Introduction

This is the word of the Lord,
Proverbs 16:31 ESV
31 Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life.

Let us pray. There’s a reason why, after preaching on the children of the church, I’m skipping right over the youth and middle-years, and turning our attention now to the older saints in our midst. It’s not an accident. It’s not an oversight. It’s intentional. I’m jumping over the twenty-somethings, the thirty-somethings, the forty-somethings — and I’m doing it on purpose because part of me wants to make a statement. A statement against the inflated self-importance that so often defines the younger generation, the idea that they’re the movers and shakers, the ones God is really going to use, and everyone else is just background noise. We live in a time where many think the world is in the palm of their hands. That the kingdom of God is waiting for them to finally wake up and launch something. Meanwhile, the children are seen as too small to count, and the older saints, well, you’re often treated like you’ve missed your chance.You’re too late. You’re past your prime. And tragically, many, including some of you have started to believe that. Some of you here today, above the age of 50 or 55, quietly think the good years are behind you. You look back with more hope than you look forward. You feel like you came too late to the party — like God did most of His work without you.

But I’m here to tell you, in this one sermon that is directed entirely at you older saints of Christ, that is a lie straight from the pits of hell. So, I am not here today to preach to the so-called rising stars of the church. I didn’t come to pleasure the ears of the young, restless, and reformed. I came to speak to you who are past your prime, to the men and women who are still here, still breathing, still believing. This sermon is for you. And it is a summons, an invitation to run like you’ve never run before, and fight like you’ve never fought before. And if you’re rolling your eyes or any part of you feels like I should let this subject rest, you have another thing coming. My desire to please you is as small as my desire to please God is great. Older saints, you are not done, and you have more to give than you know. So pay attention as I exhort you this day.

Life as a race & fight

2 Timothy 4:6–8 ESV
6 For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come.
7 I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.
8 Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing.

A good part of becoming a senior citizen is the realisation that the road ahead of you is shorter than the road behind you. Your time for departure may not have come yet, but if God were to give us all full lives, then you are closer to that day than the rest of us. And by God’s good graces I would not have any of you limp lazily across that threshold. We will speak more of death in a bit, but here we have the Apostle Paul on his last lap. It is expected that he would have been in his sixties, probably as old or younger than some here. But his year of labour have not been in the comforts of an air conditioned home. The years would have worn on him far more than you can imagine. At sixty, he would have probably look a good 15 years older than that. And near at the end of the finish line, he looks back and then forward, and describes for us what he sees.

• Looking back –

2 Timothy 4:7 ESV
7 I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

He gives us two metaphors here on how to see life. Life is a race, and life is a fight. What does that teach us?

i. It teaches us that life has no pause button.
Life is happening to you at this very moment. Every second you gain is every second you’ve lost. There are no rewinds. The clock never stops ticking. You don’t stop to tie your shoelace in the middle of a race. You don’t call a timeout to catch your breath halfway through the final lap. You don’t ask your opponent to wait a moment while you sip your coffee and gather yourself before his next blow. A race demands endurance. A fight demands vigilance. And life — real, godly life — demands both. The Christian life is not for coasters. It’s not for the spiritually drowsy. You are either running or falling behind. You are either fighting or being beaten. And the moment you stop pressing forward, you start drifting backward. There is no neutral gear in the life of faith.

ii. It teaches us that we have an intentional and active role to play here.

Races are not for spectators, and fights are not for bystanders. Runners belong on the track. Fighters belong in the ring. And Christians — real, blood-bought, cross-carrying Christians — are the ones who truly belong on this earth. The world is not our enemy’s to inherit. It’s not the playground of the wicked. It belongs to Christ — and in Him, it belongs to us. This world is not a waiting room for heaven — it’s a battleground for the faithful. It’s the arena where we run, where we fight, where we endure, and where we leave behind a legacy of godliness for those coming after us. So if you are in Christ, don’t act like a guest here. You’re not a tourist in enemy territory. You are a co-heir with the King of kings — and the ground beneath your feet is your mission field, your inheritance, and your finish line. “Run well. Fight hard.”, the Apostle Paul exhorts us.

iii. It teaches us that there is only one treasure of true value to carry to the end — faith.

The race didn’t wear his faith out. The fight didn’t beat his faith down. The pressures, the persecutions, the shipwrecks, the stonings, the betrayal, the imprisonment — none of it could pry faith from his grip. Why? Because faith is not the thing you let go of when the race gets hard. It’s the one thing you hold on to harder. Paul didn’t limp into the finish line complaining about how hard it had been — he crossed it with the treasure of faith still intact. Battle-worn, but still burning. And that’s the point. This race, this fight, this life — it is not about comfort, applause, or ease. It is about keeping the faith.

