who is bryan upton

He was born in a small town, a child of a peasant woman.
Until he was thirty years old he was a carpenter and then for three years, he was a preacher.
He wrote no books.
He held no office.
He owned no home.
He never traveled more than two hundred miles from the place that he was born and he never did any of the traditional things that accompany greatness.
The authorities condemned his teachings and he was arrested.
His friends deserted him.
One said he never knew him while another betrayed him for a small sum of money.
He was ridiculed and mocked in a trial and then he was killed in public along with two criminals.
While he was dying, his executioners gambled for the only piece of property he owned on earth; his coat.
And when he was dead, his body was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave.

Two thousand years have come and gone yet today he remains the crowning glory of the human race.
Because all the armies that have ever marched, all the navies that were ever built and all the governments that have ever existed put together haven’t even come close to impacting the life of mankind upon our planet so profoundly as this one single life.
He wrote no music, yet Handel, Beethoven, Bach, and Mendelssohn wrote hymns, symphonies, and concertos to praise him.
He painted no paintings, yet Raphael, Rembrandt, and Michelangelo spent their lives portraying his on canvases and walls that have become the world’s masterpieces; worth more than the combined wealth of entire nations.
He wrote no poetry, yet Dante, Byron, Keats, Tennyson, Tolkein and Lewis wrote flurries of linguistical torrents in an attempt to encapsulate his ideas.

If I was an eternal being that wanted the world’s worship, I might have to do something about Jesus.
If I wanted the world’s worship, I may have to murder Jesus.
If I wanted the world’s worship and I couldn’t keep Jesus dead, I might have to erase him from all of human history.
If I couldn’t completely erase him, I might have to so confuse history that people could no longer tell fact from fiction, truth from lies.
If I wanted the world’s worship, I might have to foster systems that keep people so busy and so distracted that they could never find the time to unravel it all.

On the night Jesus was betrayed, he sat in a large upper room with his disciples and he said, “The hour has come for the Son of man to be glorified. To die on a cross for the forgiveness of the sins of the world.”
He took bread and wine and he said to them, “This is my body and blood, given and shed for you. From this point forward, whenever you consume these, remember me.”
As if to say “there is something in your world that does not want you to remember me.” As if to say to his disciples, then and now, “there is something in the world that does not want us to remember the cross.”

As the Church, I have always loved that we are the rebels, the defiant, who are saying in this moment, “Oh, no, no, no devil! We ARE gonna unravel history, and we IS gonna remember Jesus!”

So go on now child, and remember…

Let’s remember that because of Jesus shame is our history, not our future.
Let’s remember that because of Jesus fear is an acquaintance, and not a companion.
Let’s remember that because of Jesus the underdog can win.
Let’s remember that because of Jesus anything and anyone can change.
Let’s remember that because of Jesus war, hunger, greed, disease, and death are temporary.
Let’s remember that because of Jesus those who mourn will be comforted and we will embrace our loved ones again.

In our economic uncertainty, let’s remember that our investment in heaven is secure and growing and real estate in the kingdom of God has never been more valuable.
Let’s remember that the house built on the rock WILL stand.
Let’s remember that although we may live in poverty, poverty will never live in us.

Let’s remember that this too shall pass.
Let’s remember that peace comes not from the absence of trouble, but the presence of hope.
And because of Jesus, hope is realistic.

In our relationships, let’s remember that love crucified can rise again.
Let’s remember that Jesus has shown us that he who forgives first, wins.
Let’s remember in the work of reconciliation that the narrow road less traveled does make all the difference.

On the mission field, let’s remember that with the faith of a mustard seed we can throw mountains into seas.
Let’s remember that Jesus has taught us that a family united will thrive and a world divided can be conquered.
Let’s remember that it doesn’t take a majority vote or adequate funding to change the world; it takes twelve ragamuffin disciples who have encountered God to set forest fires in peoples’ hearts, one opportunity at a time.

And finally, let’s remember that at the cross sincerity is known by its actions and to Jesus we are something more than our job descriptions or portfolios, something more than our trophies or rap sheets.

To Jesus we are something worth dying for and I pray that we all instead forget those things that are encumbering our stride and rise from this moment with the audacity to dream better dreams, for ourselves and those who are waiting on us to dream them.

Because you, my Church, are the light of the world.

— Jeremy Ohl

“Get Me Right” — Dashboard Confessional

I made my slow way home

limping on broken bones

out of the thickest pine

across the county lines

on to your wooden stairs

I know you can repair.

I know you’ve seen the light.

I know you’ll get me right.

I own a sinner’s heart.

I know the rain falls hard.

I know the currency.

I know the things you’ll need.

I hope he hears my prayers.

I see you cut your hair.

I know the saving type.

I know you’ll get me right.

But Jesus, I’ve fallen,

I don’t mind the rain

and if I meet my maker,

I’ll meet my maker clean.

But Jesus, the truth is,

I’ve struggled so hard to believe

I’ll meet my maker.

I need my maker

to cure me of my doubting blood,

and drain me of the sins I love,

and take from me my disbelief.

I know it should come easily.

But it remains inside of me.

It battles and devours me,

It cuddles up beside me,

and whispers and convinces me I’m right.