Dumpster Theology FIJ

 

Dumpster Theology

 

I’m at my computer at the church, munching on cheddar “Rice Thins” (0 trans-fat), listening to a Christian band called Delirious sing “we believe God is bigger than the air I breathe, the world we’ll leave. God will save the day, and all will say, ‘My glorious!, my glorious!” Outside the window the young spruce tree is making it hard to glimpse Hawk Mountain, while the dull green garbage bin across the street is hard to miss.

 

A familiar Jasper sight, the dumpster’s most eye-catching element is the Park’s bear sign. You know the one: black cub, green veg background, encircled red. Chad - a local, - told me of the many bears of his childhood before Jasper traded its individual aluminum trash cans for its bear-proof collectives. “Keep Jasper’s bears wild.” “A fed bear is a dead bear.” “Get your own garbage!” You’ve seen the slogans. Safer streets, safer bears, safer trash.

 

I picked up a climbing rope off this dumpster not too long ago. (How safe is that?) Sometimes you see some pretty interesting stuff: a wooden crib, a bike, old skis, chairs, CDs. I once threw away something I later realized I needed. To recover it I threw away my dignity, leaning so far through the opening that just my nether parts were exposed, as if I was in the process of being swallowed by a metal alien with as much a taste for humans as for bears. I can’t remember what it was that was so worth saving.

 

There are days when I walk out with my plastic bag of kitchen garbage and half expect to find the soul of Jasper lying face down in the Glad bags, grass clippings, and broken toys inside that dingy bin. Don’t get me wrong, I think this is a fine town with many very decent people, with an appreciation for Nature and the spiritual. It’s just that I occasionally hear about some wildly exciting churches, all new and vibrant, glossy with faith, in places like London, England, southern California, Seoul Korea, Uganda and Nigeria, Guatemala and Columbia. Why, even last weekend I attended a sold-out Christian men’s conference at an enormous new church in Calgary. So, I suppose that what I meant, even if I feel implicated in admitting it, is that sometimes our local expression of Christian faith is that cracked, crumpled and discarded thing, tossed away where no bear could touch it.

 

No one will tell you that this is a “Church-y town”, which may be a good thing, because religion is as effective an antidote to real faith as, well, settling for Rice Thins as a meal instead of the cooking of my wife. One can be full yet not fulfilled. But here’s the deal - putting a twist tie on “organized religion” is no reason to clean house entirely, so that there’s no Creator-awe, or Redeemer-love left. A Spring-cleaning that leaves you half-naked in an empty apartment is a little too antiseptic! And then re-decorating with New Age, Da Vinci, Wicca or Buddhist knick-knacks, well, do you see what you’ve consigned to the Transfer station? For the sake of trendy 15-watt bulb spirituality you’ve tossed out the sense that a larger Personality is present to guide you, bless you, establish you, transform you. There’s way more to authentic spirituality than liturgical puppetry or self-helpism in oriental and pagan drag. If you’re not seeing the cross as the place to dump your soul-trash, if you’re not seeing the Being behind Hawk Mountain, and letting the rain, snow, wind and sun of His Word shape and mold you, then maybe you’re keeping your soul potted on the shelf, a green, leafy thing that longs for its roots to sink deeper than what 4 inches of pre-formed plastic allows.

 

Maybe you’ve been into this, that and the other, even a church that calls itself ‘Christian’ but isn’t. I’m just saying, take a good look to see if it’s dull green and has a sticker of Jesus on it encircled in red, because anything that keeps Him out is likely keeping the garbage in.

 

Pastor Richard Bowler

Jasper Park Baptist Church