SERMON 5 October 2025 “?”

How old do we have to be before we are called an ‘older person’? It all depends on who is looking. A kid could think I am already elderly. But for someone in their eighties, I’m still rather youthful. Yet one thing is certain: each of us is a little bit older than we were when we had breakfast this morning.

As time goes on, we tend to forget why we walked into the kitchen a minute ago,  yet can still sing every word of a song we learned in primary school. Can anyone else relate to that? A tune from childhood plays perfectly in our heads, but yesterday? Already fuzzy. Ageing is a mystery in and of itself. Our recollections change. As we age, our bodies change and our lives are reshaped.

And certainly, sometimes those changes feel unsettling or even painful. Aging reminds us of what we can no longer do, what we have lost, or what is slipping away. But here’s the question I want us to carry into today’s message: What if aging is not only about losing? What if it is also about gaining? What if God has something important to say about growing older that we may have overlooked? Keep that question in mind. We’ll come back to questions at the end. The scriptures we heard this morning give us answers, answers that speak of hope, purpose, and the faithfulness of God in every season of life.

We often feel pressure to stay positive, to hide our struggles. But the Bible gives us permission to be honest about our pain. The book of Lamentations comes out of deep suffering.  Jerusalem has fallen, the temple that was part of their lives is in ruins, and the prophet cries out: “The thought of my affliction and my homelessness is wormwood and gall!”

The herb wormwood is a bitter plant. And gall? I had to look that one up. Medically, it helps with digestion, but it tastes awful. Jeremiah uses these bitter flavours to show that his pain isn’t only in his heart, it’s all over his body, even his mouth. ‘God, this pain is so bitter I can taste it.’ He doesn’t hide it. He doesn’t try to dress it up or make it sound better than it is. He is honest about his pain and brings it straight to God.

How often do we feel we have to say “I’m fine” when we’re really not? It’s something we all do. But as we age, that pressure can intensify—when our bodies ache, when friends pass away, when we can’t do the things we used to take for granted. We’re tempted to hide those struggles, to keep a brave face. But Jeremiah shows us another way: bring it to God. Name it. Be honest. But Jeremiah doesn’t stop at the bitterness.

He makes a move; “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning.” We age every day. That’s just reality. But here’s the thing: every single morning, God’s mercy is brand new. The bitterness is real, but it is not the whole story.

There’s something else here: the authority that comes with age. Psalm 71 is clearly the prayer of someone older: “Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone.”(Psalm 71:9 NIV) The psalmist knows his strength is fading, and he’s honest about it. He’s not complaining to others or giving up- he’s turning to God. That’s what a lifetime of faith looks like: honest trust. It comes from a lifetime of walking with God.

And then the psalmist says, “Even to old age and grey hairs… let me proclaim your might to another generation.”(Psalm 71:18 NIV) See what that means? Old age is not the end of the mission. It is the time to pass the baton. Many of us first learned faith from grandparents, teachers, neighbours whose hands were wrinkled and whose faith was deep. To those of you with grey hair and wrinkled hands, your work is not finished. Your prayers, your stories, your faith, it carries weight.

There’s one more thing 2 Timothy shows us: faith is passed from generation to generation.
Paul remembers Timothy’s grandmother Lois and his mother Eunice. Eunice didn’t write a book of the Bible. Lois didn’t perform miracles. But she passed on her faith to Eunice. And she passed it to Timothy. Three generations. And because of that steady, faithful passing of the torch, Timothy became a leader in the church. Faith multiplies like that. Steady faith, lived consistently, changes generations.

Maybe you are a grandparent, or simply someone older in the church. Don’t underestimate your influence. Young eyes are watching. Young hearts are listening. Your faith is shaping them, whether they say it or not.

Paul says, “Rekindle the gift of God that is within you.” Like a fire that needs a breath of air, our faith can be stirred up again at any age. God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and self-discipline. So let’s hold onto this truth: Yes, aging brings losses. But it also brings wisdom, testimony, and a calling to pass faith on. God’s mercies are new every morning, grey hairs and all.

To the older among us: thank you. Your presence, your stories, your prayers, they matter deeply. To the younger among us: slow down. Listen. Learn from the voices that have gone before you. And to all of us: remember, we are aging together, and God’s faithfulness is with us every step of the way.

So let me ask you the question I’ve been wanting to ask all along:  What would you call your life? If you had to give your life a title right now, whether you’re in your 30s or 80s, what would it be? Maybe your title is ppt “Still Learning”, none of us have it all figured out yet. Maybe it’s ppt “Passing the Torch”, someone needs your light.

Maybe it’s “Still in the Game”, grey hair doesn’t mean game over. Whatever your title is, I hope it includes this one truth: God isn’t finished with your story. You’re not done. Your faith still matters. And every single morning, God’s mercies are brand new. Amen.