1 Peter 1:6–7 ESV
6 In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials,
7 so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

You can lose your money. You can lose your health. You can lose your strength, your memory, your reputation, your possessions — but if you keep your faith, you’ve kept everything that matters. Older saints — as the race winds down, as the fight grows more weary, let this be your prayer: “Lord, let me keep the faith.” And not a dry, abstract faith. But a living, clinging, Scripture-soaked, Christ-treasuring faith. The kind that believes when it hurts, obeys when it’s costly, and worships when it bleeds. That’s the faith that finishes well. That’s the faith Paul kept. And that’s the faith you must keep — all the way home.

• Looking forward –

2 Timothy 4:8 ESV
8 Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing.

It is the crown of righteousness. Not the crown of successful church growth strategies. Not the crown of multiplying your finances. Not the crown of a picture-perfect family or a well-curated Christian image. Not the crown of “most inspirational older saint,” or “top performer in the church.” Not even the crown of being first across the finish line or the toughest fighter in the ring. It is the crown of righteousness — the reward given not to the fast or the flashy, but to the faithful. It is placed on the head not of the best, but of the righteous — those who longed for Christ, trusted in Christ, obeyed Christ, and were clothed in His righteousness. The crown Paul speaks of is not a metaphor for earthly victory — it is the sign of divine pleasure, handed to the runner who ran with his eyes fixed on Jesus. The fighter who did not love his life even unto death. The Christian who lived for a kingdom you can’t see and a King you can’t vote for. That’s the crown I want for you. Older saints, that’s the reward I long to see placed on your heads — not because of your reputation, your years, or your memories, but because you loved His appearing. You lived your final years leaning forward, longing for the King. “Be faithful unto death,” Jesus says in Revelation 2:10, “and I will give you the crown of life.” So run for that crown! Fight for that crown! Finish for that crown! The older generation must recognise that there is much expected of them in Scripture.

Living up to the expectations

It is a true and worthy statement that Jesus receives you as you are.

You don’t need to clean yourself up, polish your image, or bring Him a resume full of religious accomplishments.

You don’t need a polished testimony or a theological pedigree.

The only thing you need is need.

It does not matter how deep the stains of your past may run, how public your failures have been, or how long you’ve walked in rebellion. “Whoever comes to Me,” Jesus said, “I will never cast out” (John 6:37).

It is a true and worthy statement that Jesus receives you as you are.

But it is a false and worthless lie that Jesus receives you as you are because you are so precious and immaculate that He sees no need to change a thing.

Like He looked down from heaven and thought, “Well, there’s nothing to improve here.

A good doctor doesn’t welcome a man with cancer because he’s impressed with the tumor.

He doesn’t call in the interns to admire how far the disease has spread.

He receives the patient to cut it out.

Taking your soul to Jesus and expecting no change is like pushing your car into a mechanic’s shop with your engine on fire and saying, “Don’t touch it, just tell me how brave I am.”

No, he opens the hood to fix it, not to affirm your journey.

It’s like walking into a math class after failing every test and expecting the teacher to pass you because you “felt authentic” about the way you wrote the exam.

A good teacher doesn’t hand out certificates for sincerity — he trains, tests, and corrects until you learn.

Brothers, sisters, it is grace (undeserved favour) that receives the dirty undeserving sinner into the palace of glory.

The grace of Christ is magnified when the depravity of our sins are fully realised. He receives us as we are in order to change us, not keep us as we are.

Jesus did not save you to keep you as you are, but to change you into a new creation.

Grace is not a pat on the head. Grace is a wrecking ball. It tears down the house of sin and builds a temple of holiness in its place.

The very first effect of grace — real grace, not the soft-serve stuff you get at McDonalds that feels a lot more like the gospel peddled by most evangelical churches these days, but real grace — is death.

Death to sin. Death to self. Death to every ounce of that old man who loved the darkness.

Paul doesn’t mince words in Romans 6: “How can we who died to sin still live in it?” And again in Galatians 5: “Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.”

The cross is not a charm you wear, it’s a place where things go to die. And if you belong to Jesus, then you pick up you cross and follow him daily. To what end? To death.

That in dying, you might be made new.

That means the Gospel has plenty of expectations of you, and you were meant to live up to those expectations.

