John 3

²⁵ Now a discussion arose between some of John’s disciples and a Jew over purification. ²⁶ And they came to John and said to him, “Rabbi, he who was with you across the Jordan, to whom you bore witness—look, he is baptizing, and all are going to him.” ²⁷ John answered, “A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven. ²⁸ You yourselves bear me witness, that I said, ‘I am not the Christ, but I have been sent before him.’ ²⁹ The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete. ³⁰ He must increase, but I must decrease.”

Luke 7

²⁸ I tell you, among those born of women none is greater than John. Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.”

From 1512-1516, The Isenheim Altarpiece was sculpted by Niclaus of Haguenau and painted by Matthias Grunewald, a German Renaissance painter. It is an arresting piece of work.

It was painted for the Monastery of Saint Anthony, a monastery that was especially involved in the care of the sick. Many of the monks cared for those suffering the effects of plague, particularly in their skin. This is why Jesus’ skin looks diseased in the painting. Karl Barth, the famed theologian, had a copy of Grunewald’s painting in his office and used to spend a great deal of time contemplating it.

You can see the crucifixion scene prominently displayed here in the centerpiece, but when you come in close to John the Baptist you can also see an interesting detail that Grunewald added. The words above John the Baptist’s arm are, “Illum oportet crescere, me autem minui.” That is Latin for, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” These are the words of John the Baptist in response to the news that Jesus’ ministry and fame was expanding greater than John’s own. Instead of responding with jealousy or scorn, John famously said, “He must increase, but I must decrease.”

This is one of those verses that has an immediate and, simultaneously, a greater meaning. In the immediate context, John’s words were a declaration that Jesus’ fame and ministry and following should grow while his own decreased. But, in the broader sense, John the Baptist was articulating the very essence of the Christian life: “He must increase, but I must decrease.”

Anthony Esolen has quoted Tertullians’ famous words that “the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.” He then went on to propose an opposite truth. If the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church, then that means, Esolen writes, “that the sweat of the antimartyr[s] is poison for the Church.” By “antimartyr” Esolen meant this:

The antimartyr is what we are all in danger of becoming, when we forget the devastating and wholly salutary words of the Baptist, “He must increase, and I must decrease.” The antimartyr is not necessarily someone who hates the Church, or who seeks to spread paganism across the land. He is one, as I see it, who testifies to himself – one for whom the Church has become a means for the aggrandizement of himself.[1]

I think that is a helpful concept, antimartyrdom. If martyrs are those who have achieved the ultimate emptying of themselves by dying for Christ, then antimartyrs are those who have achieved the opposite: the ultimate exaltation of themselves.

Where are you on that spectrum? Where am I? It is a painful question.

Confining ourselves to John the Baptist’s categories, we must admit that either we are increasing or Jesus is increasing. If Jesus is not growing larger in our lives, then we are growing larger in our own lives. John knew this, and he knew which reality he had embraced.

Let us consider the meaning of his words.

Complete joy comes only in the consistent lessening and death of self for Christ.

I am struck first by what John said immediately before his famous words about increase and decrease. We find the details of the situation that gave rise to these words in John 3.

²⁵ Now a discussion arose between some of John’s disciples and a Jew over purification. ²⁶ And they came to John and said to him, “Rabbi, he who was with you across the Jordan, to whom you bore witness—look, he is baptizing, and all are going to him.”

John’s disciples, no doubt well intentioned, actually tempted John to jealousy over the ever-increasing fame of Jesus. Their protest was twofold: (1) Jesus was baptizing more people and (2) Jesus was drawing bigger crowds.

In truth, there is not a single Southern Baptist preacher that these words would not have worked on. “Look! The pastor down the street keeps baptizing people and drawing huge crowds!” To any other pastor, this would incite jealousy, but not John. John surprised his disciples by answering with an analogy. He used the analogy of a wedding.

²⁷ John answered, “A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven. ²⁸ You yourselves bear me witness, that I said, ‘I am not the Christ, but I have been sent before him.’ ²⁹ The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice.

Translation: “Guys, I am the best man, not the groom. Any best man who would be angry that the bride walks to the groom instead of to him is a sorry best man indeed! In fact, the best man should be happy that the bride goes to the groom.” That is a paraphrase, but that is the essence of what John the Baptist is saying. Then he says this:

^29b Therefore this joy of mine is now complete. ³⁰ He must increase, but I must decrease.”

It is a stunning statement. It has traditionally, and rightly, been viewed as a summation of the very essence of the Christian life: we must decrease and Jesus must increase. That is, we must consistently die to self and Christ must grow larger in our lives. Put another way, our own glory (which is really just a self-deception anyway) should lesson while Christ’s glory increases.

