Wasting: A Way Forward
Written and delivered by Marqus Cole, at Oconee Street UMC on September 21, 2025.
In the Garden of Eden… do you think there was waste?
Take a moment. Imagine it if you will. Scripture tells us that “in the beginning,” there was wild and waste—tohu va’vohu. The Spirit hovered and God brought order.
In Genesis 1, we’re given a rhythm of forming and filling: Three days to form the spaces—heavens above, waters below, land in between. Three days to fill those spaces—with heavenly host, swarming creatures, beasts of the earth—and finally, humanity.
And then came Shabbat. Rest. Before the humans ever acted, they were invited to stop, to behold, and to join in the cadence of creation in divine presence.
So I ask again: Was there waste in Eden?
Genesis 2 gives us a more “earthy” version of the story. The LORD formed adam from the adamah—flesh from soil—and breathed into them the breath of life. God planted a garden, placed humanity within it, and said: “Cultivate. Keep. Protect. Serve.” A commission not to exploit, but to tend and consume in right relation—according to the Wisdom of God. So, for a third time I ask:
In that sacred beginning, was there waste?
As the Organizing Director for Georgia Interfaith Power and Light, I spend time with people of faith across this state—talking about land, energy, climate, justice, but also about calling, vocation, and sacred responsibility.
In fact, I’ve been in this very basement here at Oconee Street multiple times. Having coffee. Having cake. Having fellowship and conversations with so many of you and occasionally on Sundays like this one, I get to open up scripture with a community and ask, “Do you think there was waste in the Garden?” “Was there waste in Eden?”You see, these questions are speed bumps—or maybe roundabouts—on the theological highway. They force us to slow down and to re-center.
Because we’re busy, right?
Paying bills. Raising kids. Checking in on grandkids. Composting, maybe? Recycling when we can remember. Loving God. Trying to love our neighbor. And yet, a question like this—Was there waste in Eden?—invites us to think about something deeper than consumption.
It asks us about direction. It’s not just a question about what was—It’s about what will be. And crucially, how we are living already as we wait for the not-yet. Today’s message is titled: WASTING: A Way Forward. Yes, it’s a dad joke (and I own that). But, so as not to be wasteful, it also carries a spiritual invitation. An invitation to reframe the story we’re living in—and the story we’re telling.
Scripture Reading – Luke 16:1–13
Now let’s turn to the Gospel text: The Parable of the Dishonest Manager.
Jesus told his disciples: “There was a rich man whose manager was accused of wasting his possessions. 2 So he called him in and asked him, ‘What is this I hear about you? Give an account of your management, because you cannot be manager any longer.’
3 “The manager said to himself, ‘What shall I do now? My master is taking away my job. I’m not strong enough to dig, and I’m ashamed to beg— 4 I know what I’ll do so that, when I lose my job here, people will welcome me into their houses.’
5 “So he called in each one of his master’s debtors. He asked the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’
6 “‘Nine hundred gallons[a] of olive oil,’ he replied.
“The manager told him, ‘Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it four hundred and fifty.’
7 “Then he asked the second, ‘And how much do you owe?’
“‘A thousand bushels[b] of wheat,’ he replied.
“He told him, ‘Take your bill and make it eight hundred.’
8 “The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light. 9 I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.
10 “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. 11 So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? 12 And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own?
13 “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.”
It’s a strange one, isn’t it?
When I was first invited to preach, I went straight to the lectionary to see what was assigned. And sure enough… Luke 16. That isn’t entirely true. The first thing I did was say a prayer, because today happens to be the birthday of my lovely wife, Amanda, who has joined us today with my daughters. And last year at about this time, I was in Savannah, at another church, doing some teaching, on her birthday.
So maybe you understand why there was wisdom in praying and discerning about coming here today? I don't think the third time will be a charm. But when I opened Luke 16, I recalled the words of Robert Farrar Capon, in his famous book on the parables, he titled the chapter on this one: “The Hardest Parable.” And you can see why.
A dishonest manager is caught wasting his master’s resources. He cooks the books to gain favor. And then—shockingly—the master commends him! What are we to do with that? Why would Jesus follow it with those piercing words:
“Whoever is faithful with little will be faithful with much…” “You cannot serve both God and Mammon.”
Let’s sit with that.
Here’s where I want to invite you deeper into the subtext.
The Greek word used for wasting in Luke 16 is diaskorpizōn. It means to scatter, squander, disperse—to throw away what was meant to be held together. This isn’t just mismanagement, it’s disintegration. What’s stunning is that same word—diaskorpizōn—shows up just one chapter earlier in Luke 15: “The younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered (diaskorpizōn) his property in dissolute living.”
So the “prodigal son” and the “dishonest manager” share more than poor judgment. They share the same action.
