remain faithful to Christ - the new covenant - whose presence and promises endure, no matter how shaky the ground beneath our feet or what twists and turns we encounter along the way. Christ alone leads us to the joy of the heavenly kingdom - Mount Zion - the City of the Living God - whose gates will stand open for all those who trust in Him. 

Someone who remains reluctant to do so, despite all that he sees taking place before his very eyes, is the leader of the synagogue we meet in our gospel reading. A man who seems to limit the love he has for his neighbours to six of the seven days of the week. Which by our human, linear measures of progress, at 88% doesn't sound at all bad - but it falls way short of living fully in accordance with God's Greatest Commandment. 

In the view of the synagogue leader, because work is forbidden on the sabbath, Jesus shouldn’t have healed the woman who has been bent double for eighteen years.

When Jesus points out the inconsistency of the man’s position; explaining that he appears happy for people to untie their animals and lead them to water on the sabbath - but not for Jesus to free those who are suffering the burden of chronic pain, the synagogue leader sticks firmly to his line; admonishing the crowd that had gathered around Jesus, telling them to come back tomorrow. “There’s nothing to see here!” After eighteen years of being in the shadows, he continues to ignore the woman, even though she is standing up straight - now at his eye-level and praising God, centre-stage.

It’s very easy for us to scoff at his inflexible, linear thinking; someone continuing to toe a line, even in the face of the overwhelming evidence of the damaging consequences; and as a better path looks him straight in the eye. 

But how many bizarre and illogical outcomes do we perpetuate by our own failure to see that time and time again, we are doing exactly the same. By being suspicious of change, by hiding behind “the system”, blinkering our vision from God's work in the world amongst those we normally choose to ignore; by failing to put our trust in God and placing our will above His.  

We don’t have to look far for the answer. The perpetuation of gender, racial and economic inequalities through the choices we make about our behaviour, language and how we use our resources. The environmental consequences of our destructive way of life. The pain we cause by limiting our love for others. 

Like the leader of the synagogue, it is all too easy for us to see ourselves as the final, fifteenth figure in the March for Progress. To idolize that - false - image of straight line evolution. 

Patting ourselves on the back for the fact that we have made it - we have “arrived” - even if we have done little or nothing once we are there. Seduced by top down solutions that offer the illusion of providing a step up for those below us but which perpetuate a persistent inequality of power. “I’m not saying she shouldn’t be healed, but we really can’t do anything about it today.”

The reason those words sound so familiar is because we’ve become drunk on the intoxicating power of straight-line solutions. Which means that however long we’ve been travelling as pilgrims through life, we need regular reminders that Jesus is the true image of our ‘March of Progress.’

The scriptures and the sacraments are these powerful waves, at the epicenter of which is an event that liberated us from the shackles of being linear in a non-linear world. 

That is our salvation. 

In calling the unnamed woman out from the shadows; by healing and by touching her; by declaring her to be a ‘daughter of Abraham’ Jesus moves the centre of gravity of the synagogue closer to his. 

And he does so in our lives. Whether we need a minor course correction or a complete u-turn, the Spirit is always at work; perhaps through the friends we meet along the way, who gently tug on our loose reigns, making them taught, just for a moment; guiding us back to the living water; making straight the way of the Lord. 

We need to see and embrace our freedom  to respond to these outliers if our wiggly line of best fit is to be drawn closer to the footsteps of Jesus; to experience the joy of life in all its fullness as our messy ‘March of Progress’ to His kingdom continues. 

Amen. 


Image : ‘(R)evolution’ by the Swedish Street Artist Herr Nilsson