“I never asked to be born!” says the sullen teenager to his parents. What possible interaction could elicit such an extreme response? What horrors of oppressive parenting were hounded upon this poor boy’s head? Could they not see that he was deeply interested—and quite competitively engaged, mind you—in his web-based, video game? It’s not like the trash is going anywhere; it’s been there for days without causing much trouble, so why must they mercilessly nag him to take it out? It comes down to this: be it video games or group texting, life is more important than taking out the garbage like we’re supposed to. Parents! It’s like they can think of nothing else and young people are reduced to the value of an empty trash barrel with a new plastic liner. So that’s it? That’s all I’m good for? I might as well not even exist, so long as you have your clean-and-happy, empty trash cans!
Yes, life can be hard, and hard is definitely relative. Living in the most affluent culture that has ever graced this planet produces the undesirable side-effect of constantly expecting things to work out in our personal favor. Yes, it’s good to believe in ourselves and it’s good to seek the higher virtues of mind and soul, but these things do not put us above the regular need to take out the garbage, because garbage is universal and thoroughly contagious. Garbage begats garbage, and once you begin to look the other way—or just allow yourself to neglect it by a constant attention to more attractive distractions— it can take on a life of its own. The garbage of this world has a life all its own. It seeks to multiply itself and replicate its DNA into every soul, family, community, culture, and society. It’s greatest chance for success comes from you and me—from us ignoring it, hoping someone else will deal with it, or simply fantasizing that the garbage will grow legs, make its way out the back door and jump itself into the garbage cans. The garbage absolutely wins the game when people just plain get used to it.
The truth is that the garbage is toxic and must be removed on a regular basis or else it begins to grow and stink up the whole house. Yes, it’s work—potentially unpleasant work—but if it is not done, we soon condemn ourselves to its miseries.
The season of Lent is all about taking out the garbage; namely, our personal, internal garbage—all the stuff inside of us that is stagnant and toxic. It doesn’t matter how many trips around this planet you’ve made; once you’re reminded that it’s time to take out the garbage, the sullen teenager inside us all starts to roll his eyes and get huffy.
“Do I really have to? Really? I mean, today? Right now? Can’t I just mind my own business and finish what I’m doing before I have to go to all that trouble and mess?”
The Holy Spirit says, “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s garbage, it’s beginning to fester, and if you don’t do something about it soon, you’re going to be knee-deep in the stuff and I won’t even be able to come into the room!”
So we are diligent about confessing our sins and asking the Holy Spirit to seek out the trashy corners of our souls. Things may look fine to us, but that’s not what matters. Pigs love life in the slop, but our calling is seek the image and likeness of our Lord Jesus in thought, word, and deed.
And yes, we live in a world that is in many ways trashy. How much of the trash have we just grown accustomed to? How much of it do we secretly love? All the more then, we need the Holy Spirit working in us, routing out the refuse. No, it’s not fun, neither is it easy, and the messiness factor sends the needle off the charts, but it simply must be done or else it can and will take us over entirely.
The Christian is life is unavoidably filled with difficulties, pains, trials, and constant trash. Part of our essential purpose is to make our way through the journey of this life without getting overwhelmed by the garbage. At the heart of the gospel is the promise that Jesus took out all the garbage—once and for all—that might actually destroy us. The garbage dump is called Calvary—the place where Jesus bore all the trash in the world—and on Good Friday, all that trash was destroyed. That the cross of Calvary has the power to destroy trash is still in effect. You and I can take our trash there anytime and be guaranteed its destruction.
It’s good news to all who dislike trash. It’s bad news to those still in love with all the garbage—and that says something about the final judgment.
Let us be diligent, encouraging each other in dealing with the garbage around us—in our homes, in our culture, and in ourselves—always remembering that the triumph of Christ over it all is permanent and absolute. †