I grew up on the front row of the church. All my life, I have heard the reverberation from the pulpit and the pews alike: “We just need an old-fashioned revival.”
There is a lot of truth to the idea that we benefit by going back to our roots. That concept is biblical. In Revelation 2:4-5, the scripture warns the church at Ephesus that they have forsaken their “first love,” urging them to remember from where they have fallen and repent.1 I get that. I am fond of my own childhood memories in the prayer room at Bible camp in West Virginia.
But I have to ask a hard question. When we say we need an “old-fashioned revival,” are we actually seeking revival? Or are we just seeking something old-fashioned?
Jack and Diane
In 1982, I was a 15-year-old skinny kid with a ton of dreams and not a care in the world. I would hang out at the pool on summer days and find as much trouble as I could. That was the same year John Cougar Mellencamp released his hit, Jack & Diane.
“A little ditty ’bout Jack and Diane. Two American kids doin’ the best they can.”
I loved that song. Even today, when it comes up on my playlist, I crank the volume and sing as loud as I can. In those three minutes and forty-one seconds, I am whisked back to my youth and the carefree world of adolescence. It is a powerful emotion. But in the end, it is nothing more than nostalgia.
As I age, I find myself looking back fondly on a world that no longer exists. That world came and went and will never be again. There is a strong desire in all of us to reminisce about what used to be. It was a simpler time, and often, it involved people who are no longer with us. But we cannot live in the past. As one of my mentors always said: “The future is never in our past.”
Altars vs. Souvenirs
I think we are well-intentioned when we fondly remember the spiritual awakenings of our past. They are powerful touchpoints for our current condition.
In the Old Testament, the Israelites would build an altar (an “Ebenezer”) so they would never forget what God did in that place.2 Like Moses, they would often write a song to be sung to remember the moment. The very celebration of Passover is a 3,500-year-old tradition designed to share the visceral experience of those first days freed from Pharaoh’s grip.
But here is the distinction: Honoring the past is a potent and necessary part of the future. Living in the past is spiritual death.
The Neurology of Nostalgia
Craving nostalgia is completely different from biblical remembrance. We cannot recreate the feelings of our teen years, as powerful as they were. And let’s be honest: the reason those moments felt so electric was often due more to our underdeveloped brains and raw teenage emotions than the spiritual reality of the moment.
When we, the older generation, begin craving to sing the “old songs” and re-live our prior spiritual encounters, we are often not seeking revival as much as we are seeking a time machine. I will go so far as to say that many saints who insist we “just need to keep singing the hymns” are less interested in worshipping God and more interested in reliving a nostalgia that is long past. They want the feeling of 1982, not necessarily the Spirit of 2025.
Current Faith
Nostalgia does not have the power to save. No degree of returning to past memories will bring about transformative change in our lives today.
Salvation is based on a current and living faith. Our faith must move forward—not by reinterpreting scripture under a new cultural mandate, but through thoughtful reflection on how the scripture informs our behavior and action now.
God introduces Himself as “I AM,” not “I WAS.”3 We cannot survive on the manna of yesterday’s memories. We need fresh bread for today.