From an old preacher many years ago I thought you might enjoy seeing:
A Sermon To Aged People
By
Joseph Lathrop, D. D. (1731-1820) at 74 years of age
Pastor of the first Church in West-Springfield
My aged Brethren and Friends, You will permit an aged man, like yourselves, to speak, this afternoon, a few words to you…Or, if you please, he will speak to himself in your hearing…Pertinent to our case, and worthy of our adoption, is the Petition of the Psalmist in:
Psalm 71:9
Cast me not off in the time of old age…Forsake me not when my strength faileth.
The Psalmist here reminds us, that old age is a time when strength faileth: And that at such a time God's presence is of peculiar importance.
Our subject powerfully applies itself to us, who are advanced in age. We begin to feel the decays of strength, and to perceive the indications of our approaching dissolution.
While we tarry here, our infirmities will probably increase; our days and nights will become more wearisome; the pleasure of senses will lose their relish; the burden of worldly business will be too heavy for our bending shoulders; the implements of our labor will drop out of our palsied hands,
The happiness of the parent, in the latter stages of his life, depends much on the good behavior of his children; and particularly on their kind attention to him…I pity the aged man, who, when his strength fails, looks anxiously around, and sees not a son on whom he can lean: No; not a child, who will reach out a hand to sustain his sinking frame, and guide his tottering steps… But I congratulate the happy old man, who sees his children about him, all attentive to his wants, listening to his complaints, compassionate to his pains, and emulous each to excel the other in acts of filial duty…I honor the children, when instead of seeing the old father tossed from place to place, unwelcome wherever he is sent, they adopt the language of Joseph, "come to me, my father; thou shalt be near to me, and I will nourish thee." Such filial kindness soothes the pains, and cheers the spirits of the parent. It makes him forget his affliction, or remember it as waters which pass away.
As we come into the world, so we depart, impotent, feeble and helpless. From our infancy we gradually acquire strength, until we arrive to our full maturity. We then for a few years continue stationary, without sensible change. After a little while we begin to feel, and are constrained to confess an alteration in our state. Our limbs lose their former activity; our customary labor becomes wearisome; pains invade our frame; our sleep, often interrupted, refreshes us less than heretofore; our food is less gustful; our sight is bedimmed, and our ears are dull of hearing; "they that look out at the windows are darkened, and the daughters of music are low;" the pleasures of reading and conversation abate; our ancient companions have generally withdrawn to another world, and the few who are left are, like us, shut up, that they cannot go forth…Hence social visits are more unfrequent and less entertaining; and our condition grows more and more solitary and disconsolate.
With our bodily, our mental strength usually declines. The faculty which first appears to fail is the memory. And its failure we first observe in the difficulty of recollecting little things, such as names and numbers. We then perceive it in our inability to retain things which are recent…What we early heard or read, abides with us; but later information is soon forgotten. Hence, in conversation, aged people often repeat the same questions, and relate the same stories; for they soon lose the recollection of what has passed And hence perhaps, in part, is the impertinent garrulity, of which old age is accused… You see, then my young friends, the importance of laying up a good store of useful knowledge in early life. What you acquire now, you may retain: Later acquisitions will be small and uncertain. Like riches, they will make them wings and fly away. In the decline of life you must chiefly depend on the old stock; and happy, if you shall have then a rich store to feed upon.
When memory fails, other faculties soon follow. The attention is with more difficulty fixed, and more easily diverted: the intellect is less acute in its discernment, and the judgment more fallible in its decisions.
The judgment is the last faculty which the pride of age is willing to give up…Our forgetfulness we cannot but feel, and others cannot but observe. But we choose to think our judgment remains solid and clear. We are never apt to distrust our own opinions; for it is the nature of opinion to be satisfied with itself. It is certain, however, that judgment must fail in some proportion to the failure of attention and recollection. We form a just judgment by viewing and comparing the evidences and circumstances, which relate to the case in question. If then any material evidence, or circumstance escapes our notice, or slips from our memory, the judgment formed is uncertain, because we have but a partial view of the case. In all matters, where a right judgment depends on comparing several things, the failure of memory endangers the rectitude of the decision.
