It was the early 1980s. By either luck of the draw or by drawing of the short straw, the Scott family met the Little family on the grounds of Southern Seminary. His name was “Slim,” and he and Dad began their weird and wonderful friendship by teaming up for intramural everything, including badminton.
I would like to note that while Dad and Franklin played, Mom and Mrs. Georgia worked…
Money was less than tight for seminary families. I’ve been told that for entertainment, one-year-old Shelynn Scott was called upon to make faces for everyone.
Franklin accrued a host of opportunities to blackmail my Dad—like the time Franklin says he saw Dad riding a bicycle across campus with me on his shoulders. Dad denies this story, but I have no idea why—it sounds completely plausible and likely to me!
The cold months in Louisville were only tolerable because of the warmth between friends.
Several years passed, and then the families reunited in Athens when Franklin came as campus minister to UGA.
Dad, Franklin, and the former pastor of Milledge Avenue Baptist, Buddy Revels, teamed up for several years in the annual BSU 3-on-3 tournaments. Before one of the games, a student told Dad to get a good look at the bottom of his shoe, that that would be what the team would see when it came raining down on top of them. It did not come to pass!
I think that Dad and Franklin had this winning combination of 3% skill, 15% not taking themselves to seriously, 2% luck, 30% height, and 50% weird, secret “no-words” language. (That adds up!)
A follow-up note: Mom and Mrs. Georgia worked at Clarke Central High School together. Did you women ever get to play?
The college years—and some of us accrued more years than others—are full of everything and the campus minister must be ready for it all! In addition to all these different life situations were students of differing cultures, financial class, political and theological persuasions. Local church congregations may have their segments, but nothing like the conglomerate church of the college campus.
Just to whom is one called when one is called to campus ministry?
To the homesick.
To the athlete.
To the academic. To the struggling student.
To the lovelorn. To the newly engaged.
To the abused and bullied.
To the bully.
To the hungry.
To the Christian. To the atheist. To the questioning.
To the future doctor, coach, missionary, teacher, biologist, writer.
If there is a ministry position that most closely echoes Moses’ time with the wandering Israelites in the wilderness, it is campus ministry.
And how, oh Lord, did your servant Franklin respond to your call? This is what I know and have seen firsthand:
The hungry student was fed. The homesick student was hugged.
The athlete was fiercely coached and then fiercely praised.
The student who was grieving the loss of a parent was comforted.
The student on academic probation was encouraged.
The naive student was tenderly offered wisdom.
The social outcast was welcomed.
The student who wrestled with God’s call was validated and supported.
The chair in Franklin’s office was available for anyone. And from that spot, Precious Lord, each child was assured of your love, your goodwill, and your sustaining grace. No one left without hope. No one left without a prayer said on his or her behalf.
And as these students entered the very real world of adulthood, that chair remained open. The divorced, the depressed, the weary pastor, the childless, the lonely—they could all return to that safe place of unconditional love for counsel and compassion.
Thank you, Franklin, for trying to keep me safe as a child. Thank you for ministering to me and loving me through my high school and college years, my engagement, seminary, marriage, and ministry. You have always been a loving constant in my life. You’ve greatly illustrated faith to me through your works and your companionship.
Thank you, oh Lord, for the mighty, sweet, sweet spirit of Franklin Slim Scott. Give him rest today, because I have a feeling that somewhere down the road he will hold the hand of another soul who needs to know of your majesty.
Thank you for Mrs. Georgia, and for her friendship with my Mom. Thank you, for teaching me algebra. Thank you for not telling my mom when I acted up at school. Thank you for ministering to your students.
Shelynn and Stacey, thank you for sharing your parents. It’s not always easy, I know. I also know that while your Dad’s heart carried all of us, he always carried both of you with him. Good dads can do that, you know.
My hope and prayer is that you know how much you all are loved. You will always be a part of my family. May the love of God and the hope of tomorrow be made known to you today. Amen.
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