ABOUT RIM - TWO ESSAYS
Jason Upton's newest release, "On the Rim of the Visible World", is a musical documentation of songs, friendship and following Jesus. What could be a better environment for such an endeavor than the living room of Jason's house? Three sessions that took place during the first quarter of 2009 resulted in 10 tracks, recorded "at home", that take you on a journey of varied musical and spiritual terrain. We then added 6 tracks, recorded "on the road", selected from live recordings over the past year. Which brings us to 16 tracks and about 72 minutes of music. And, although the music speaks for itself, Key of David Ministries wanted to turn on the lights of your imagination and invite you into the living room through written witness - two written essays. The essays are our way of setting out a chair for you - the listener - to sit in the living room and journey with Jason and the band "on the rim of the visible world".
Use the controls above to access the 2 essay pages.
grace & peace,
Alfred Sergel
It’s a cold Midwestern winter and I’m sitting in the corner of a living room built in the mid 1800’s. The room is square with a low ceiling and is full of wood beams and wood floors from trees older than the greatest of my great grandparents.
To my right is a large, stone, wood-burning fireplace. To my left is a window with a view that reminds me of a Norman Rockwell painting. The front yard is blanketed with a fresh snow yielding a stillness that only a fresh snow can yield....
With a cup of hot coffee in hand, you might think this is an ideal setting for reading or simply enjoying the snap, crackle and pop of the warm fire. And yet, it is much more, so much more.
Poised between the cold of winter and the warmth of the fire are my friends. With instruments ready and spirits attentive, we partake of a musical communion, a musical Eucharist.
We take, bless, break and give. As words become our bread and music our wine, table fellowship is continuously a realized ritual. Each moment is fragile. It is so real and so ordinary – in fact – that without the assistance of the promised Helper, the moment will allow itself to be missed, reasoned away and shrugged off because there is not a lack of glory in our midst, but a lack of perception.
The words are broken and shared between us through dialogue. We hear the story of their inception and we do our best to enter into the initial act of worship with the prayer of capturing an authentic expression. Bread must be kneaded before it rises.
Instruments as our chalices, we pour our lives in like wine with the hope of creating space for these words, creating music for these words. Grapes must be pressed to make wine.
Laughing at our weaknesses and crying in adoration of His strength, an unspoken revelation blows through the living room reminding us that He is not like us and that His ways are not like ours.
As I look around the room and catch the eyes of my friends, my brothers…the time suspends just enough for Truth to invade my soul…
Our God need no lesser cathedral.
Our homes.
Our families.
Our friends.
Our neighbors.
Our lives.
We have come to the mountain of the living God.
Right here.
Right now.
On the rim of the visible world we go…
During some of the darkest days of my life, Key of David Ministries arranged for me to fly to Wisconsin where I would lay on a couch for four days of worship therapy. I was laid out in front of a large, stone fireplace with orange coals crackling in front of me and the sounding board of Jason Upton’s piano resonating at my back. I was curled up in an afghan, my nose buried in a well-worn tome by Rabbi Heschel, and my ears warmed by the sounds of four musicians just loving God. They reminded me of the friends who tore away roofing tiles and lowered a paralytic to the Lord Jesus for a healing encounter. As the boys played and sang, they created space for Jesus to touch me—to speak tenderly to me. Numbness gave way to cleansing tears; I was granted real reprieve from anxiety and given solace for despair. I even rediscovered a long lost belly-laugh. Wives and kids would drift in with choice food and buckets of life, flooding the fireplace studio with mirth until well past my bedtime.
In those days, I experienced what theologians call “Immanence”-the nearness of God whose presence remains with us. We tasted the “withness” of Christ as a real person and living friend spending time with his kids . . . and we knew it. It was so precious and it came-rather, he came- with no requirements of hype, cajoling, or groveling on our part. Our God is not some elusive storm on the horizon to be wrangled. There is nothing aloof about our Abba that would require the neo- Baalism that attends so much of our Christian striving. It is we, not God, who are lost and need to be found. And we are being found by him. Immanence happens when we awake to the One who is perpetually knocking on the door of fellowship.
Jason’s band functions as
spiritual porters who open the door to Jesus
and call his children to wakefulness that he
has drawn near.
Similarly, at the Upton farmstead I experienced what the Jews call mitsvah. Mitsvah in Hebrew literally meant “commandment,” and then came to include the actual keeping of a commandment. Finally, mitzvah became the practice of any worthy deed. But the word is more loaded than that. It includes the idea of meeting God as he inhabits our acts of kindness. Quoth the rabbi, “The way to God is a way of God . . . a mitzvah is where God and man meet.” i.e. Immanence happens when we love with God's love, when like St Francis we kiss the leper. I believe there is a special blessing on this album, not only because talented people who love God were offering him their best in worship, although that is part of it. But there was a deeper worship involved: the Isaiah 58 mitzvah of opening one’s home to the stranger, making a bed and setting a table for the burn-out, and even offering sacred studio space as an operating room for the Great Physician. The Spirit of God is powerfully attracted to such mercy. And there, between graveyard and garden, between fireplace and piano, between four friends and a stretcher, I met Jesus afresh.
And so will you. That is my prayer and blessing. Headphones will help.
Brad Jersak
Similarly, at the Upton farmstead I experienced what the Jews call mitsvah. Mitsvah in Hebrew literally meant “commandment,” and then came to include the actual keeping of a commandment. Finally, mitzvah became the practice of any worthy deed. But the word is more loaded than that. It includes the idea of meeting God as he inhabits our acts of kindness. Quoth the rabbi, “The way to God is a way of God . . . a mitzvah is where God and man meet.” i.e. Immanence happens when we love with God's love, when like St Francis we kiss the leper. I believe there is a special blessing on this album, not only because talented people who love God were offering him their best in worship, although that is part of it. But there was a deeper worship involved: the Isaiah 58 mitzvah of opening one’s home to the stranger, making a bed and setting a table for the burn-out, and even offering sacred studio space as an operating room for the Great Physician. The Spirit of God is powerfully attracted to such mercy. And there, between graveyard and garden, between fireplace and piano, between four friends and a stretcher, I met Jesus afresh.
And so will you. That is my prayer and blessing. Headphones will help.
Brad Jersak
THE GOODLAND BAND??
The Goodland Band is, in fact, a band: a group of people who have a common interest or purpose. Some are Jason's closest friends. Some are Jason's family. Some live close by. Some live far away. It might be better understood as the "Goodland Fellowship" or the "Goodland Community", but we decided upon "The Goodland Band". Whether pastor, musician, poet, preacher, businessman, equestrian, accountant, house cleaner, barista or a child, we live our lives together - banding together - in spirit and in truth to behold the risen Son, Jesus of Nazareth, who is our Lord. In fellowship, we witness to His resurrection. In community, we center our lives around His presence: here and now. Whether near or far we journey together, in union, with Him, everlasting. Amen