Now, here’s where I want to speak plainly, and if your feelings bruise easily, I’d recommend putting on your spiritual armor right about now.

Modern Christianity, the one in which most of you grew up in, is a marshmallow.

It’s a sentimental puddle.

It produces men and women who want to be hugged by God but never commanded by Him.

We have a generation of believers who confuse emotional experiences for holiness.

They have no expectations of themselves — no discipline, no grit, no sacrifice, no pursuit of godliness.

But they do have expectations of God, that He bless them, coddle them, soothe them, and never interfere with their self-esteem.

They want God’s grace like a warm bath — something to soak in, not something to transform them.

But the words of Scripture speaks something entirely different.

1 Timothy 4:7 ESV

7 Have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths. Rather train yourself for godliness;

2 Peter 1:5 ESV

5 For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge,

Philippians 2:12 ESV

12 Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling,

Christians, the bible has expectations of you.

Older Christians, the expectations on your life are not lower because you’ve aged. They are higher.

God doesn’t lower the bar for older believers He raises it.

Titus 2:2–5 ESV

2 Older men are to be sober-minded, dignified, self-controlled, sound in faith, in love, and in steadfastness.

3 Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good,

4 and so train the young women to love their husbands and children,

5 to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled.

Your age is not your exemption, it is the high degree of your inclusion.

Gray hair in the Bible is not a symbol of retirement, it’s a badge of wisdom, and God expects you to wear it well.

Proverbs 16:31 ESV

31 Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life.

Deuteronomy 32:7 ESV

7 Remember the days of old; consider the years of many generations; ask your father, and he will show you, your elders, and they will tell you.

Psalm 92:14 ESV

14 They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green,

Job 12:12 ESV

12 Wisdom is with the aged, and understanding in length of days.

And none of this happens automatically. They’re the outcome of those who are intentional.

There are many old fools in this world because sin has robbed the old of their wisdom.

But Scripture here tells us how things ought to be more than how things are.

There is a reason why this church was planted under the preaching and leadership of a 25 year old and a 19 year old.

It may be a testimony of the faithfulness of some in their generation, but it is also a testimony of the faithlessness of many in the older generation.

Older saints, if your generation were faithful, your children ought not to be planting churches for you to attend. They should be growing in the churches you planted.

But it is what God ordained in his wisdom.

And yes, I know some of you feel like you came too late to the party.

That you didn’t get serious about your faith until the latter half of life. And you feel you’ve lost precious time.

That if you could go back, you would do things a lot differently.

Stop it! Stop this useless glancing over your shoulder in regret!

Don’t you know the God whom you serve? Are you of so little faith that you do not see that grace doesn’t care what time you showed up.

It cares what you do now.

Older saints in this church, let me appeal to you all as my own fathers and mothers, and with the urgency of a watchman who sees the days slipping by.

Hear your son’s plea!

I will gladly be your pastor and pour out my life in service to you. I will preach, I will teach, I will visit, I will pray. I will love you, protect you, and shepherd you until my own hair turns grey.

But for the love of Christ, stop brooding over the past, and stop wasting the time God has given you now.

Yes, you may have wasted years.

Yes, you may have wandered.

Yes, you may have been idle.

But you are still here. You are still breathing. And as long as there is breath in your lungs, there is work to do, and grace to do it.

You say, “Oh, I never studied the Bible when I was younger!” Then open it now. You’ve got more time and fewer distractions, redeem it.

You say, “But I can’t memorize Scripture at this age. I’m too old!

Nonsense. You remember your Wi-Fi password. You remember your wedding anniversary. You remember which drawer the good coffee mugs are in.

You’re not too old to remember God’s Word — you’re just too used to excusing yourself.

If you can remember that the paste goes on the brush and not under it, then you can remember “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

You can remember “There is therefore now no condemnation.”

You can remember “To live is Christ, and to die is gain.”

Don’t tell me your memory’s too weak for Scripture when it’s still strong enough to hold on to bitterness, regrets, and sports scores.

If the world can stick to your mind, then so can the Word.

Beloved saints , rise up! God is not finished with you. And neither is this church.

We need your prayers, your wisdom, your presence, your discipline, and your joy in the Lord.

We don’t just want you in the pew — we need you in the trenches.

The years the locusts have eaten can be redeemed, but only for those who press on to the glory of God.

And make no mistake — heaven is watching. The kingdom of Christ stands witness, not to what you did in your thirties, but to what you’re doing right now with the breath still in your lungs.

You were saved by grace. Yes and amen. But that grace expects something from you.

