Michael and I have had a lot of “firsts” in the last two weeks, with a first night in our new home, first Thanksgiving hosted at our new place… the “firsts” are getting less exciting as we keep going, and I have started looking forward to the “lasts”; the last box unpacked will be a great moment! But this morning was our first trash day. Technically we had trash day last week, but we slept through it in a haze of unpacking, and so by the time this trash day arrived, the bins were rather full. I hate that, of course. I try to pick through, recycle, reuse and compost as much as I possibly can, to the point you might accuse me of being obsessive. But trash might be one of the big theological problems of our time. How can you throw things “away” when there is less and less “away” to put it in? How can we pretend our Goodwill donations are noble, when in fact much of the clothes they take in are left unsold, baled up, and sent to developing countries to undercut their fabric markets? How can we value the heavy, living power of compost, when industrial agriculture simply fertilizes with easy-spray chemicals?
In honor both of Thanksgiving weekend (the weekend where we throw out the most food per capita) and of the process of moving (a very trash-intensive process), I offer a prayer for trash day.
“Waste” by Stephen Orchard
Forgive us, Lord, for mentioning
our rubbish in our prayers.
We would rather enjoy the fruits of creation
and forget about the consequences.
Forgive us our polluted water,
our toxic soil and sulphurous air.
Forgive us all the dumped surpluses,
the slag heaps and the piles of scrap.
We thank you for the signs of your forgiveness;
for the plants and trees which colonise
even the most unsightly ground;
for the animals and birds who learn to live
in secret places in our urban sprawl
and turn our rubbish to good on our account.
We thank you for those who deal with our rubbish,
who keep our streets and houses healthy;
who guard us against poisons and radiation,
or who turn our waste into new riches.
We pray for those for whom the rubbish tip
is the only source of food and wealth,
picking through others’ leavings in the search
to keep their family alive.
Every Blessing,
Talitha