Beauty for Trashes

Is 61:3

To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.


Last Sunday, for Earth Day, the church I attend decided to pick up trash as our service activity which we do every month or so. Our meeting place borders between the haves and have-nots in Lancaster City and it does not seem like the dichotomy is lessening. Instead, it almost seems like the good news and bad news are like two different pipes, pumping out news at about the same volume and speed. So, when the bow-tied mayor speaks of all the good things happening, he is being truthful. Yet, it is difficult to argue that the good outweighs the bad. It is truly Manichean. The soul of the city--not two souls--is in danger of being torn asunder. Not a Tale of Two Cities, but one. But, two tales.

I instead selected to stay in my neighborhood to clean up the trash. I am essentially a fan of localism. That is, take care of your own space and work outwards. Lancaster City is like a second home to me in that I lived there for over 7 years and now spend a considerably amount of time and cash within its confines. As it is, I now live in a lower middle and working class development in West Hempfield Twp. which borders some Section 8 housing. It is the "Badlands" of the Hempfield School District which is of course a relative term. Not Lancaster City bad, certainly not Philly bad. But, bad in that there is more hurt here than in other places around.

I like living in multi-ethnic places and this neighborhood has a great mixture of Whites, Blacks, and Latinos. We for the most part get along. There was a pretty serious argument between a bitchy White woman and a young Latino man about the improper volume of his automobile's sound system music that did almost get very ugly. Her former Navy Seal husband intervened and cooler heads prevailed. I kind of figured that they all deserved each other and stayed out of it as I observed it go down. I only found out later that the husband was packing heat and got very close to pulling out his gun.

So, between my development and the Section 8 housing, there is a common road. Along the side of the road to my development, trash has a tendency to collect like lint in a dryer. The high school kids wait on that grass and the road for the bus every morning and I surmise that some of the trash is their doing. Other trash just seems to coagulate in the zone from passersby because the side of the road really doesn't seem to belong to anyone around. In fact, it borders a graveyard of the family and relatives who used to own all of the land before housing was built up. It becomes an anonymous land where trash can pile up because there is not active force working against it. And I think some trash begets more trash. Soon, those inclined to litter face little guilt when they see others have trashed the place before them.

Thus, I headed out and collected about ten pounds of McDonald's detritus (no, not the food), soda bottles, and assorted other crap. It was interesting to reflect on the emotions triggered in me as I collected the harvest. Anger, frustration, self-righteousness, and more positive emanations like feeling a sense of order being restored, and even curiosity--like an Easter Egg Hunt of Refuse of what I was going to find next. In all, I had a sense of satisfaction with my work and the feelings of negativity dissipated. God loves a cheerful trash picker-upper.

My recycling bin was full to the max after I separated than which could go in there and that which could not. As an ironic kicker, someone stole my recycling bin, it appears, after I put it out Tuesday night. Not sure what meaning I can derive from that. It was just a weird coincidence.

Picking up trash could have a larger meaning I suppose. It is the effort of one or a group to offset the negative actions of another person or people. I had no moral obligation to pick the trash up yet it served as a community good I think. I want people to know that there are mindful people on the block who are paying attention. Watchmen, who work quietly to establish and reinforce a model that respects property. I doubt we are consciously aware of it all of the time yet there are markers where our minds put together an interpretation of a certain place.

I have recently been reading a lot of books about the imagination, craft, and the arts. I am presently reading Makato Fujimura's Culture Care. I found in Amazon's Kindle lending library which I have access to since I am a Prime Member. I know that Amazon gets a bad rap but I really hate shopping. I do my best to avoid malls and stores, except for my local beer distributor. I do enjoy the purviewing of beer and purchasing a case every couple of weeks. Otherwise, I prefer to go online and order it, rather than shop in person. I am not a very active accumulator of stuff. I live pretty lean and find joy in words and simple things. I don't need a lot and I live below my means. When I go to Costco, I am literally shopping for 3 months at a time.

Culture Care's thesis, to boil it down, is to promote the necessity of beauty, and the role of the artist in promulgating beauty, and how beauty is best and completely manifested bodily in the Person of Jesus Christ. One could view the crucifixion as a work of art, where the canvas of suffering was painted red and it was redemptive. It was if Jesus exchanged His treasure for the trash of the world.

So Culture Care seeks to be redemptive regardless of where the mess came from. Fujimura's book offers a way out of the Culture Wars of Left vs. Right. In the end, Christians are to absorb evil, to do the work as Jesus did. Rather than rebel and become rancorous, we need to quiet down, see the guilt in others as similar to our own, and get to work in making this world a better and more beautiful place.