It expects you to stand up, straighten your spine, and press on in the name of Jesus.

You are not finished. You are not retired from the kingdom. And you are not too old to live like a soldier of Christ.

———

Therefore, it must not be strange to find wisdom amongst older folk, and it often is.

It must not be strange to find knowledge, understanding, courage, well-seasoned marriages, and great godly examples among the elderly, and yet it is.

Over the last decade of our church’s existence, many have been anxious about the young leadership of this church.

But let me reassure you that has not been the case because of a lack of trying on the part of the leadership.

I can think of three major reasons that keep people from meeting these expectations.

a. Regret

Some of you hear all this and you say, “But what about all the years I’ve already lost? What about the decades I spent chasing the wind? What about the time I wasted in sin, in apathy, in worldliness, in fear, in comfort?

You look back over your shoulder and all you can see are fields devoured by locusts — spiritual barrenness, squandered opportunities, prayers never prayed, Scripture never read, service never offered, children never discipled, church never prioritized. And the weight of it tempts you to believe it’s simply too late.

But I’ve come to tell you that you serve a Redeemer, not just of souls, but of time.

Joel 2:25 NASB95

“Then I will make up to you for the years

That the swarming locust has eaten,

The creeping locust, the stripping locust and the gnawing locust,

My great army which I sent among you.

That promise is covenant mercy. God restores what you thought was lost.

The locusts of rebellion?

The locusts of addiction?

The locusts of laziness, fear, legalism, or spiritual ignorance?

He knows them all. And He restores all the years they have eaten.

He may not give you back the time numerically, but He will make the time you have now bear fruit beyond what the years of waste ever could destroy.

He can make your latter days more fruitful than all your former ones combined.

Look at Moses. Look at Caleb. Look at Anna. Old, widowed, overlooked — but always worshiping, and she was among the first to see Christ.

So don’t insult the power of God by saying it’s too late.

You may have crawled into the kingdom with baggage on your back, but that’s fine — the only thing God requires is that you don’t stay there. You get up. You follow Christ. You obey now.

“Forget what lies behind,” Paul says in Philippians 3:13–14

Philippians 3:13–14 NASB95

Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead,

I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

You’re not too late — but you can be too passive.

You’re not too far gone — but you can stay where you are and die with regrets.

Don’t let the locusts have any more.

Let today be the day that the Redeemer of time begins restoring your years — one day of obedience, one prayer, one conversation, one step at a time.

Joel 2:26 NASB95

“You will have plenty to eat and be satisfied

And praise the name of the Lord your God,

Who has dealt wondrously with you;

Then My people will never be put to shame.

And that is a promise.

So get up, older saint. There’s ground to take, and time yet to redeem.

b. Laziness

Some of you are not hindered by regret — you’re hindered by sloth.

You’re not haunted by the past so much that you’re just too tired to fight in the present. You’ve mistaken slowing down for nearly shutting down.

But brothers, the Bible never once calls old age an excuse for idleness.

Proverbs 20:4 NASB95

The sluggard does not plow after the autumn,

So he begs during the harvest and has nothing.

Proverbs 21:25 NASB95

The desire of the sluggard puts him to death,

For his hands refuse to work;

Do you know what’s sadder than a young man wasting his strength?

An old man wasting his wisdom.

Some of you say, “Well, I’ve done my time. I’ve served in the past. Let the younger ones take over now.

But don’t you dare say that while you’re still breathing and still bearing the name of Christ.

Don’t bury your spiritual gifts while you wait for someone to carry your coffin.

Psalm 92:14 NASB95

They will still yield fruit in old age;

They shall be full of sap and very green,

That’s not describing someone who’s parked in a recliner with spiritual cruise control on.

That’s a picture of a saint who knows that fruitfulness doesn’t retire.

Let me be blunt, laziness in your later years is not wisdom, it’s sin. Jesus has never and will never look at you and go, it’s time to slow down and relax spiritually.

Slowing down physically is natural. Slowing down spiritually is rebellion.

Older saints, you don’t get a pass.

You don’t get to clock out of the kingdom.

You don’t get to spend your twilight years building sandcastles with your grandchildren at the cost of building them and the church to the mature stature of Christ.

Don’t let comfort kill your calling.

Don’t let convenience become your gospel.

You may not have the energy to run a marathon — but you still have strength to pray, to counsel, to encourage, to model, to open your Bible, to open your home, and to finish the race.

Galatians 6:9 NASB95

Let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due time we will reap if we do not grow weary.

c. Pride

And then there’s pride.

