Mike Erre

Death By Church

Mike Erre — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 14:23:00 -0800

I have a new book out called Death By Church. I am a bit embarrassed to do this, but it got a great review in Publishers Weekly and I was so excited that I had to share it! Please forgive me :)

Death by Church: Rescuing Jesus from HisFollowers, Recapturing God’s Hope for His People Michael Erre. HarvestHouse, $13.99 paper (250p) ISBN 978-0-7369-2496-2

Entertainment-oriented. Hypocritical. Idolatrous. Consumerist. A mess. These are only some of the terms Erre uses to describe the plight of the church incontemporary American culture. A teaching pastor at Rock Harbor Church in Costa Mesa, Calif., and author of The Jesus of Suburbia, Erre delves into the Bible and church history to make the case that the church needs to recover its communal, subversive, confrontational, countercultural truth-telling mission of incarnating “the upside-down way of the kingdom of God.” Drawing on the writings of scholars in and outside of the evangelical tradition, the writer takes a fresh and compelling look at how a kingdom-focused community would approach such Christian fundamentals as mission, worship, evangelism, the Eucharist and apologetics. A culturally marginalized church, he argues, can still be a place of hope, engaging theworld and pointing to God’s rule. While ceding no ground on traditional Christian doctrine, this thought-provoking book is a powerful bill of indictment and an inspirational template for church reformation that may resonate with believers and nonbelievers alike. A too brief postscript offers suggestions for clergy who want to create the “kingdom-focused” church in their own congregations. (Jan.)

S to the eth

Mike Erre — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 14:10:18 -0800

He's here! Seth Erre (or, as my daughter calls him sef-e-sef) arrived the day after Christmas. We delivered at UCI Medical Center and Seth ended up staying a week in their NICU. Mom's C-section went well as did surgery to correct Seth's intestines. He and momma are home now and we are adjusting to life with 3 kids.

I have been learning a lot. He has Down Syndrome. Despite our prayers, God saw fit to give him to us in this way. I have learned that 92% of the people who receive the diagnosis we did, when we did, choose to "terminate" their pregnancy. Over the last 10 years, the numbers of Down Syndrome births has plummeted dramatically as technology has increased to the point where genetic disorders can be diagnosed earlier in the pregnancy.

To be honest, I can't believe anyone would turn one of these little ones down. Seth is amazing and God has given us the grace to be completely joyful that he is here. It is so much easier for me to deal with him face to face, rather than just working through the implications of some abstract diagnosis. God has been faithful to answer our prayers: a short hospital stay, red hair (my wife asked for this so he would look like our other two kids), no complications from surgery, and no sign of the many long term health complications that often accompany this disorder.

But, most importantly, when we look at him now, we don't see down syndrome, we see Seth. And that is all I could have hoped for. No doubt there are many dark days ahead, and much more to grieve; but today is not one of those days.

Thank you to the many of you who have commented, prayed, and joined us in the journey...

Theology of Grief III

Mike Erre — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 20:10:07 -0800

I am incredibly blessed by your comments. Thank you very much for your wisdom and concern.

The author of Ecclesiastes writes, "It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart " (7:2). Two verses later, he says something similar: "The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure."

Most of us believe this to be true (at least in an abstract sort of way). At funerals, people are often more open to thinking of significant issues and eternal things. Gravesides, nursing homes and hospitals confront us with questions regarding the ultimate meaning and purpose of human life. Certainly, this has to be part of what the writer of Ecclesiastes means. It seems obvious that when we consider the end of our lives it (should) effect how we live today. But I have wondered if there isn't more to it than this.

Is there something else about mourning that contributes to wisdom? Does it go beyond simply forcing us to "live in light of eternity?"

What do you think? I would love to hear your thoughts?

Mike

FREE Chapter of "Death by Church"

Mike Erre — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 14:38:03 -0800

Attached is a pdf chapter of my newest book "Death by Church." I hope you enjoy it. Blessings.

Mike

The Dangerous Alternative to Christmas

Mike Erre — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 09:14:49 -0800

In the gospel of Luke, the most familiar account of the Christmas story—the one most commonly read in churches and homes—is firmly rooted in history. The narrative begins, “In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken” (Luke 2:1). Luke’s mention of Augustus isn’t incidental or minor. It sets the whole backdrop for the Christmas story.

Augustus was known as the “Savior” of the Roman Empire, bringing “peace” and “salvation” to his subjects. He was called the “Lord” and came to be worshiped as god on earth. Roman citizens were commanded to pray to him and offer sacrifices. Temples and shrines were built in his name. The census ordered by Augustus was one of the ways he controlled the empire. By demanding taxes (or tribute, more specifically), Caesar could provide for his far-flung armies as well as humiliate the peoples under Roman “peace” by reminding them they lived at the will of Rome.

Against this political backdrop, the announcement in Luke’s gospel is the announcement of a king born in direct opposition to the rule and reign of Caesar. It is almost as if all the titles applied to Caesar were applied to Jesus in order to force people to choose between them. If Jesus had been called one thing and Caesar another, people would have been tempted to believe they could worship both. But when Savior, Lord, King, gospel, peace and salvation are specific descriptions applied to both rulers, the Christmas story forces us to choose: Who is our Lord? Who is our Savior?

The differences between these two saviors could not be overstated. Augustus’s rule was defined by the sword, the shield, and the banners of his legions. The kingdom of Jesus of Nazareth was marked by a manger, a cross, and a tomb. No greater contrast could be imagined. The birth of Jesus Christ was simply revolution: the birth of a different king, ushering in a differing kingdom, and threatening the kingdoms of this world.

