Scott Freeman

I never intended to be on the front lines of evangelicals and the environmental movement. When the ECI was first released back in February of 2006 there were 86 Christian signatories to the document.

I was the 87th.

I sent an email to the coordinators of the document expecting that there would be a rush of people like me, ministers and religious leaders aware of climate change, who wanted their voices to be heard. That was not the case. For a while there were just 87 of us.

And, somehow, I received 14 of my allotted 15 minutes of fame for being a signatory. In the last year and a half I have talked to The Dallas Morning News, The BBC, Scientists at Yale University, A reporter for The Washington Post trying to get me to release details about a press release prior to its release (I refused), NPR and a host of smaller entities.

It has never failed in each of these interviews and conversations for a certain amount of incredulity to arise. That is largely due to the fact that just two of us who are affiliated with the Churches of Christ have signed the initiative (Royce Money of ACU being the other). But also it has to do with the fact that so many of us on the conservative end of the Christian world seem to be almost violently opposed to any acknowledgment of climate change. It has even been likened recently to paganism.

Now, fortunately, most Christians who don’t subscribe to the idea of climate change are not as offensive and dismissive as the author of the aforementioned link. But there is a wide-spread rejection among many.

Invariably one of the questions I am asked is what I am doing to incorporate this position into my preaching and teaching. My answer has been uniform: nothing.
This was a personal decision and I have no interest in arguing with anyone or imposing my conclusions upon others.

However, the reasons that I signed the initiative are many and relatively important to me. Here are the top 10 reasons I signed the initiative:

10. I realized that science and faith do not need to be at war with each other. I plan to blog more in the coming weeks and months about how I came to make peace with science.

9. I realized that I had allowed my political beliefs to inoculate me from honest inquiry. What I had missed in my earlier days was that this was not a political issue and warranted greater attention.

8. The evidence seemed overwhelming in favor of climate change. We can argue and debate whether or not that is true, whether or not it is simply cyclical and whether or not it is aided and abetted by man. But, to me, the evidence was clear.

7. I wanted to underscored that God’s giving man dominion over this world does not mean domination. True, godly stewardship involves care and compassion. It involves judicious responsibility and awareness.

6. I wanted my children to see their father commit to being environmentally responsible. It’s their world and I wanted them to know that I acknowledge that and live as if that is true.

5. I wanted to give people pause from painting climate care advocates as simply “tree-huggers” and “environmentalist wackos.” The tendency we have to paint people with pejorative labels is neither conducive, intelligent or holy.

4. I was concerned with my own consumerism highlighted by my dependence on energy and oil. Being on the front lines of this issue caused me to make my own lifestyle changes. Rather than signing this document and forgetting about it the continued media coverage has spurred me to remaining vigilant.

3. The matter is urgent. The impacts of this reality can already be felt among us.

2. We can make a difference. What we do now truly matters. And by being a voice in this cause maybe we can assure a better tomorrow.

1. If climate change is real, and I believe that it is, then the greatest effects and consequences will be passed down to the least of these, the world’s poor, forgotten and marginalized. And that is a holiness issue. If we are to truly love the least of these and give them hope then we must be aware of the fact that they will bear the brunt of our decisions.

That, in a nutshell, is why I signed the initiative.

I dug up this old photograph Look at all that hair we had.
It’s bittersweet to hear you laugh Your phone is ringing I don’t wanna ask

If you go now, I’ll understand If you stay, hey, I’ve got a plan
We’re gonna make a memory You wanna steal a piece of time
You can sing the melody to me And I can write a couple of lines

You wanna make a memory?

I’ve long been a Bon Jovi fan. I remember rocking to their debut album while watching the 1984 Olympics. I even liked some of the songs on their second album 7800 Fahrenheit.

So, in many ways I have grown up with them. I’ve always appreciated their music and enjoyed most of their disks. I’m a fan of Jon Bon Jovi. He swings for the fence lyrically in his attempt to be the next Springsteen but never quite get there. But I applaud and respect the attempt.