Some of you aren’t disengaged because you feel inadequate, you’re disengaged because you think you’ve already arrived.

Being a Christian for a long time doesn’t mean you’ve grown deep, it might just mean you’ve grown accustomed to being shallow.

You’ve seen things, yes. You’ve been through trials, yes. You’ve lived long — but have you lived well?

There is a kind of pride that sneaks in through old age, a pride that refuses correction, resents accountability, and scoffs at the idea that someone younger might teach you something.

That’s not maturity, that’s arrogance with a walking stick.

[Thankful to the older saints in this church for their humble commitment – I understand]

Solomon warns us in Ecclesiastes 4:13

Ecclesiastes 4:13 NASB95

A poor yet wise lad is better than an old and foolish king who no longer knows how to receive instruction.

A teachable spirit is what makes one wise. Not power or authority.

Jesus said, “Unless you become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Not unless you become like a scholar. Not unless you become like a leader. Like a child — humble, hungry, and happy to be taught.

Pride says, “I don’t need to grow anymore.”

But the Spirit says, “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”Romans 12:2

Pride says, “I’ve earned my say.”

But Scripture says, “Let another praise you, and not your own mouth.”Proverbs 27:2

Pride says, “They should come to me.”

But humility says, “What can I still do for Christ?”

———

So, older saint, don’t let pride harden your heart. Don’t let your age be a wall that keeps others out and keeps you from pressing in.

The church doesn’t need grumpy old experts — it needs wise, humble guides.

James 4:6 NASB95

But He gives a greater grace. Therefore it says, “God is opposed to the proud, but gives grace to the humble.”

You don’t age out of repentance. You don’t graduate from sanctification. And you are never too seasoned to be corrected by the Word of God.

None of us can take this life for granted. None of us is guaranteed another year, another month, another heartbeat. The days are not promised — they are gifted.

Psalm 90:12 NASB95

So teach us to number our days,

That we may present to You a heart of wisdom.

Wisdom, therefore, lives in the man who knows he will die.

“Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow,” David wrote in Psalm 144:4.

James echoes it in the New Testament: “You are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes” (James 4:14).

Peter says, “All flesh is like grass…” (1 Peter 1:24), and Job cries out, “My days are swifter than a runner” (Job 9:25).

The point is this – You do not have time to waste.

And if you are older — if you are in your sixties, seventies, eighties — that reality ought to be even clearer to you.

The road ahead of you is shorter than the road behind you.

And that is not something to mourn — it’s something to prepare for with holy expectation.

This year, I turn 35.

And if the Lord gives me the length of days He gave my grandfather — I’m nearing the halfway mark.

I already look back and think, “I wish I’d done things differently. I wish I’d walked more closely, spoken more wisely, prayed more fervently.

And if I — with whatever years I have — can feel that kind of holy regret, then I can only imagine what some of you, in your later years, must carry in your memory.

But this I know, regret is not the end of the story for the Christian.

Repentance is. Restoration is. And then, with grace in your heart and fire in your bones, you run.

“Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,” Hebrews 12:1 says.

Not stroll. Not walk lazily. Run. Even if you’re limping. Even if it’s slow. Even if it’s hard.

Older saints, this is not the time to sit down on the bench.

This is not the time to drift off and wait for heaven to come collect you.

This is the time to run harder than you’ve ever run before.

You say, “Why? Why run now? Why not just wait?”

Because there are people behind you watching.

There are younger saints in this church who are not looking to YouTube or podcasts or books for models — they are looking at you. At your life. At your faith. At your joy. At your perseverance.

They are wondering if this gospel will carry them through the last decades of their lives. And they are watching to see if it is carrying you.

So don’t coast. Don’t limp into the finish line.

Run in such a way that your children in the faith want to follow you all the way to the gates of glory. Live in such a way that your death becomes your final sermon.

And beloved — as your pastor, it is the great desire of my heart to walk with you all the way to the end of that road.

To preach to you.

To weep with you.

To hold your hand if God grants it.

And when the day comes, to see you cross over the veil with joy — with a face radiant from a life poured out for Christ.

And I want you to know — when my time comes, when I must face death, I want to do so with the joy and eager expectation of seeing you again.

Not for a moment. Not for a memory. But for eternity.

In the presence of our King.

That is why this matters. That is why these final laps count.

Not just for you, but for the legacy you leave behind.

For the faith of the next generation.

For the glory of Jesus, who is worthy of older saints running hard until they collapse into His arms.

