Brothers and sisters--or as my Uncle Allen would say, "brethren and cistern"--brothers and sisters, we gather today in celebration. And by "today," I mean whatever day it is you read this, from whatever computer located in whatever part of this beautiful blue marble we call Planet Earth, for this celebration is special.
This celebration is two-fold.
This celebration knows not the boundaries of time--except that the time for this celebration is now.
This celebration knows not the boundaries of space--except that space is running out.
Today marks Day One post-Crapture in this part of our world.
Yes, my friends--today we close the door on the Bin and open the door to a new, reduced-crap life.
As King James told us our brother Matthew once wrote that Jesus said (6:19) "Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and dust doth corrupt and where thieves break through and steal." To Jesus, and Matthew and King James, I would say these things: you forgot to mention the rodents, and one might only wish that thieves wanted this crap, for insurance payments must follow and why else have we been paying premiums all these years?
However, the point is this: what we have been holding on to, my brothers and sisters, is the past. In the past, we have had visions of future projects for which we might need hundreds of metal lids from frozen juice containers and dozens of emptied margarine tubs. In the past, we have had hope that the leaks in our vessels for storing and dispensing water would heal themselves if we carefully labeled those vessels and left them in the basement. In the past, we have imagined setting aside time to re-read annotated devotion books from the 1990s.
But today, we have been freed from that past. We have been floundering in the Inland Sea of Life (the deeper part), weighted down with visions for the future that required keeping this crap. And today, we cut ourselves free. We no longer cling tight to those visions of the future that require that crap. And thus, we float to the surface, and we begin our swim anew.
Of course, our new life will have challenges of its own. As we celebrate our new existence, we must also bear in mind that this celebration has two parts. Yes, are free from the past--detritus from times past no longer holds us back.
But in our new life, we must also take up a new vision: we do not want future generations to hold fast to the burdens we have only recently cast off. Remember, this jubilee knows not the boundaries of space, for the Crapture can happen anywhere--but everywhere, space is running out. As the wise bumper sticker writer has said, most often in Santa Fe and Boulder, "Throw it away? There is no 'away.'"
Therefore, even in our new, reduced-crap state, we must exercise discipline. Yes, we need strategies to dispose of coffee cans once they are emptied of the fuel for our lives. We do not need to keep empty coffee cans in the basement. No, we do not! We are making headway on those strategies--sending five off with Gordon the handyman to line the bottom of his toolbox was a good beginning, and we can pat ourselves on the back for it.
But brothers and sisters, we need to continue. We need the discipline to pursue those strategies, even unto sorting our refuse before taking it to the recycle depot on the next day we combine errands in town.
And I say to you, even discipline is not enough. We need to do more. For, as those who have borrowed against the equity in their house to pay their credit card bills have discovered, some so-called "solutions" are temporary band-aids, completely ineffective against the spurting arteries of spending.
In the same vein--as my Uncle Allen would say--in the same vein, throwing crap away is a temporary solution at best. We need to do yet more. That's right, brothers and sisters: each of us, and all of us together, must take up a new attitude to match our new freedom in our new, reduced-crap life. We must think differently and do differently. Specifically, we must do our part to create less crap in the first place.
We can meet this challenge, yes we can. We can carry travel mugs with us as we trek from coffee shop to coffee shop, thereby avoiding the use of disposable cups. We can look on store shelves for products wrapped in less packaging. And those ready for the ultimate challenge can do this: we can think twice before buying new crap.
Oh, brothers and sisters. Can you hear the naysayers? I can! I can hear them now, saying "Nay! The economic engines of our countries will grind to a halt if we spend not!" But do not be persuaded by them. The reach of the spendthrift world is wide and its grip is mighty. But it clings to past economic indicators and tries to predict the future based on murky measures of consumer confidence.
We can, and must, live by other measures. As people in the reduced-crap world, we have a new outlook on business. Our business is to act responsibly today in a way that ensures for our own children, and our children's children, a crap-free tomorrow.
For what would we leave our grandchildren: a hundred metal lids from frozen orange juice cans, or a paradise in which to drink a locally produced, culturally appropriate beverage, by which I mean coffee? If we're lucky, and our own parents and grandparents were very lucky, we can do both. They did. And so I can, and do, bless them and their memories every day over my morning cup.
But we live in a different world, and our children and children's children will live in a still different one. For us, the time is now, and everywhere, space is running out. We must make a choice. Let's make the right choice. Let's choose crap-free.
