What happens when you wait on the past to return

I’m sure you’ve been here too, so try to guess where I am. When I walked in the room I saw a large welcoming fireplace of to my left. On one wall, there’s a set of wooden golf clubs hung next to an old accordion with yellowed keys. The are sepia colored portraits scattered around the room. Most of the memorabilia hanging on these walls are like the metal advertising signs too, they are from a generation or two ago and refer to items which are no longer manufactured or sold. I see an old crosscut saw near an old washboard, all next to old vinyl albums recorded many years ago by artists who are long gone. I really like the tin potato chip container; I can remember those from my childhood. I take all of this in before the waitress even asks for my breakfast order.

We don’t live in Mayberry, Floyd isn’t our barber, and sadly, the world isn’t like Cracker Barrel. There’s nothing wrong with watching Andy Griffith or with sitting down to eat while you’re surrounded by old Seed signs and oil cans. Nostalgia is one of the most powerful emotional experiences known to us, so beware of its appeal.

The dangers of living in the past are legion. The old days we are so fond to remember, well they probably aren’t as well polished as we tend to think. And, even though we know we can’t go back in time, you might not know that walking into some of our sanctuaries. I’m not referring to our architecture as much as our nomenclature and methods.

The Gospel is eternal, but how we deliver it and how we meet each generation isn’t. The crippling shackles of legalism constricts us into a certain form, and soon that form becomes more important than the function. The results? Well, just like in biology, that which never changes dies.

Raising an awareness of the sway the past holds over our churches can be costly. For example, I knew a preacher back in the Midwest who wanted to demonstrate to his congregation they were “stuck in their ways.” One Sunday morning, to make his point, before communion, he switched the purple Welch's grape juice to white grape juice. Before anyone in that congregation ate their fried chicken that day, the Elders let him know it was time for a change in the pulpit and sent him packing.

Part of the “problem” people had with Jesus was His style. His content made people uncomfortable, but His style and His approach raised eyebrows everywhere He went. You can’t change the message of the Cross and save the world, but you have to change your methods and your language to reach different people. Sadly, some of us holding the life-preservers missed the boat on this one.

So to be clear, we need to quit living in the past, like Eccl 7:10 says, “Say not, “Why were the former days better than these?” For it is not from wisdom that you ask this.” Also, introduce a few new songs occasionally -- music is the heart-language for many young people, i.e., the next generation. You do realize even the oldest classics like Amazing Grace were once new songs. It wouldn’t hurt to switch up your Bible translation every once in a while too, there’s a good reason we have newer translations; words change their meaning over time. The Bible is inspired, not your translation. And finally, try seeing “church” from an outsider’s perspective. If we aren’t careful and purposeful, everything we do becomes about us and can seem dated, antiquated, and out of touch -- not because Jesus will ever lose His relevance but because you don’t find good news in a time-capsule.