It is indeed a stunning statement. It is also a painful one. It is painful because it strikes at the very heart of our favorite idol: the self. The statement seems to recognize the perils of ego and self-exaltation. Did John not feel a pang of ego when he heard that Jesus was getting larger crowds? Maybe for a moment he did. Regardless, he immediately subjugated it to the greater glory of God in Christ.

Take a moment and ask yourself whether or not Christ is increasing or you are increasing in your life? There are a few areas where we can actually measure who is increasing and who is decreasing in our lives.

Ambition

Consider your own sense of ambition, your own desire to be greater, to be more successful, to be stronger, more powerful, more attractive. Consider how none of us have to be taught to exalt our own selves. Richard John Neuhaus has pointed out that you can see the rise of ambition in the ministry by looking at the increasingly grand titles that Protestant ministers are claiming for themselves.

Something odd is happening in Protestant groups that used to be strongly opposed to bishops, according to a story in the Atlanta Constitution. Once it was “Mister,” then “Reverend,” then “Doctor,” and now it is “Bishop.” Or more. The Rev. Miles Fowler of Big Miller Grove Baptist Church is now Bishop Miles Fowler. The popular television preacher is Bishop T. D. Jakes. Earl Paulk of the International Communion of Charismatic Churches is nothing less than Archbishop Paulk. Not to be outdone, Jamie Pleasant of Kingdom Builders Christian Center in Norcross, Georgia, is Apostle Pleasant. The way this is going, we may yet see a return to the time of anti–popes.[2]

Ambition is a powerful drug! We are born hardwired to want to be more, and, preferably, to want to be more than our neighbors. Ultimately, if we are honest with ourselves, we deep down want to be God. That was the first temptation of Eden and it is the very root of all sin.

Jealousy

Closely connected with personal ambition is jealousy, a deep resentment over the advancement or increase of others instead of ourselves. Our jealousies reveal how much we want to increase. This, as we have already seen, was the instinct that John’s disciples appealed to when they pointed out the growing fame of Jesus. Fortunately, John suppressed jealousy. It is hard to do, but it must be done. In fact, Christ will not increase in our lives so long as we harbor jealousy over the successes of others. R. Kent and Barbara Hughes pass on a story from yesteryear that poignantly demonstrates the power of jealousy.

An ancient story from the fourth century tells of inexperienced demons finding great difficulty in tempting a godly hermit. They lured him with every manner of temptation, but he could not be enticed. Frustrated, the imps returned to Satan and recited their plight. He responded that they had been far too hard on the monk. “Send him a message,” he said, “that his brother has just been made bishop of Antioch. Bring him good news.” Mystified by the devils advice, the demons nevertheless returned and dutifully reported the wonderful news to the hermit. And, in that very instant, he fell – into deep, wicked jealousy.[3]

A person whose heart is filled with jealousy can never really decrease. In turn, Christ cannot increase in such a heart.

Posturing on Social Media

The next evidence that we are not decreasing is evidence emerging from the modern age. It will perhaps sound humorous, but I assure you it is not. I am speaking of the subtle and not-so-subtle ways that we are tempted to posture on social media. Ours is the day of the selfie. More than that, ours is the day of the hundred selfies, ninety-nine of which will be discarded in favor of the one that looks the best. Ours is the day of the online update that makes us look just a little bit happier than we really are, just a little bit more successful than we really are, and just a little bit more together than we really are.

Lest you think I am throwing the baby out with the bathwater, hear me: in and of itself, social media is morally neutral, can be used for great good, and oftentimes is. I am not setting up a social-media-equals-bad formula. I, in fact, do not think that is the case. What I think, though, is that we are tempted all the time to increase ourselves on social media, to posture, to pose, to project an image that is oftentimes fictitious so that we will be more highly esteemed by others.

I would simply ask you to ask yourself this question: do your social media habits feed into the increase of your own image or do they magnify Christ?

Control

Another measurement of whether we are increasing or decreasing is in the area of control. Are you one of those people who simply must control events and people? Do you find within yourself an almost insatiable desire to be in the driver’s seat, to have your hand on the wheel, to be in the know, to have power, to make sure that things happen as you want? Are you a controller? I am not talking about being a good planner or organizer, I am talking about a spirit of control that borders on dominance, even if it is manifested in subtle ways.

Oftentimes there is something sinister behind our desires to control, especially our desires to control others, to have others do as we want and be what we think they must be. What lurks behind that is the idea that you and you alone have the template for reality, that you and you alone are capable of knowing how things must be. In the process, controllers tend to increase while Christ decreases, to grow larger on their own horizons while Christ is diminished in their own hearts.

