He must increase, but I must decrease. [John 3:30 (ESV)]
After pointing out Jesus as the “Lamb of God,” some of John the Baptizer’s disciples left John to follow Jesus. Later, John’s remaining disciples reported that Jesus was baptizing (it actually was His disciples) and wanted to know whose purification ritual of baptism was valid. With many turning from John to Jesus, the Baptizer’s disciples were confused, concerned, and probably a little envious. Apparently, they forgot that John’s original mission was that of forerunner—the one who would prepare the way for the Messiah and point the way to the Lamb of God. Knowing that he wasn’t the bridegroom but only His friend, the Baptizer humbly affirmed his position by telling his disciples that Jesus must become more prominent while he became less and less important. J.C. Ryle likened the Baptizer’s role to that of a star growing paler and paler as the sun rises until the star completely disappears in the light of the sun. John clearly understood that he was to fade in the light of the Son.
During this time of Lent, I have given thought to John’s words and tried (rather unsuccessfully) to decrease so that Jesus’ presence can increase. It was upon reading the following prayer by John Wesley that I realized how much of me I refuse to surrender. Prepared by Wesley for the early Methodist societies in 1755, the prayer is part of a Covenant Renewal Service in Methodist churches today. Although Wesley’s original, with its “Thee,” “Thy,” and “Thou,” has been updated with “You,” “Your,” and “Yours,” the prayer’s level of commitment remains the same.
I am no longer my own, but Yours. Put me to what You will, rank me with whom You will; Put me to doing; put me to suffering; Let me be employed for You or laid aside for You, Exalted for You, or brought low for You; Let me be full, let me be empty; Let me have all things, let me have nothing; I freely and wholeheartedly yield all things to Your pleasure and disposal. [John Wesley]
These are the words of a man who was willing to decrease so that Jesus would increase—so that God’s light would be visible in his life. A prayer of surrender, Wesley’s words are those of a servant who loves and trusts his master enough to willingly submit in advance to whatever his master demands.
When Jesus called us to take up our crosses, He wasn’t speaking of bravely facing some tragic situation or long-term illness. A cross meant certain death and taking up our cross means dying to ourselves. Surrendering our wants, plans, and desires to Him, taking up our cross is decreasing while He increases! Unlike Wesley, my prayer of, “Do with me whatever You please, give me whatever task you would have me do, send me wherever whenever you want, take all that I have, and give me whatever you choose,” includes the unspoken words, “as long as it’s what I want and isn’t too inconvenient!”
While I may sing the old hymn’s words, “Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to thee,” there are limitations to my offer. God is welcome to my life, my time, my hands and feet, my voice, my skills, my wealth, and my will just as long as it’s on my terms! By the way, Lord, don’t ask me to do manual labor, go without modern conveniences, move, learn a new language, or leave my family!
In The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis points out that God doesn’t want most of our time and attention or even all of it; He want us—the whole package—body and soul! There is no part of us that does not belong to Him and upon which he has no claim. He wants to completely fill us with His presence, but that’s only possible if we decrease to make room for Him. It is only when we empty our souls of our own will that He can fill us with His! Let us remember: If we’re too filled with ourselves to make room for His fasts, sacrifices, and responsibilities, then we’re too filled with ourselves to have room for His feasts, gifts, and blessings!
Lord, show me how to decrease so that You might increase!
Along the road to the Serengeti, somewhere near the Olduvai Gorge in Tanzania, is a crescent-shaped sand dune. Measuring about 30-feet in height and 328-feet long along its curves, it is known as the Shifting Sands. Rich in iron and highly magnetized, the sand sticks to itself when tossed in the air. When the wind blows, its particles fall back on the dune rather than get carried away by the breeze. The dune, however, is constantly on the move as the prevailing winds slowly move the entire thing across the land. Moving about 50-feet a year, it’s believed that the Shifting Sands have been traveling the savannah for more than three thousand years, sometimes changing both shape and direction. Of course, the dune moves so gradually that you don’t see its motion. Nevertheless, stakes in the ground indicate its location in previous years.
Following the Parable of the Sower and the Soils, Jesus told another parable about the coming of the Kingdom. In the Parable of the Weeds, after the farmer plants wheat, his enemy sows weeds in the same field. Jesus’ hearers would have known the weed likely was darnel. Called wheat’s “evil twin,” it looks and behaves much like wheat. When wheat is consumed it gives life but, when darnel is consumed, this inedible look-alike causes nausea and even death. Sowing weeds in a field was an act of sabotage and Roman law specifically prohibited doing so with darnel. When nations went to war, agricultural vandalism was a common practice. Olive trees were cut down, grape vines destroyed, and fields were salted so nothing would grow.
As we came together in worship, each of us bringing the Lord our own private sins, sorrows, doubts, and fears, the hymn’s words, “Just as I am… I come, I come,” seemed a fitting way to start the service. Because its heartfelt words are so relatable, Just as I Am is one of my favorite hymns. Curious about its origin, I learned that its words were written by a Victorian hymn writer named Charlotte Elliott. The daughter of an evangelist, she suffered a serious illness at the age of 32 that left her an invalid for the rest of her life. Angry about what she perceived as uselessness because of her disability, Elliott became severely depressed and spiritually lost. After a visiting minister counseled her to come to Jesus, she asked how she could come to Him when all she had was her anger, sadness, questions, and broken body. The clergyman’s response was simple: “Come to Him just as you are.” Although she gave her life to Christ at that time, she continued to be plagued by depression.
The story is told of a Russian rabbi standing on a hillside with his student. As they looked down at the valley below, the men watched in horror as a band of Cossacks charged into their village. They heard the townspeople’s terrified screams as they were slaughtered and saw the smoke rise as their village was set afire by the marauders. With tears in his eyes, the rabbi looked up to heaven and cried, “If only I were God!” His troubled student asked what the rabbi would do differently if he were God. “Nothing,” replied the old man, “but then I would understand why!”
Devotions of the Heart 