Yesterday, I was privileged once again to take the pulpit during my local churchโs Sabbath service. It was the global #EndItNow Emphasis Sabbath, an annual moment when Adventist congregations worldwide confront the scourge of abuse in its many forms. This year, the spotlight fell on a group often forgotten until their frailty becomes unavoidable; the elderly. Stewarded by womenโs ministries across the globe, it was a call not just to awareness, but to repentance and action.
The memory text came from ๐๐ฑ๐จ๐๐ฎ๐ฌ ๐๐:๐๐ โHonor your father and your motherโ, and the sermon was titled โ๐๐๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ ๐จ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐ฅ๐๐๐ซ๐ฅ๐ฒ: ๐๐จ๐ง๐จ๐ซ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐ ๐๐ญ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐๐จ๐ญ๐ก๐๐ซ.โJesus Himself reinforced this command in ๐๐๐ซ๐ค ๐:๐โ๐๐ , when He rebuked the Pharisees for upholding tradition as an excuse to abandon their parents. By extension, He rebuked every generation tempted to treat the old as burdens instead of blessings.
I must acknowledge that this sermon was not my own original creation. Like countless other Adventist preachers yesterday, I paraphrased the wisdom penned in 2007 by two remarkable women leaders: ๐๐๐๐ญ๐ก๐๐ซ-๐๐๐ฐ๐ง ๐๐ฆ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ, now departed, and ๐๐๐ช๐ฎ๐๐ฅ ๐๐ซ๐ซ๐๐ข๐ฌ, still faithfully serving. Their foresight then has become, in our time, an urgent intervention. For this I am profoundly grateful.
In preparing to preach, I could not escape a deep, uncomfortable reflection: how have I treated the elderly entrusted to my life? There are moments I am proud of, times I have protected, helped, or simply listened. But honesty compels me to admit there are also moments of neglect.
There have been days when I delayed returning calls from my mother, father, or uncle, even when I knew they reached out simply to connect. I have older friends who have accompanied me faithfully in my career and spiritual journey, yet more often than not it is they who initiate the call, not me. On the surface these lapses may seem small, but they are not. To ignore the communication of elders is to inflict emotional neglect. To immerse myself in a full day of church activity while failing to return an uncleโs repeated calls is, in its own way, a form of spiritual neglect. May Godโs grace suffice where I have fallen short.
What Elder Abuse Really Looks Like? The ๐๐จ๐ซ๐ฅ๐ ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐ญ๐ก ๐๐ซ๐ ๐๐ง๐ข๐ณ๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง defines elder abuse as any act or failure to act appropriately within a relationship of trust that causes harm or distress to an older person. Too often, we imagine only physical violence, but abuse takes many subtler forms. It can be financial exploitation, when resources meant for care are siphoned away. It can be emotional neglect, when phone calls are ignored and their voices are silenced. It can be social abandonment, when we treat them as invisible once they no longer provide materially. It can even be spiritual abuse, when religion is used as an excuse to deny help, like a child who claims all their income was โgiven to Godโ and therefore their parents must go without food or medicine.
Abuse also shows up in cultural attitudes. Too often the elderly are treated as irrelevant, boring, or a nuisance. Yet they are bearers of memory, wisdom, and dignity. They deserve conversation, companionship, and the assurance that their lives still matter beyond what they once owned or provided.
I have seen grandchildren unmoved by the poverty of grandparents who once raised them when their own parents were busy. I have heard young people boast that ensuring their parents live decently is โnot their responsibility.โ This is more than ingratitude; it is disobedience to the command to honor oneโs parents.
Yet preventing elder abuse does not require monumental gestures. It begins with simple, deliberate acts: returning a call, asking about their youth, listening without rushing, or visiting not to showcase achievements but simply to share presence. Even the act of checking in on a friendโs parents, especially when distance keeps their child who’s one’s friend away, can warm an elderโs heart and affirm that their child has built meaningful relationships. During festive seasons, rather than reducing visits to mere displays of success, we can choose instead to spend quality time, characterized by real conversation and genuine attention.
For communities, congregations, and workplaces, intentional recognition also makes a difference. Imagine dedicating a day each year to celebrate the elderly, inviting them to lead an activity with the support of younger members, and creating intergenerational spaces where they are not just present but central. Such practices are simple but deeply restorative.
For Christians, honoring the elderly is not a suggestion; it is a command. ๐๐๐ฏ๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐๐ฎ๐ฌ ๐๐:๐๐ is unequivocal: โStand up in the presence of the aged, show respect for the elderly and revere your God.โTo dishonor the old is, ultimately, to dishonor God Himself. The chilling story of the prophet Elisha in ๐ ๐๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌ ๐:๐๐โ๐๐ reminds us that when the young mock or mistreat the old, heaven itself may intervene. God defends the elderly even against the arrogance of youth.
And for those who do not share this faith, the truth remains: age beckons us all. If we do not die young, we too will grow old. The scripts we write today in how we treat the elderly will one day be replayed by our children when they watch us grow frail.
Let me end this reflection to do what I failed to do earlier last week which is returning the calls of my uncle who’s in his late seventies, had phoned me three times last week and once today already. I haven’t returned his calls. Often, he just wants to know how I am. That is his way of showing love. My silence denies him that joy. That is my neglect, and I must repent of it.
Friends, let us pause and ask ourselves: Whose call or presence have we ignored? Whose dignity have we overlooked? Whose wisdom have we silenced? Old age is not a burden to be managed, but a crown of experience to be honored.
May we not wait until it is too late to learn this truth.