They waste.
They squander.
They disintegrate what was given in trust. And here we arrive at our first major truth of the day:
Our hearts, apart from God, are prone to waste what is not ours. Whether it’s money, relationships, forests, time, or even the very breath in our lungs, we scatter it when we forget whose it is. We turn Eden into exile, and we go back to wild and waste and undo God’s heart for order and creation.
But what happens next? In both stories—of the wasteful son and the dishonest manager—the response is… shocking.
Not wrath.
Not rejection.
But Grace.
Grace that is unexpected. Grace that meets us in our unworthiness and still welcomes us home-A father running to embrace a son before he can finish his apology. A master commending a manager’s shrewdness, not his ethics, but his clarity about what matters. Could it be that the Wisdom of God is teaching us, through parable, that even our wasting can become the beginning of wisdom, if it leads us to mercy, humility, and love? And that brings us to our second truth of the morning:
Wasting, when repented of, can be a way forward. Over and over we see God returning and delivering His people from exile, wilderness, and waste…to His promised place. When they repent.
Jesus doesn’t say, “Don’t be rich.” He says, “You cannot serve God and Mammon.” Mammon isn’t just money—it’s a worldview. An idol made of extraction and hoarded scarcity. It is a mindset that sees land not as sacred, but as a resource to exploit. It is a paradigm that views people not as neighbors, but as labor to consume. It’s a story that measures value in profit margins, not in peace or justice. And we see the fruits of that bad tree all around us:
Pipelines carved through Black communities in the name of “progress.”
Forests leveled for overseas biomass.
Pollution dumped near schools while policymakers look away.
Energy-burdened neighbors who can’t afford fossil-fueled utility bills while carbon chokes the air.
You don’t need a theology degree to see: Mammon is alive and well. And has too many worshippers. And the turning point of Jesus’ teaching in this passage is this: You cannot live in Eden if your loyalty lies with Mammon.
Just in case we forget—Creation itself bears witness.
The heavens declare God’s glory.
The rocks will cry out if we do not.
Creation itself groans, waiting to be set free into the glory of the children of God. Creation is not passive. It is a prophet. And it has something to say about who we serve. So, what of allegiance? Let’s lift our eyes.
In Isaiah 32, which we read earlier, a renewed Eden begins when:
“The Spirit is poured out from on high…”
“Justice will dwell in the desert…”
“Righteousness will abide in the field…”
What happens when wastelands receive God’s grace and renewal? Peace, quiet trust, secure dwellings, and healing. In Revelation 22, the story ends with Eden restored in the New Creation:
A river flows from the throne of God.
The Tree of Life bears fruit in every season.
And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.
Let me be clear, the “New Creation” is not all new. Scripture does not call to mind a “brand new” creation. It pictures a renewed Creation. If we don’t note that reality, we risk believing a dangerous story. Too often I hear Christians say, “This world doesn’t matter because God’s just going to throw it away.” But that’s not what the resurrection shows us. Jesus has the scars on his body for his followers to see. A renewed creation.
Too often, I hear Believers say, “There is nothing for me to do about caring for creation right now because that is for God to handle.” That’s not what Scripture shows us.From Genesis to Revelation, the imagery is consistent-God wants His people, in His presence, in His place. That place is a unified heaven and earth. When they are in that place, they are called to be in right relationship with the land and creation.
So I’ll ask one last time: Was there waste in Eden? As best I can tell, the answer is: No.
In the beginning, there was wild and waste to be sure, but when God took the sovereign act of creating and planting his people in his garden to be in his presence, there was no waste. When we look at scripture and what is to come, I think it suggests there will be none in the Garden to come.
I want to move from “what” and “so what” of the text and subtext. And move to the “now what” of our context. Perhaps our task here and now is to begin living as though we belong to that garden to come, even while we bear witness in this one. And this brings us to our third and final truth:
How we live now, how we spend, plant, pray, and forgive matters.
Not because it earns us something, but because it reveals who and what we serve. As the Psalmist writes: “The earth is the Lord’s, and all that is in it.”
So as we step deeper into this Season of Creation, let me ask:
Are we living as if creation is a gift—or a commodity?
Are we using what we’ve been given to restore—or to scatter?
Are we managing the Master’s house with reverence—or with waste?
If we have wasted, and I know in my own life I have and sometimes still do…Might we begin again? Because even at the end of our wasting, there is still a way forward.
Back to the Garden. Back to God.
Back to our sacred role as keepers and stewards of all that is good. May the God who wastes nothing, the Christ who redeems everything, and the Spirit who renews all things, go with you now. That you may live as sacred stewards of this world, planting hope, scattering love, and gathering again toward New Creation.
Amen.
