It’s usually accepted that age brings wisdom and experience, though the longer I’m on planet earth I wonder if I am actually an exception to the rule. I do know that over the years I have been fortunate to know many wise, godly older people who have loved and cared for me, taught and mentored me and, above all, inspired me.

The Bible has a cast list of thousands of characters of all ages. Among the older individuals, Caleb always seemed a great role model as he served the Lord wholeheartedly. But it’s Solomon who has been grabbing my attention recently. You can’t get much wiser than Solomon – we even use him as a benchmark for wisdom – and the story of his judgement about the two women both claiming to be a baby’s mother is very well-known (1 Kings 3:16-28 if you’ve forgotten it).

On the other hand, Solomon stands as a warning that growing older doesn’t always mean becoming wiser. In fact he seems to have gone the other way. In the beginning we are told that God was with him and made him great. Solomon asked for wisdom, and God gave him that and a lot more besides. But somewhere along the line, Solomon starts to lose it.

Even before the pomp and ceremony of the temple dedication and Solomon’s impressive prayer in 1 Kings 8, before God appears to Solomon a second time, we get an inkling of trouble ahead:

In the eleventh year in the month of Bul, the eighth month, the temple was finished in all its details according to its specifications. He had spent seven years building it. It took Solomon thirteen years, however, to complete the construction of his palace. (1 Kings 6:38-7:1)

Don’t you just love the word ‘however’? Doesn’t it ask a big question? How often do I kid myself that I am more committed to God than my own interests. John the Baptist got it right when talking about his relationship with Jesus: ‘I must decrease, he must increase’. As I grow older, that’s not a bad motto, but one that perhaps Solomon was struggling with.

And here’s another good question. Do I practice what I preach? As King, Solomon would have known what was required of him. Hundreds of years before, it was laid out like this:

The king, moreover, must not acquire great numbers of horses for himself or make the people return to Egypt to get more of them, for the LORD has told you, You are not to go back that way again. He must not take many wives, or his heart will be led astray. He must not accumulate large amounts of silver and gold. (Deuteronomy 17:16-17)

Solomon quickly blows all three injunctions:

Solomon’s horses were imported from Egypt . . . They imported a chariot from Egypt for six hundred shekels of silver, and a horse for a hundred and fifty. (1 Kings 10:28-29)

King Solomon, however, loved many foreign women besides Pharaoh’s daughter— Moabites, Ammonites, Edomites, Sidonians and Hittites. They were from nations about which the LORD had told the Israelites, You must not intermarry with them, because they will surely turn your hearts after their gods. Nevertheless, Solomon held fast to them in love. (1 Kings 11:1-2)

King Solomon was greater in riches and wisdom than all the other kings of the earth. (2 Chronicles 9:22)

It’s very easy to talk the talk without walking the walk. OK so Solomon messed up, big time. Don’t we all? Which leads me to a third question for myself. When I get it wrong (and the frequency with which this happens doesn’t seem to get any less as I grow older), am I sorry and prepared to repent? In the biblical account there’s no evidence that Solomon showed any sorrow or sign of repentance for what he had done. Unlike his father David, who also messed up, but was sorry (see Psalm 51).

This is the verdict on Solomon:

As Solomon grew old, his wives turned his heart after other gods, and his heart was not fully devoted to the LORD his God, as the heart of David his father had been. (1 Kings 11:6)

The man who gave us the exquisite love poem, Song of Songs. The author of all those wise sayings we know as Proverbs, the one who built the magnificent temple in Jerusalem, reduced to this:

Meaningless! Meaningless! says the Teacher. Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless . . . (Eccl 1:2)

When I was a younger Christian, I thought things might be easier as I grew older. Solomon is a warning that starting well doesn’t mean finishing well. But he has given me three questions to keep asking myself, as I grow older and (hopefully) wiser.