Growing up with them is part of the reason their latest single resonates with me so much. There is something about the power of memory that each of us, nostalgic or not, must acknowledge plays a part in our lives.

Memory is deceptive but it is at the same time indelible. I was a horrible football player but I am about 2-3 years away from being an all-American in the telling of my football days. The extremes are magnified while the mundane is blurry.

Memory fills in the gaps of our lives. I can still remember where I was when I heard most of those songs I post the videos too so often. I remember the snow falling and hearing Foreigner’s “Waiting For a Girl Like You.” I remember sitting in a movie theater with my fellow incoming seniors and hearing the opening riffs of John Parr’s “St. Elmo’s Fire.” I remember coming alive to the power of music the first time Springsteen’s “Born to Run” came over my radio.

Memories are the road-map that make sense of where we are going. I feel this so closely right now because I’m growing older. I know now a little more clearly how the events of my youth have conspired to bring me to this point. That’s not determinism but an understanding that there have been a series of choices and decisions, friendships forged and forgotten, roads traveled and avoided.

Memories are elusive and periodic friends. I celebrated my 20th high school reunion last year. Seeing the people who had once been the most important folks in my life after 10 years was both a blessing and a reminder of so much that has been lost. Promises to stay in touch never fulfilled and appointments never met. I think this is so profound right now because I look back now over such a long period in my life marked by wanderlust and transitoriness. I long for permanence in friendships, for alliances and relations renewed and resurrected.

Memories are glimpses of the eternal. I know that these memories are signs that true friendships may be marked my periods of dormancy but never pass. I carry faces, names and moments with me that will carry with me no matter where I go. For we shall meet again. Everytime I see a familiar name on Facebook or other reaches of this smaller world we inhabit I am stirred by the realization that all of us fall into the arms of a loving Father God. We shall meet again.

You want to make a memory?

Scripture is clear about one thing: there are two aspects to spirituality, the horizontal and the vertical. And those two aspects are interwoven with each other.
Simply put, you can not have a relationship with God (the vertical) if you don’t have a relationship with His children (the horizontal). Our vertical relationship is evidenced by the horizontal relationships.
If we concentrate on one at the expense of the other then both will become distorted. If we think that we can love God and fail to love all people then we can’t love God.

But I see Christians far too often try to do just that.

Growing up I was called by a lot of different names that were not my choosing.
I had bad acne, was overweight and had bad teeth.
I was a convenient target for a lot of name-calling.
It hurt. Some days, when I am truly honest and reflective, it still does.
I longed for the day that I would grow up and the name calling would cease.

Because adults, especially Christian adults, would never stoop to name-calling, right?
Right?
Refined, educated, godly people would never resort to slurs or epithets, would they?

What I have found, instead, is an all too pervasive proclivity to brandish people with derogatory aspersions. And I know that it grieves God.

I am amazed by how Christians will condescend to name-calling with those that we disagree with:

Homosexuals are a ‘bunch of queers,’ ’sicko’s,’ ‘fruits,’ ‘homo’s’ ‘perverts’ or ‘fags.’ Despite the fact that they are children of God.

Muslims are ‘towel heads,’ ’stans’ and they are all ‘zealous fanatics hell-bent on destroying the world.’ Despite the fact that they are children of God.

Environmentalists are ‘tree huggers’ and ‘environmentalist wackos.’ Despite the fact that they are children of God.

Those who are pro-choice are ‘baby-killers.’ Despite the fact that they are children of God.

Democrats are ‘commies,’ ‘pinko scum’ and ‘America haters.’ Despite the fact that they are children of God.

African Americans are, well you get the point.

To me, the saddest part of all of this is that these are phrases that I hear coming out of the mouth of Christians.
In the defense of what we believe to be true and right we have marginalized and stereotyped the very people that our Savior died for.

In John 10 Jesus proclaims that He is the Good Shepherd. He also proclaims that His sheep know His voice (v. 3)

How sad and appalling, nay damnable, it is that so many precious souls of God never get to hear the voice of the Shepherd because all they hear from His sheep is hatred and slurs.

