The ability to listen to one’s elders is unnatural, but it’s a quality that has to be learned, and sometimes it’s learned the hard way.
I think of Rehoboam, Solomon’s son and the successor to his throne. You would expect some of Solomon’s famous wisdom to have rubbed off on the young man, but unfortunately, as Solomon aged and edged away from God, the old king made a fool of himself.
One of his worst mistakes was to conscript Israelites as slave labor to build “the Lord’s temple, his own palace, the supporting terraces, the wall of Jerusalem, and Hazor, Megiddo and Gezer . . . He built up Lower Beth Horon, Baalath, and Tadmor . . . as well as all his store cities and the towns for his chariots and for his horses” (1 Kings 9:15–19).
It would have been one thing to build a national sanctuary—an exceptional work that would have galvanized his people and enlisted their sympathies—but it was another to coerce them into building projects that served only to aggrandize the king. That unwelcome chore created widespread dissatisfaction and several times brought Israel to the edge of civil war. So when Solomon died and a new order emerged, the tribes from the north and their would-be leader, Jeroboam, appealed to Rehoboam for relief: “Your father put a heavy yoke on us, but now lighten the harsh labor . . . and we will serve you” (12:4).
Rehoboam was nonplussed. He asked for time to consider their request and then consulted the elders who had served his father: “ ‘How would you advise me to answer these people?’ he asked. They replied, ‘If today you will be a servant to these people and serve them and give them a favorable answer, they will always be your servants’ ” (12:6–7).
The elders gave sound advice—good leaders should lead by compassion and not by fear—but Rehoboam “rejected the advice the elders gave him and consulted [instead] the young men who had grown up with him and were serving him. He asked them, ‘What is your advice? How should we answer these people?’ ” The young men replied, “Tell them, ‘My little finger is thicker than my father’s waist. My father laid on you a heavy yoke; I will make it even heavier. My father scourged you with whips; I will scourge you with scorpions [a type of whip with iron hooks]’ ” (12:10–11).
And so, taking the counsel of his young friends, Rehoboam began his reign by cracking his whip, but his gambit failed. Jeroboam and his followers walked out, and Israel seceded from Judah and crowned Jeroboam as their king. Rehoboam had single-handedly torn the nation apart—a schism from which they never recovered—all because he forsook the advice of his elders and listened instead to his peers.
As I thought about this foolishness, a principle emerged: When in doubt, ask an old grizzly. All of us need the counsel of older, wiser folks. (In my case it’s time for me to find an even older grizzly.)
Of course not all old-timers are wise. There are wise old folks and there are wicked old folks, and some men and women just get to be old fools. But since all knowledge, wisdom, and character is cumulative, it follows that those who have loved the Savior a long time will reach maturity rich in their understanding of God and be wise in His ways. Think of the calm He brings, the understanding He leaves them, “the hoarded spoils, the legacies of time.”
Old-timers who have walked a long time with God and have listened well to His counsel usually have something to say. It’s good to seek them out and heed their counsel. In a multitude of such counselors, there is safety (Proverbs 11:14).
Taken from Seeing God, © 2006 by David Roper. Used by permission of Discovery House Publishers, Box 3566, Grand Rapids MI 49501. All rights reserved.