Friday Sermon: Fatai Akintola Kekere-Ekun in the Evening of Life

By Babatunde Jose

The Bible tells us; “The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years yet is their strength labor and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.” Bible KJV, Psalm 90:10.

“The glory of the young is their strength; the gray hair of experience is the splendor of the old.” Every day is a gift from God, and the accumulation of days, months and years is the cumulative gift of God. Proverbs 20:29

At seventy we are in the evening of our life. We are blessed with three portions in life; the morning period when we are all over the place, under the care and watchful attention of parents. Those are the years of innocence. During these years, we are not accountable for our actions, neither can we be served alcoholic beverages nor cigarettes; neither are we expected to have carnal knowledge of the opposite sex.

Societal mores and values are internalized and where in extreme cases we deviate, we are sent to correctional institutions for deviant children. Some are unlucky during these formative years as they are orphaned, and many lose their bearings in life.

However, many do not live past the morning of their lives. They are cut short like the lilies of the river. Like it was said in Jeremiah 20:18, some will ask why they came out of the womb to see’ only trouble and sorrow and to end their days in shame’. But the majority are lucky. They get to see the afternoon of life during which they grow into adulthood, get married and get fruitful and multiply.

Depending on the grace of God and His benevolence, many swim the river of life and are able to see the arrival of the dusk of life when darkness of night begins to fall. It is, however, a law of life that we can never witness the morning of life again.

When evening comes, we are ready to depart to meet our maker, we have collected our boarding passes and are waiting to board the flight of no return. What then does this evening entail? The evening could be short, or it could be long and extend to the twilight zone. In most cases, the flight is delayed but never cancelled.

But no matter how long the night is, the morning will never come. In plain language, after 70, man could live up to 80, 90, or 100, but he would never be born again. He could exhibit all the characteristics and traits of a baby, but he is still in the evening of life.

In the evening, the busy day of life is over. Its pleasures, its duties, and its anxieties have passed. The sunshine and the shade, which alternately marked its path, have alike disappeared; and the soft tints of evening are gathered over the sky.

The evening of life! Yes! Life has its sunset hour, its twilight season. The dim eye, the silvered lock, and the feeble step — indicate that the closing period of earthly existence has arrived. How rapid the flight of time! How near must be the approach of eternity! These are questions for the discerning mind.

The gradual decline of health and strength is a kind and merciful preparative for the solemn change which awaits us; to soften the abrupt transition from the present to a future state of being.

The evening of life accustomed us to the consideration of death — it assists us in the realization of immortality. Evening is the time for rest. The little bird seeks its leafy roost; the weary laborer comes home from his work. The cares of the day are forgotten — and all is hushed and quiet.

And life’s closing hours should be distinguished by serenity and repose. You must not harass and perplex yourself now with occupations which were once both appropriate and necessary, nor let yourself repine because you are unable to exert yourself as in former days. Your strength is to sit still. Old age is the resting-place in the journey of life; and the feverish heat of noontide is exchanged for the refreshing coolness of twilight.

An impatient, restless, grasping, or dissatisfied spirit — is not consistent with the character of an aged pilgrim. Habitual quietude and self-possession should mark his demeanor. Neither the excitements of the world, nor the agitations of the professing religion — should ruffle your equanimity; for you are too experienced a traveler in this valley of tears, to be discomposed by the distractions around you, or to doubt the wisdom and faithfulness of Him who makes all things work together for good.

The cheerful, all-sustaining faith of the aged, is one of the best testimonies to the worth and reality of abiding faith in God and furnishes a bright and encouraging example to the younger generation.

The evening of life is the time for reflection. Amidst the busy and exciting occupations of the day, there is seldom much opportunity for serious consideration. Well-disciplined minds, it is true, can control their thoughts and gather them around high and holy subjects — even in those moments which are necessarily devoted to worldly business; but most people are so harassed and engrossed by the constant claims upon their time and attention — as scarcely to be able to cast a hurried glance on things which are unseen and eternal; and they feel how welcome and how desirable is the evening hour for quiet meditation, for self-examination, and for the formation of wise and good purposes.

Our evening of life should be consecrated to calm and elevated thought. Through the long period which has passed, you have not perhaps redeemed much time for hallowed consideration. Whatever has been your previous history — you are now, by the infirmities of old age, withdrawn from active duties — that you may muse upon coming eternal realities. How thankful should you feel that there is yet a brief space allotted to you for pious thought and preparation, before you go hence and are no more seen!

In the peaceful twilight hour, when we sit alone and commune with our own hearts, our thoughts naturally turn to the occurrences of the past. Little incidents, too trifling perhaps to speak about, are reviewed and dwelt upon.

And then we generally glance at the future. We arrange our plans for the coming day; we look forward with glad expectancy to the joys which are in store for us; or we shrink in fear and despondency from the troubles which seem associated with the morrow.

Old age is the most appropriate season for this consideration of the past. Judgment is not so likely to be warped by the heat of excitement, nor the feelings to be swayed by the influence of passion — as in youthful days. The veteran, as he recalls the battlefield, can mark events and form opinions far more advantageously than the soldier who is engaged amid an action.

Contemplate, then, your whole life from the dawn of infancy — to its present decline. But is it pleasant to look back? Are there not many places in our pilgrimage where memory dislikes to linger? Are there not many facts in life’s early records, which we feel happier in forgetting? True, the remembrance of our imperfections and our sins — is painful and self-condemning; yet it is always best to open one’s eyes to the truth.

The retrospect in either case, is deeply humbling. Yet it leads to hope, and peace, and salvation. Both to the troubled mind and the penitent sinner.

But the consideration of the past should not only awaken penitence — it should excite gratitude. You have been wonderfully preserved from many dangers; you have been safely guided through many difficulties; you have been continually enriched with numberless blessings.

Surely goodness and mercy have followed you all the days of your life. Recall some of the multiplied proofs which you have had of God’s tender, parental care over you. It would be impossible to recount every instance of his goodness towards you — for memory, always imperfect, is now sadly impaired, and forgets many of his blessings and benefits.

Each comfort which you have enjoyed through life — came from his beneficent hand; each impulse to good and each resistance to evil which you have felt — was through the impartation of his grace.