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!
When considering Solomon’s excess and riches, I recalled comedian George Carlin’s “Stuff” routine. First performed for Comic Relief in 1986, Carlin made fun of our obsession with having stuff. Along with being the King of Israel, Solomon was the King of Stuff. Denying himself nothing, along with his elaborate throne of gold and ivory, he displayed 500 ornamental gold shields on the walls of his palace. Rather than silver, all the king’s goblets and eating utensils were made of pure gold. He had 40,000 stalls of horses for his chariots, and 12,000 horseman.
God gifted Solomon with great wisdom and people from every nation journeyed to Solomon’s court to hear his wisdom. Although 1 Kings 3 tells us that Solomon wisely determined the identity of the real mother in a dispute between two women who claimed to have given birth to the same infant [3:16-28], one wise answer hardly seems newsworthy enough to make him famous beyond Israel’s borders. Even the king’s prolific writings and vast knowledge of botany and zoology don’t fully explain his renown. In a world without mass media, what caused his reputation to travel some 1,400 miles to Sheba (modern Yemen)? Sheba’s queen was so interested in meeting the king that she and her entourage made a journey which, including her stay in Judah and the return trip, took two to three years. What about Solomon caused her to travel so far to assess the king’s wisdom and wealth for herself?
The patient Cormorant had been diving and resurfacing empty-beaked for several minutes before finally emerging victorious with a large fish crosswise in its beak. The fish thrashed in the cormorant’s beak while the bird tried to re-position its meal so it could be swallowed head first. A Brown Pelican suddenly crashed into the water and, after a great deal of wing flapping and water splashing, it was clear the Cormorant was no match for the larger bird. While the Pelican threw back its head and swallowed the unlucky fish, the unfortunate cormorant swam away still hungry.
The Israelites had been away from Israel for less than two months when they arrived at Rephidim. With no water to drink, the people complained, questioned whether the Lord was with them, criticized Moses, and then threatened him. Fearing for his life, Moses asked God what to do. Instructing him to strike a rock with his staff, God promised that water would come gushing out and, as promised, it did. The miracle was memorialized by the name given to this location, Massah (meaning testing) and Meribah (meaning quarreling.) Unfortunately, that was not the last time the Israelites tested the Lord and quarreled with Moses.
At first, it seems that the “Parable of the Unforgiving Servant” should be called the “Parable of the Forgiven Servant.” After all, the king forgave his servant’s debt of 10,000 talents—the equivalent of billions of dollars. While the first part of the parable illustrates the value and extravagance of God’s forgiveness, it takes a dark turn in the second part when illustrating the reciprocal nature of His forgiveness—something the servant learned the hard way!
Devotions of the Heart 