Last Sunday I was invited to be the guest preacher for the 70th anniversary of my home church in northwest Pennsylvania. The Conneautville Church of Christ started when I was in the 8th grade. We began meeting in a house on the main street of town with only 35 people. Not many charter members are left, so I was invited to share some memories with the congregation, which now numbers about 150 people. That’s a good number for a town with a population of less than a thousand.

It was encouraging to see the church thriving under the ministry of Rich Jones, who has been their pastor for over twenty years. It’s now a faithful, joyful congregation and it has sent nearly 30 of its youth to Bible Colleges and Christian service around the world.

Around 200 attended the homecoming service, which included dinner on the grounds afterward. I got reacquainted with several folks I hadn’t seen in a long time. Some of them had changed so much they didn’t recognize me! But it was gratifying to see the church doing so well.

Since my wife and I arrived a day early, I decided to revisit some of my favorite places from childhood and reminisce about “the good ol’ days.” I drove down a side road to show Judy where I played Babe Ruth League baseball (and brag about making the all-star team) – but the ball field is now a cemetery! My old high school, where our basketball team was crowned Crawford County champs, is now a middle school.

Then when I drove up to the house where I grew up, my heart sank because it was really neglected. It looked pitiful! The back yard where I shot basketball, played whiffle ball and learned to kick extra points was cluttered with junk and looked trashy. Then later at church, when I saw my high school girlfriend, who is still a faithful member of the congregation, I was saddened to learn she had recently experienced a stroke… and she was 83 years old – like me!

While it was good to go back home for the first time in two decades, in many ways it was a melancholy experience. Some things had changed a lot. Some people had aged a lot. I thought I’d be really important in Conneautville, but most of my high school friends had died or moved out of town. And the church people under 65 didn’t remember me… and, to be honest, the teenagers probably didn’t much care who I was.

I kept thinking of two verses of Scripture: In Matthew 24:35, Jesus stated, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.” And 1 John 2:17 reads, “The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever.”

When we try to go back and reclaim the glory of the past, it’s often a disappointing experience. The world is eroding away. We’re not as important as we thought, and the good ol’ days can’t be repeated. The editor of a national magazine received a critical letter that read, “Your magazine isn’t as good as it used to be.” The editor responded tersely, “It never was!” What we remember about the past is usually embellished somewhat and greatly exaggerated. Someone gave me a T-shirt that reads, “The older I get the better I was!”

It can be discouraging to go back home… unless we remember this world is not our home! Philippians 3:20 reminds us, “…our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ.” As Christ-followers, we shouldn’t even attempt to recapture the glory of the past. We’re anticipating a glorious future—a new home in eternity—a place that can never perish, spoil or fade, kept in heaven for us. (1 Peter 1:4) The best is yet to be!

While there’s a sense in which we can’t go home again, we can and will go to our eternal home one day. And our heavenly Father promises that won’t be a disappointment.

The earth shall soon dissolve like snow,
the sun forbear to shine;
but God, who called me here below,
will be forever mine.

— John Newton, “Amazing Grace” (1779)