So older saints — the road behind you may be long. But the road ahead, though short, can blaze brighter than anything you’ve ever walked.

Proverbs 4:18 NASB95

But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn,

That shines brighter and brighter until the full day.

Run into that sunrise.

Finish well.

And no, you’re not starting from scratch.

The wisdom of the years

There is a certain kind of wisdom that ought to be found in older saints.

And sometimes it is. But tragically, sometimes it isn’t.

It must not be strange to find understanding, clarity, discernment, strength of character, well-seasoned marriages, and godly perspective among those who have walked many decades on this earth.

But too often, it is strange. And we have to ask why.

Experience is not the same as wisdom.

You can live through a thousand situations and still come away a fool.

Age does not automatically make you wise — age simply gives you more material.

What you do with that material is the difference between a sage and a cynic.

Scripture is clear that true wisdom is rooted not in how much you’ve seen, but in how much you fear the Lord.

Proverbs 9:10 NASB95

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,

And the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.

Psalm 119:98 NASB95

Your commandments make me wiser than my enemies,

For they are ever mine.

You don’t become wise just by getting older.

You become wise by getting lower — humbling yourself before the Word of God and building your life upon it.

Wisdom doesn’t come from surviving — it comes from submitting.

But here’s the beauty of it, older saints.

When you, seasoned by life, does go deeper into Scripture, the years become an ally — not a hindrance.

Because then, your experiences — the joys, the wounds, the regrets, the victories, the hard-earned lessons — all of them begin to make sense in the light of God’s Word.

Scripture doesn’t erase your past — it redeems it.

The Spirit begins to weave it all together, and suddenly the memory of that trial 20 years ago becomes fuel for someone else’s fire today.

That heartbreak becomes a platform for counsel.

That moment of failure becomes an echo of God’s mercy.

And your whole life starts to take on a shape you never saw before, the shape of wisdom that is applied.

Paul tells us in 2 Timothy 3:15 that “the sacred writings are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.”

So if you want to be wise in your older years, you don’t have to reject your past.

You must soak your mind in the Scriptures, meditate on God’s truth, pray over it, study it, cling to it, obey it.

And then — oh, then — your decades of experience become dynamite in the hands of grace.

God doesn’t waste any of it.

He weaves it all together — the good, the bad, the foolish, the painful — into a kind of wisdom that is both rich in truth and tender in tone.

The kind of wisdom this church desperately needs from its older saints.

You will be stronger, not weaker, as you go deeper into the Word.

Not because you become something new, but because the Spirit begins to show you what He’s been building all along.

2 Corinthians 4:16 NASB95

Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day.

The outside may wrinkle. The memory may fade. But if the Word of God is alive in you, the soul only gets sharper.

Older saints, don’t settle for experience.

Pursue wisdom.

Let your years serve your church. Let your counsel shape the young.

Let your life be an illustration of a man or woman who has walked long, walked hard, and walks in the Word.

Conclusion

Older saints of the church — hear this final word from your pastor, your brother, and your son in the faith.

You are not done.

You are not sidelined.

You are not beyond usefulness.

You are not too late.

God is not done writing your story.

The Author of your faith still holds the pen. He does not waste ink, and He does not end chapters early.

This church needs you — not merely as spectators, but as soldiers.

Not as mourners of a bygone era, but as mentors to a rising one. We don’t need your nostalgia. We need your faith. We need your prayers. We need your wisdom. We need your endurance.

You have walked through fire. Now teach us how to walk through ours.

You have seen the faithfulness of God across the years. Now proclaim it to those still wondering if it’s true.

You have scars — show them. You have stories — tell them. You have Scripture in your bones — please, open your mouth and speak it.

Daniel 12:3 NASB95

“Those who have insight will shine brightly like the brightness of the expanse of heaven, and those who lead the many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever.

Do not spend your final years polishing your comforts. Spend them polishing crowns — for yourself, and for the generation that follows.

1 Corinthians 15:58 NASB95

Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord.

And know this! When the day comes — and it will — when you take your final breath and pass through the veil, I want to be there.

I want to walk with you to that edge.

I want to shepherd you all the way to the end, and see you off with joy in my heart.

And when my time comes, I want to die with the eager expectation of being reunited with you — my spiritual mothers and fathers, my older brothers and sisters — forever in the presence of our King.

So don’t slow down.

Don’t give up.

Don’t give in to laziness, regret, or pride.

Press on. Pray hard. Finish strong.

And shine like the stars of heaven.