I was in Nigeria in 2019 when I learnt that an old schoolmate, who lived in another country, was also visiting. I contacted him to see whether we could meet.
Our friendship went back many years. Our fathers had attended the same school, something we discovered when I went to sit the entrance examination for secondary school. From that time, we remained friends.
“How is old man?” he asked.
During our school days, we often referred affectionately to our fathers as “old man” or “Popsy.”
“Old man is old,” I replied.
“Tell me about it,” he said. “Old age is frightening.”
I did not know then that I had already seen my father alive for the last time.
Anyone who thinks my friend and I were being unnecessarily pessimistic should read the final chapter of Ecclesiastes. It describes, with remarkable poetry and honesty, the gradual decline that often accompanies old age.
None of us knows how long we will remain on this side of eternity. The purpose of this post is not to mock anyone, as someone once accused me of doing. It is not even primarily to criticise. It is to reflect and to learn.
The Apostle Paul wrote:
“Take heed unto thyself, and unto the doctrine; continue in them: for in doing this thou shalt both save thyself, and them that hear thee.”
— 1 Timothy 4:16, KJV
Hebrews also says:
“Remember them which have the rule over you, who have spoken unto you the word of God: whose faith follow, considering the end of their conversation.”
— Hebrews 13:7, KJV
In financial regulation, a model used to calculate and report regulatory capital must pass what is called a “use test.” A financial institution must demonstrate that the model presented to the regulator is also genuinely used in its day-to-day business. It cannot be one model for public presentation and another for practical reality.
There is a spiritual lesson here. Doctrines, particularly extreme doctrines that blame the sufferer whenever they fail, must be examined carefully. We should be able to ask whether those who teach them have themselves found the doctrines sufficient when confronted by the realities of illness, ageing, bereavement and human limitation.
This is the week of the South West Believers’ Convention. I became aware of it through Facebook friends who follow one of the Nigerian pastors attending the convention.
The most painful part for me was watching a clip of the elderly founder attempting to preach.
As he was ushered to the platform, a chair was provided for him. At almost 90 years old, he has surely earned the right to preach while seated. He initially said, “I don’t need that,” and the chair was moved aside. A short while later, however, he needed to sit down.
Paul wrote that although “our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.” There is no shame in the outward body becoming weaker. It is the common destiny of humanity. Age eventually reminds even the strongest among us that we are made of dust.
He did his best to preach, but he was clearly struggling. He intended to read from Romans 10 but opened his Bible to Romans 5. He began reading from Romans 5 without appearing to realise that he was in a different chapter. He also struggled to express his thoughts as clearly as he once could.
This was not something to laugh at. It was deeply moving and, at times, difficult to watch. It was a reminder that great influence, public acclaim, wealth and long years of ministry do not exempt anyone from human frailty.
At one point, he made a revealing observation, saying something to the effect of: What is the benefit of having a million dollars in the bank when one no longer has the health to enjoy it?
That statement deserves serious reflection.
We brought nothing into this world, and we will take nothing out of it. Money can pay for excellent medical care, but it cannot purchase immortality. Wealth may provide comfort, but it cannot permanently hold back age, illness or death.
His granddaughter also interviewed him. She expressed unhappiness that their ministry had sometimes been described as preaching “name it and claim it” or “blab it and grab it.” Yet there are old recordings in which members of the family appeared to embrace those very descriptions and pointed to their aeroplanes as evidence of the success of their message.
More moving, however, was her attempt to understand the serious health challenges her grandfather has endured, including heart procedures and the possibility of major back surgery at almost 90.
The unspoken question seemed to be: Why has someone who preached divine healing for so many years experienced so much illness?
There was no easy answer.
Perhaps that is because there is no easy answer.
The truth is that we do not fully understand why some people recover from illness while others do not. We do not know why some prayers appear to receive the answers we desire while others do not. We should therefore be very careful about doctrines that tell sick people that their continued illness must be the result of insufficient faith, negative confession, failure to give money or some hidden spiritual defect.
Such teachings can add guilt and shame to the already heavy burden of suffering.
The founder has accumulated extraordinary wealth, while his ministry has encouraged people to sow financially in expectation of healing and prosperity. That message deserves sober reconsideration, particularly in societies where poor and vulnerable people may give away what little they have because they believe that their healing or financial breakthrough depends upon it.
This does not mean that God cannot heal, bless or provide. It means that God must never be reduced to a formula, and faith must never be turned into a commercial transaction.
Old age will come to those who live long enough. Our bodies, in their present form, were not designed to last forever. Christian hope does not rest on pretending that believers will never become sick, weak or old. It rests on the promise that death will not have the final word.
I sincerely pray that this elderly preacher recovers as fully as possible and enjoys a good quality of life throughout his remaining years. I pray that he is surrounded by people who care for him with dignity, patience and genuine love.
I also pray that he will have the opportunity to reflect upon and correct any teachings that may still be used to burden or exploit vulnerable people, especially in Nigeria and across Africa.
There should be no triumphalism when an elderly person becomes frail. There should be compassion.
But compassion does not require silence.
We can honour the dignity of a person while still examining the doctrines he taught. We can pray for his health while asking whether some of his teachings caused harm. We can respect his age while learning from the contrast between human promises of perpetual health and prosperity and the unavoidable realities of life.
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