Two different empires were established on the day of Jesus’s birth. One built on power, the other on love. One built on control, the other on freedom. One built on oppression and bondage, the other on liberation. Augustus was the embodiment of the best the world in all its ambition and lust can offer, a ruler who sat at the apex of a world-wide system of worship and domination. Jesus, on the other hand, was destined to humble himself on a tree, sacrificing himself out of love.

Jesus represents the dangerous alternative to the power of this world: a different power, a different glory, a different peace, a different salvation. The Christmas story ceases to be an idyllic myth: it becomes clear these two empires are destined to collide. The birth of Jesus is divine insurrection and outright revolution.

The Christmas story forces us to choose between these two kingdoms. Do we bow before the Caesars of our time, or dare we embrace the kingdom of Jesus?

From The Jesus of Suburbia by Mike Erre (W Publishing Group)

Check out this link...

Mike Erre — Tue, 09 Dec 2008 21:42:36 -0800

This is a stunning visual display of what Americans consume...seems appropriate in light of the 475 billion dollars we'll spend between Thanksgiving and Christmas...

http://www.chrisjordan.com/current_set2.php

Theology of Grief II

Mike Erre — Mon, 08 Dec 2008 16:28:12 -0800

Thanks to those of you who have commented - I appreciate your responses. I know it sounds obvious, but I want to start by simply noting that grief is an appropriate response to much of life in a fallen world. I feel compelled to start here because there seems to be an undercurrent in the Christian community that real grief - the kind that isn't to be expressed in polite company - is somehow a demonstration of a lack of faith in God's goodness or his purposes. I received an email recently that began, "There are worse things than having a downs syndrome baby...." And yep, they're right. But dang, do you lead off by telling a woman who's been raped that there are worse things that could have happened? Or by telling a cancer patient that at least they don't have heart disease? Why lead with that? Especially when this person has two perfectly healthy children...

I shared the news of our baby boy with our church two weeks after my wife and I found out. I chose to share it with them so soon for several reasons. The primary one was that I was still upset/disappointed and hurting. I didn't want to wait until this story became a story with a happy ending (though I have no doubt it will) b/c those seem to be the only stories we tell in churches...I wanted to let people in to our not-quite-yet worked out processing of this.

I don't know if that was a good move or not; but among the many different kinds of responses I received one stood out. There were people in our church who were upset with me for being upset about this. I was shocked. I'm not sure what these folks were thinking, but the assumption seemed to be that my grief was somehow an indictment of the hope and power of the gospel. To that I say, "rubbish!" Grief can often be an expression of faith. Don't these people read the Psalms? Lamentations? Jeremiah? Jesus himself wept over the reality of death and suffering. The writer of Ecclesiastes observes, "...there is a time to weep and a time to laugh..."(3:4) and Paul, in 1 Thes. 4:13 writes, "Brothers, we do not want you to...grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope."

Much more could be said, but I contend that grief is often the only appropriate response by the people of God. After all, doesn't grieving presuppose the idea that things should be different? That somehow, women shouldn't be raped and disease shouldn't rob us of those we love and that babies shouldn't be born with defects. Grief, then, is often proof of faith. As we pour out our longing for things to be different we are led again and again back to the man from Nazareth who promised that one day, things would be put right.

A Theology of Grief

Mike Erre — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 17:49:09 -0800

My wife and I have two children. Nathan is five and Hannah is three. We have a third child, Seth, who is due later this month. On September 18th we learned that Seth has Down Syndrome. We knew the odds for Downs increase a couple grows older, but we were not at all ready for this diagnosis.

We had already been dealing with some developmental issues with one of our other kids, and so we were especially hurt/grieved/angry/disappointed on hearing this news. For the last couple of months (and the last couple of years, really), I have been thinking about what it means to grieve and how little we in the American church know how to comfort those who are grieving.

As a pastor, part of my role is to (try to) bring comfort and hope to those who are troubled. But having lived a bit as one who needs comforted, I have a little different perspective. Over the next couple of months or so, I would like to engage this topic a bit and I would love to hear your thoughts and stories...to be continued....

Thanksgiving as a way of life

Mike Erre — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 14:57:55 -0800

Adam and Eve had it good! Living together (naked, no less!), in perfect union with each other and God in a garden whose name meant “delight.” No guilt, no shame, no grief, and no death.

There was only one restriction: don’t eat of the fruit of a specific tree. In a garden full of “yeses’ there was only one ‘no.’ Of course, we know how the story goes. The tempter comes and his first move is to direct their attention to the one thing they couldn’t have. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Human nature hasn’t changed much since then. We can have a life full of blessing, but our temptation will still be to focus on what we don’t have or can’t do. Why is it that ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ are two of the hardest words to teach our kids?

Our world helps to foster this sense of entitlement. A nice house, good health, great vacations and living beyond our means have become fundamental American rights. Delayed gratification has gone missing from the cultural landscape. Contentment and simplicity are merely nostalgic remnants of a by-gone era. Hundreds of commercial images a day are designed to cultivate a dissatisfaction with what we have and to focus our attention to what we lack. These days, it seems the tempter has a marketing plan.

Why is it that the day after our national celebration of “thanksgiving” – the day we are supposedly grateful for what we have – is the biggest shopping day of the year? Are we missing something?

So maybe thanksgiving shouldn’t be a holiday. Maybe it should become a way of life where we begin to orient ourselves around what we have and not what we’re missing. Maybe the key to resisting temptation is cultivating that kind of heart.

Do You Think I'm Handsome?

Mike Erre — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 17:18:25 -0700

Please don't answer (unless the answer is yes)...I'm just testing this sucker to see if it works....