Scott Freeman

The incomparable (i.e. the Fish Era) Marillion:

Today is garage sale day.

People picking through the accumulation of my life’s possessions and assigning nickel and dime values to them.

Fun times.

Make!

High!

School!

Musical!

Two!

Stop!

Now!

Please!

It is driving me crazy. And I can’t get that one blasted song out of my head.

OK, continue on with your day.

I’m not by nature a nostalgic person. I don’t spend a whole lot of time looking backwards. In addition, I don’t always deal that well with transition. I spend so much time looking ahead that I often fail to pay attention to where I am at the moment.

So, I don’t have a lot of qualms or misgivings about moving despite the fact that the move is not without a great deal of pain and disappointment.

However, there is one aspect of moving that really has bothered me and I never saw it coming or expected to feel something so undefinable to me.

Last week, Tracy and I went to a parent/teacher conference with Chloe’s first grade teacher. Chloe loves school and it’s already apparent to us that she will excel in the classroom. So, it was a joy to go and hear about how well she is doing.

As we sat in the little chairs and talked to the teacher about Chloe’s progress I was able to look over and see her desk and how she has everything arranged according to her specifications and preferences. And that is when I began to really feel a tremendous sadness that we have to move her.

I’m not necessarily sad that she has to begin at a new school. She makes friends quickly and everyone seems to genuinely like her. That’s not the problem.

It’s not the fact that she has to begin anew studying different things and get up to speed with another classroom. That’s not it, either.

What bothers me, and what I have a hard time putting into words, is the fact that life will go on without her. That, to others, she will be replaceable.
There will be sadness that she is gone. Her classmates will be able to look over and see her empty desk where once she smiled and laughed and learned.
They will miss her.
But eventually someone else will take her seat. Or the desk will be removed.
However it happens life will go on without her.

And that bothers me. Greatly. She is invaluable. Irreplaceable.
But not to everyone.

Does this make sense to anyone else but me. Or am I just overly morbid?

I grew up in the conservative Churches of Christ. It is still where I hang my hat ministerially. However, as I have grown in my “knowledge and understanding” of Scripture and the nature and character of God I have developed my own doctrine, if you will, that sometimes runs counter to what is traditionally viewed as orthodoxy.

I know I’m not alone and that what is going on with the Churches of Christ is a microcosm of what takes place across the broader evangelical world.

But, I wrestle regularly with what to say as I struggle with what this faith means.

What is too critical and nit-picky?
What truly needs to be said?
How do we sound the call away from orthodoxy and toward orthopraxy without losing the audience?
How do we broach controversial topics that need to be addressed and re-studied without alienating others and thwarting essential dialogue?

I plan to make this a semi-regular feature of my blog: things about my new town and church family that I love. And what better way to start with the fact that I don’t have to wear a tie when I preach.

I hate ties. I hate them in all their permutations. The greatest evidence of the dupe-ability of the human race is the PR guy who was able to convince people that this is a good idea despite the fact that it is akin to auto-asphyxiation.

Seriously, the most wide-spread form of torture today is a neck-tie. You should only wear a tie if you are going to a funeral, if you are getting married or you have been invited to the Hilary Clinton Inaugural Ball.

When I interviewed at Agape the elders told me not to mess with wearing a tie on Sunday morning. I was already in town, it was late on Saturday night and I didn’t have anything but a shirt and tie. I was only too happy to make a late night stop at Wal-Mart and buy a shirt.

I hate ties. Just hate them. I believe they are perpetuated because it is the closest thing that men can experience that relates to the female pain of childbirth.

When I was in Michigan I didn’t wear them preaching. In Waco, I had to despite the great risk of a tie being wrapped around the mike stand while preaching.

No more. Death to ties. I love that about my new church families.