And understand this, it is hatred. Everytime we utter the slur or insult, hatred has seized our heart. And we do not love God

We will never win the souls of homosexuals, Muslims, etc if we stand on the periphery of their lives and hurl our insults their way. And we do not love God.

We can disagree with their lifestyle choices or political views all day long but there is NEVER any defense for invective.

Yes, we need to “speak the truth in love.” However, aspersions are neither true, nor are they love. If Jesus is the Truth, and I believe Him to be, then we must approach those He loves as we would approach Him.

Christians, when we resort to name-calling then we negate an opportunity to be Christ to others. Jesus is our example, not Ann Coulter (I pray that she will experience God’s love).
Stop worrying so much about whether or not people know that you hate the sin. Stop worrying so much about labeling the sinner.

Let’s love God’s children.

Because understand this: by hurling hurtful names you show hatred toward God.

Growing up when I was called ‘fatty’ or ‘bucky’ or ‘zit-face’ it tore me up. When I turn my ire upon someone else today through the same weapon of name-calling I grieve the Lord.

Let’s end the name calling and instead be the voice of the Good Shepherd in a lost and dying world, shall we?

If you noticed I added a plug-in that shows what I am listening to on last.fm. If you use last.fm, add me as a friend. My user name is sfree96.

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I am out of the office for the most part of the day. I thought I would re-run an article I wrote several months back. Several of you mentioned it as one of your favorites. I know it is one of mine.

I Had a Blog Post Today…

…but I deleted it.

Therefore, I will not blog today.

I was going to blog about the anger I feel about the injustice, hatred and mean-spiritedness I witness all too often in the world today.

But, I removed it, because it seemed too angry and mean-spirited on my part.

So, I’ll just keep quiet and lay low. I’ll remain quiet out of the fear of offending. I’ll still my voice in order to avoid stirring the waters of public debate and frustration.

Nope, no blogging today.

I’m probably wrong anyway.

* I’m probably wrong to care less about the USA than I do the Kingdom of God.
* I’m probably wrong to believe that war is wrong and violence is never the answer.
* I’m probably wrong to view children of Iraqi’s to be as precious as my own.
* I’m probably wrong to want my children to go to public school (even though I support Private education and have benefited from it) so they can learn at an early age to be salt and light.
* I’m probably wrong to believe that laws are often misguided and the health of a nation depends upon dissent against civil rights abuses. Maybe Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King, Jr shouldn’t be heroes of mine.
* I’m probably wrong to believe that it means something that the one time Jesus talked about judgment He did so in regards to how we treat the poor and the forgotten.
* I’m probably wrong to interpret grace into Old Testament laws of dealing with sojourners and aliens.
* I’m probably wrong to worry about genocide and AIDS in other lands when there is so much here to be concerned about like Brangelina’s baby.
* I’m probably wrong to want to love more than I judge.
* I’m probably wrong to believe that hatred runs deep into the fabric of American society–against gays, illegal immigrants, the French, Democrats, Republicans, minorities, or whatever group catches our ire at this particular point in time.
* I’m probably wrong about worrying about having too much “stuff.” I should just suck it up and buy a new car since the one I’m driving doesn’t have air conditioning in this Texas heat.
* I’m probably wrong to believe that the words of Jesus should propel us to make peace, love enemies, and deny self.
* I’m probably wrong to believe that political parties cannot be champions of the Kingdom due to differing agendas.
* I’m probably wrong to feel so discontent with the state of the church’s compassion, love and humanity for the lost, disaffected, poor and foreigner.
* I’m probably wrong to feel so much regret for all the times I’ve harbored hatred, hurled ethnic slurs, branded sinful people with vitriolic names, and supported agendas that suited me at the expense of others.
* I’m probably wrong to believe that being stewards of God’s creation means care for the creation and not just domination of it.
* I’m probably wrong to believe the greatest terrorist threat is not one of flesh and blood.
* I’m probably wrong to believe that it is a travesty that so many cannot afford insurance.
* I’m probably wrong to believe that liberals can be Christians despite what some might say.

