The Next Step

Out here in the country just beyond the edge of the boundaries of what is called the city limits, we have an intimate relationship with trash and garbage.  In the years I lived as an urban dweller, we had trash days when big trucks would come and swallow up the trash we had collected in a big blue plastic container and placed on the edge of the street.  Curbside pickup was the dressed up name for this handling of our garbage.  But, in these days the garbage is bagged in the house, carried to the outdoor cans, loaded on a utility trailer and transported to the nearby recycling center where it is handled once more and thrown into open bins.

Spending so much time with the trash causes one to reflect on many things.  One of those things often thought about is the way food processing these days encourages trash collection.  When I was growing up my sister and I went with our parents to places like the butterbean patch, the long okra rows, and the longer rows where corn waited to be pulled and peas hung on the vines.  After a hot morning in the sun, the rest of the day was spent shelling and shucking and cooking and freezing and, finally, eating.  There were no containers to throw in the trash. 

I remember years ago holding up some peas as an object lesson in a children's sermon as I asked, "Where do we get this food?"  The answer came back, "In a can at the grocery store."  Unfortunately, the further along we go toward progress, the more we seem to get disconnected from the earth.  The herds who walk around us looking at their hand bear witness to how pervasive the disconnect from the present has become.  The core of who we are speaks of being a part of the creation which God has put into being.  We live in the creation, yet, apart from it.  And, even as that disconnect is made, the one which disconnects us from the Creator is only a step away.