This beautiful chapter from Alice Walker’s Pulitzer Prize Winning The Color Purple:

Dear Nettie,

I don’t write to God no more, I write to you.
What happen to God? ast Shug.
Who that? I say.
She look at me serious.
Big a devil as you is, I say, you not worried bout no God, surely.
She say, Wait a minute. Hold on just a minute here. Just because I don’t harass it like some peoples us know don’t mean I ain’t got religion.
What God do for me? I ast.
She say, Celie! Like she shock. He gave you life, good health, and a good woman that love you to death.
Yeah, I say, and he give me a lynched daddy, a crazy mamma, a lowdown dog of a step pa and a sister I probably won’t ever see again. Anyhow, I say, the God I been praying and writing to is a man. And act just like all the other mens I know. Trifling, forgetful and lowdown.
She say, Miss Celie, you better hush. God might hear you.
Let ‘im hear me, I say. If he ever listened to poor colored women the world would be a different place, I can tell you…
…I is a sinner, say Shug. Cause I was born. I don’t deny it. But once you find out what’s out there waiting for us, what else can you be?
Sinners have more good times, I say.
You know why? she ast.
Cause you ain’t all the time worrying about God, I say.
Naw, that ain’t it, she say. Us worry bout God a lot. But once us feel loved by God, us do the best us can to please him with what us like.
You telling me God love you, and you ain’t never done nothing for him? I mean, not go to church, sing in the choir, feed the preacher and all like that.
But if God love me, Celie, I don’t have to do all that. Unless I want to. There’s a lot of other things I can do that I speck God likes.
Like what? I ast.
Oh, she say. I can lay back and just admire stuff. Be happy. Have a good time.
Well, this sound like blasphemy sure nuff.
She say, celie, tell the truth, have you ever found God in church? I never did. I just found a bunch of folks hoping for him to show. Any God I ever felt in church I brought in with me. And I think all the other folks did too. They come to church to share God, not find God.

That’s more theology than most stuff at Mardel has. Or try this quote about not noticing the color purple in a field:

People think pleasing God is all God care about. But any fool living in the world can see it always trying to please us back.

Think of what we would miss if others determined what we could read. We would miss out on passages like that that propel us to think about God in fresh and compelling ways.

Have you been blessed by banned or challenged books? In what ways. And remember The Bible tops the list of banned books.

We are neck deep. Here is what is going on around these parts:

–This weekend is the big garage sale. Hopefully we can get rid of a bunch of the excess that we have accumulated since the last one we had almost 6 years ago.

–We plan on loading up on the 22nd and being Oklahomans on the 23rd. That’s just two weeks away. And still so much to do. We need to lock in a truck yesterday.

–Houston Nutt is apparently going to be allowed to finish the season. Why?

–Scrabble is way too addictive on facebook. We are selling version 1.0 in our garage sale. If you haven’t added me on Facebook, by all means, look me up.

–World Communion Sunday was such a blessing. One especially moving moment was when the communion passage was read in Greek, Spanish, German, Afrikaans and English.

–For years I’ve been unable to part with my “salad” tapes. I would spend hours perfecting the perfect mix tapes to enjoy in the car. Now, I have learned how to put them on my iPod. I love technology.

–My car is in the shop. Stupid Alternator.

–So, we have this refrigerator. It’s a big side-by-side. We bought it when we bought our first house 9 years ago. It’s been moved 6 times and taken a beating each time. It works fine but the doors have taken a licking and the ice maker no longer works. I say we sell it and do a same as cash on a new one and not mess with moving it yet again. But fridges are expensive.

–I’m looking forward to beginning preaching in Ponca City. I’m brainstorming an initial preaching series. I’ll have 4-5 Sundays before the start of Advent. Any thoughts?

–Tony Romo will you throw a few touchdown passes to Marion Barber tonight? Please?

I have 3 Sundays with no place to go. I hope to use that as an opportunity to check out some of the other faith traditions in the area.

I really hope to visit our cousins at a Disciples congregation.

There is an Anabaptist church that looks cool but it’s about 30 miles away.

There is a church near us that is offering 30 minute worship services but, really, what’s the point?

Where would you go? Any suggestions?

Two Tuesdays. Two phenomenal albums.

One artist releasing a career-defining disk.

The other proving that he is still The Boss.

Melissa Etheridge’s The Awakening is a companion to Bruce’s earlier “The Rising.” Far and away the best outing of her career. Every track crackles with emotion, rage and pathos.

“The Kingdom of Heaven” is my favorite track:

The first single is “Message To Myself”

And what can be said about Bruce? It’s his best album since “Born In The USA.” And that’s high praise.

“Radio Nowhere”