So, instead of blogging today, I’ll just keep my mouth shut. I’ll not unburden my heart.

Cause, I’m probably wrong.

Although I sure don’t feel like I am.

In fact, I feel like I’m getting closer to the heart of Jesus.

And I really pray I’m not wrong about that.

My blogging buddy Phil Wilson has already written a great post about this sign, so I won’t repeat what he has already said.

However, I want to tip my hat to several churches in Australia who are tapping into the subversive and life-transforming power of the gospel.

In a world that is so prone to fear, where the lines of demarcation between “enemies” and “friends” are so sharply drawn, we need the continual reminder of the words of Jesus to “love our enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

The prospect of praying for someone like Osama is one I reflexively flinch at. He hates me, those I love and my faith.

And yet, I am reminded of another terrorist. Another man who wanted nothing more than to see the deaths of believers in Christ.

But an encounter on the road to Damascus changed all that. And although he considered himself to be “the foremost of sinners” he knew that Christ died for him.

It’s a tough message. But, honestly, it’s a tough gospel. A stumbling block.

I began work at my current congregation a little over 2 years ago. When I came the church was in a transitional period having undergone a split about 6 months previous. Three reasons spurred my decision to accept what many would believe to be an unattractive position:

1. It was closer to family and where Tracy received her undergrad.
2. I love a challenge
3. The church owned property in a more upscale, faster growing area with the dream of building on that land sometime in the near future.

Two years later that dream of moving to a new location seems further away than ever. We are a rapidly aging congregation with limited resources and few young couples..
We could not finance a new build no matter how much we wanted to.
And no longer do I think we should.

Our building is an older structure, sitting along I-35 in a very economically depressed, primarily Hispanic area of north Waco. Many of our neighbors either don’t speak English or struggle with communicating competently. The houses that surround our facility are run-down, ramshackle rental homes. Our neighbors clamor for our aid in clothing, food and other assistance.

Why would we want to move? There are too many churches that have fled to the suburbs. Not enough have elected to stay among the least of these. I hope that we will choose to.

Granted, we haven’t been a very good neighbor through the years. I think our long-standing members would agree to that.

But we are seeking to rectify that:

–This past Saturday about 25 of us showed up to go and knock doors in our immediate neighborhood. Our purpose was to invite them to our annual Friend Day this coming Sunday. After our worship time we will provide them with a catered barbecue dinner. (Note: we had 2 families show up yesterday, simply because we asked.)

–Each week we give away a lot of groceries in addition to operating a Clothes Closet for people who need adequate clothing. We are currently inviting all those who seek us out over the next 2 weeks to come to a free Valentine Dinner for them and their spouses/significant-other. The people in our neighborhood would never be able to take their loved one to a romantic dinner. We want to provide them the opportunity to do just that.

–I am currently searching for someone in the area to come and teach us Spanish. What better way to show that we love and care for our neighbors than to illustrate that by being willing to learn their language rather than simply expecting them to learn ours?

I know that if these and other efforts that I hope we undertake bear fruit that I will have to change my approach to things. My preaching will need to become more simplistic. I will need to network more among urban ministers.
But that is what I am willing and excited to do if we will commit to being more missional.

Here is my question for you: what suggestions for events/ministry offerings would you suggest we try? How can we better be a light where we are? How do we share Jesus here?
For this I know: we are in this neighborhood for a reason. To love the people God has surrounded us with. How can we love them better?

This begins my new sermon series titled “The Scarlet Thread, Part 2: Who Jesus Calls Us To Be.” Today’s text is from Matthew 5:48, “Be perfect, therefore, as your Heavenly Father is perfect.”
I got worked up a little.

Click here to get your own player.