When we perceive a decline of bodily and mental strength, fear and anxiety usually increase. Difficulties once trifling now swell to a terrifying magnitude, because we have not power to encounter them. Want stares upon us with frightful aspect, because we have not capacity to provide against it…The kind and patient attention of our friends we distrust, because we know not how long we may be a burden to them, and we have nothing in our hands to remunerate them, except that property, which they already anticipate as their own. "The grasshopper now becomes a burden' we rise up at the voice of the bird; we are afraid of that which is high, and fear is in the way."
This state of infirmity and anxiety, painful in itself, is rendered more so by the recollection of what we once were, and by the anticipation of what we soon shall be.
We contrast our present with our former condition…Once we were men; now we feel ourselves to be but babes. Once we possessed active powers; now we are become impotent. Once we sustained our children and ministered to them with pleasure; now we are sustained by them; and we are sure, our once experienced pleasure is not reciprocated. Once we were of some importance in society; now we are sunk into insignificance. Once our advice was sought and regarded; now we are passed by with neglect, and younger men take our place: even the management of our own substance has fallen into the hands of others, and they perhaps scarcely think us worthy of being consulted. And if we are, now and then, consulted, perhaps our jealousy whispers, that it is done merely to flatter our aged vanity and keep us in good humor.
But how happy the aged Christian, who can look back on a life employed in works of piety to God, and beneficence to men, and who now feels the spirit of devotion and charity warmed within him and acting with fresh vigor to confirm his hopes of heaven, dispel the fears of death, and light up fresh joys in his soul? He can take pleasure in his infirmities, regarding them as kind intimations, that "now is hi salvation nearer, than when he believed."
In all seasons and conditions of life, the hope of glory is much to be desired, and earnestly to be sought. This will lighten our afflictions and sweeten our mercies; defend us against temptations and smooth the path of duty; dispel the gloom which hovers round the grave, and brighten the prospect of eternity… But this hope is never more important, or more delightful than in old age
When we have reached old age, or find ourselves near it, we may reasonably and properly pray, that God would excuse us from those pains of body and infirmities of mind, with which some have been afflicted; that he would place us in easy and unembarrassed circumstances, and allow us liberty for those devout exercises, which are suited to prepare us for our momentous change.
Looking forward to the last stage of life, and realizing the condition in which he may then be placed, let him often ask beforehand, that God would give him at that time, the spirit of prayer in a superior degree, would grant him, under nature's weakness, ability to collect and arrange his thoughts, and a fervor of pious affection in making known his requests. This, in a similar case, was the employment and the comfort of the Psalmist. "My soul," says he, "is full of troubles, and my life draweth near to the grave; mine acquaintance are put far from me; and I am shut up, that I cannot go forth." And what could he do in this condition? One thing he could do; and this he did. He applied himself to prayer, which is the best relief of an afflicted soul. "I have called daily upon thee, and to thee have I stretched out my hands Unto thee have I cried, O Lord, and in the morning shall my prayer prevent thee. Let my prayer come before thee; incline thine ear to my cry."
My brethren, if we wish to enjoy the comforts of religion at last, we must cultivate the temper, and keep up the exercise of religion now. It will be no easy matter to take up the business then, unless we have been accustomed to it before.
You, my friends, who are in the midst of life, and you who are young, are not uninterested in this subject. You all think, that we, who are aged, need the comforts of religion. God grant, that we may have them. Do you not sometimes think of us in your prayers? We hope you do. But know, if you live to be aged, (and you all desire many days) these comforts will then be as necessary for you, as they are now for us. But how can you be sure of them then, unless you obtain an interest in them now? To have the comforts of religion, you must have religion itself. Embrace it, therefore, in your hearts; cultivate the holy tempers which it requires; maintain the good works which it enjoins, and ascertain your title to the eternal blessings which it proposes…Thus lay up for yourselves a good foundation against the time, which is to come, that you may lay hold on eternal life."
Source:
Sermon - The Infirmities and Comforts of Old Age - 1805 - WallBuilders