I wish that I had a better video of this song as the words are staggering. I’ve wrestled with whether or not to blog about 9/11 today. I know that where I am at regarding that day and the aftermath may not meet the most receptive of ears at this time.
But I weep for those lives lost, not just on this particular day but the lives of all those lost
fighting the wars of man.
And I applaud the heroes of that day, those who saved, rescued and sacrificed. Heroism was pervasive and apparent on that Tuesday.
Yet, evil is all too pervasive and entwined in the hearts of man. And we have danced with the devil for so long it seems that we don’t know how to stop. War has spawned more war and violence has beget more violence.
Come quickly, Lord. May your Kingdom be made manifest, either through your triumphant return or through the righteous living of Your church.
All I can do in the aftermath of that day is consider my own response. Mark Erelli’s words ring true here. This song, The Only Way, was written shortly after the attack. He left it alone for almost five years allowing other artist to record it.
But earlier this year he released an album, Hope & Other Casualties, that burns with lament, passion and ethos. It has quickly become my favorite release in a year of stellar albums. Here are the lyrics to this beautiful song:

I read the paper
I watch the news
It seems there’s only pain and sufferin’
And there ain’t nothing I can do
It’s so senseless
I feel defenseless
So small

I could shut my windows
Bolt my doors
But if I don’t feel safe enough
To speak my mind anymore
Then what’s the use
I’ve nothing left to lose
No further to fall

(Chorus)
So I’m gonna love
I’m gonna believe
I’m gonna dream
But I’m gonna roll up my sleeve
And give everything until there’s nothing left to give
That’s the only way that I know how to live

It was a nightmare
No tongue can tell
The streets of New York City
Looked just like the gates of Hell
In a flash
The smoke and the ash
Falling down like rain

But they circled wagons
They gathered round
As they bravely pulled our brothers
And our sisters from the ground
And I know
I owe them more
Than to be afraid

(Chorus)

Why seek vengeance?
What comes of war?
I know freedom has a price
But it doesn’t keep score
It’s too much to swallow
It’s left me hollow
After all this time
All this time

I won’t tell you
What to believe
But I’m too young to be so cynical
And too old to be naive
Every action
Breeds a reaction
So let this be mine

Let me close with these words from Stanley Hauerwas:

In the face of September 11, I distrust words. I fear no matter how hard we try to say what needs to be said, what we say may threaten to explain when no explanation is possible. For me, a person seldom at a loss for words, I find my continuing reaction to September 11, 200l, to be one of silence. I simply do not know what to say. At least one of the reasons I have nothing to say is because I am a pacifist. I am, whether I like it or not, committed to Christian nonviolence. The horror, the terror, the strange beauty of the violence on September ll, calls for a response, a violent response. Being a pacifist does nothing to free me from the desire to set things right by punishing those who perpetrated such an outrage. Conflicted I remain silent, fearing any words I may say would suggest a confidence I do not have…
…If we are to preach truthfully after September 11, 200l, we must not try to say too much. We must not pretend we have an answer to explain what happened or know what response we–and who is the we?–might make. I have no pacifist foreign policy. I believe the church is God’s foreign policy. Which makes it all the more important that we be able truthfully to preach God’s word.

I talk a lot about social justice and caring for the poor and marginalized in our society.  Jimmy Dorrell does more than just talk.  He is making a difference in the Waco community.

14 years ago, this month, he began meeting with homeless people underneath a bridge along I-35 in Waco. Before long it became a weekly church service.  Today that church meets weekly under the bridge, providing hope and redemption to the forgotten souls here.

Here is a YouTube video of The Church Under The Bridge. Jimmy’s vision has spawned other movements under bridges in other cities as well.

Jimmy’s work is contained in the most vital ministry in the Waco area called Mission Waco.  I have had the honor of getting to know Jimmy, eat with him and participate in a group of urban ministers concerned about being the Kingdom in the midst of the lives of the “least of these.” He knows them and he loves them.

Today sees the release of his book: “Trolls & Truth: 14 Realities About Today’s Church That We Don’t Want to See“

This is a book that you will want to read.  Will you support this ministry? If so, click the link above and buy it today. 

Read this summary from the promotional copy of the book:

Every city has a group of troll-like rejected misfits. They are the homeless, the prostitutes, the greedy, and the addicts. These are the people on the fringe to whom churches close their doors, the ones you move away from on the pew. They are the marginalized, rejected, and forgotten cultural lepers who lurk outside your church. They are the most unlikely prophets of all.
 
Trolls & Truth is the story of a local church of homeless people; college students; middle-class Christians; some poor and some rich; black, white, and brown; drunks; materialists; mentally ill; and former inmates who meet beneath the noise of 18-wheelers and rushing traffic under an interstate bridge in Waco, Texas. As they live out biblical mandates across cultural barriers and institutional baggage, they remind us that the gospel cannot be shaped by socially accepted values and remain “good news.” Through their testimonies they reveal the mystery that such a diverse group without buildings and traditional expectations are finding the power of the gospel in ways that brings cultural validity to the skeptics and unbelieving world. They have a wake-up call for the American church.
 
Transformation in the church must come. In new wineskins and perhaps through the life of an old wino, our ecclesiology must be upended by the “least of these,” the hungry, imprisoned, sick, and stranger. Intentional efforts in local congregations must be made to reconnect the rich and the poor; the black, white, and brown; those educated in the university; and those educated on the streets. Only then can we wrestle with the values of the kingdom and learn the lessons that this God of the little people wants us to know.

For the record:

• If a scantily clad super-model plops herself down on my desk, I’m probably going to lust.
• If I accidently cut my leg off with a power tool, I’m probably going to mutter some choice words.
• If someone impersonates me and begins to earn money speaking at NRA rallies, I’m probably going to get angry.
• If someone tells me an off-color joke that is the funniest thing ever told featuring midgets, tambourines and hot air balloons, I’m probably going to laugh.

I’m human. I sin. I know that to do any of those things would be wrong. But I’d probably do it anyway. If we sit here long enough you could probably propose an absurd enough scenario where I would succumb to temptation.

The fact that I would fall under the right circumstances does not negate the fact that these are still sins.
So, if:

• Osama bin Laden was able to mask his identity, smuggle across the US border, elude all of our federal agents and crime-fighters and find himself holed up in our house when we come home to find him unexpectedly wielding a knife at my wife and children I would probably fight to the death.

It amazes me how some people will immediately dismiss the idea of non-violence when we see first-hand that it is the way of Christ. For some, in the church, non-violence is a heresy. (And that’s not hyperbole).

Yet those of us who subscribe to a non-violent view, who believe unswervingly that that is the way of Christ in this world, who denounce all war as unjust have just as much a say in the kingdom.

You may believe that there are times when violence is justified but I encourage you not to turn a deaf ear to our voices.

Invariably when talk turns to non-violence, people trot out that same old tired extreme scenario, as if the extreme situation would somehow invalidate the entire belief.

It as if the burglar in our house somehow trumps the words of Christ to love our enemies, to pray for those who persecute us, to turn the other cheek. The New Testament and the words of Christ are OVERWHELMINGLY slanted toward living a peacable life.

Extreme and/or absurd analogies will not alter that.

To answer the scenario, I would probably kick, scream, bite, wedgie, choke, pummel and good ole fashion jack-slap if pushed in this regard.

But I hope to grow past that. You see, that is my gut fleshly reaction. As I grow in the way of Christ I pray that my reactions to situations will grow to reflect more and more the person of Jesus.

That it will become natural for me to love first.

That it will become natural for me to always consider the peaceful, Christ-like option.

That it will become natural for me to turn the other cheek and embrace and advocate peace.

That is the way of Christ. He responded non-violently, not passively.

To love so completely, so sacrificially is not wimpy or weak-kneed.

It is bold, daring and invites rejection.
The way so many in the church marginalize this view is proof enough of that.

But the way of Christ is counter-cultural, life-changing. Soul-tranforming.

It is the only way to rid this world of violence.

The war to end terror will never end terror. Only the love of Christ can.

Foolish, you say? That’s Jesus, for you.

Now, excuse me. I have a super-model to get off my desk.