Ego

Of course, the greatest measurement of how we are doing is an honest assessment of our own egos. We are enslaved to our own egos. It is something we must be broken of, and only Christ can break us of it. The first thing that must die at the foot of the cross is the ego. The temptations to ego-inflation, to the inflation of self, to our own increase are manifold. Robert Rayburn tells of one such story, again from the ministry.

Jean Massillon [was a] great French preacher. After a service in which he had preached one of his characteristically eloquent and powerful sermons, a woman lavished praise on him. “Madam,” he said, “the Devil has already said that to me and much more eloquently than you.”[4]

Beware the dangers of ego! The ego calls us to increase while everything around us decreases. St. Augustine gave a chilling warning in this regard.

            Will you glory in yourself? You will grow; but you will grow worse in your evil. For whoever grows worse is justly decreased. Let God, then, who is ever perfect, grow and grow in you. For the more you understand God and apprehend him, he seems to be growing in you; but in himself he does not grow, being always perfect.[5]

Amen and amen!

This lessening of self truly only happens when, conversely, there is a magnification of Christ.

Let us note that the lessening of self only happens when there is a magnification of Christ.

³⁰ He must increase, but I must decrease.”

Literally, John says that Christ must “go on growing” while he, John, must “go on decreasing.” There must be a continuation of the increase of Christ and of the decrease of self. The two stand hand in hand: we are lessened and Christ is magnified.

It must be understood, when we say this, that we do not mean Christ Jesus actually and literally increases in His own essence and being. Such an idea is blasphemous and it is not what John meant. The Lord Jesus is perfectly God, complete in all His attributes, and exhaustive in His glory. The very notion that God could actually increase and that such an increase would somehow be tied to our actions is absurd.

No, John the Baptist is not speaking of an essential increase of the person of Christ, he is speaking of the increasing magnification of Christ in his life and in the world. There is a sense, of course, in which Christ appears to be growing larger as we grow smaller, but that is not a literal increase of Christ, that is simply what happens when our hearts are increasingly able to see Him as He is!

In the 5^th century Saint Cyril of Alexandria wrote the following concerning John’s words.

The marvel over his deeds will not be limited, he says, nor will he exceed my honor merely because more people are baptized by him. Instead, he will ascend to a measure of glory that befits God. He must enter into an “increase” of glory and…bound ever upwards to the greater and shine more brightly to the world…[A]s he ascends to ever-increasing glory, I decrease to the extent that he rushes past me.[6]

The quotations around “increase” our significant. Jesus is not growing into His deity. He is fully divine. However, there is a sense of increase when He “bounds ever upwards to the greater and shines more brightly to the world,” when he, in Cyril’s words, “rushes past me.” We perceive this increase as we experience our own decrease. R. Kent and Barbara Hughes have passed on a beautiful example of what this dynamic looks like.

            Is such a life possible today? Of course! Just as it was for Charles Simeon, the great preacher of Kings’ College and Holy Trinity Church, Cambridge. Hugh Evan Hopkins, his biographer, tells that:

When in 1808 Simeon’s health broke down and he had to spend some eight months recuperating on the Isle of Wight, it fell to Thomason to step into the gap and preach as many as five times on a Sunday in Trinity Church and Stapleford. He surprised himself and everyone else by developing a preaching ability almost equal to his vicar’s, at which Simeon, totally free from any suggestion of professional jealousy, greatly rejoiced. He quoted the Scripture, “He must increase; but I must decrease,” and told a friend, “Now I see why I have been laid aside. I bless God for it.”[7]

There it is! There it is! Christ became bigger in that situation because Charles Simeon was willing to become less. Jesus did not literally grow, but I daresay that He never seemed bigger to Charles Simeon than when he determined to set ego, ambition, and jealousy aside and rejoice in the success of this other preacher. As such, Christ became bigger to Charles Simeon. He must become bigger to us as well!

Paradoxically the abandonment of the search for personal greatness and an embrace of the lessening of self and magnification of Christ results in true greatness.

At the heart of all of this there is a paradox. It is this: as we decrease and as Christ increases we are finally able to achieve true greatness. Paradoxically, we become more by becoming less. How do we know this? We know this because of what Jesus said about John the Baptist in Luke 7. As you hear these words, remember the words of John: “He must increase, but I must decrease.” Here is what Jesus said.

²⁸ I tell you, among those born of women none is greater than John. Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.

Utterly astounding! Do you see, church? Jesus said that John is the greatest “among those born of women.” He said this because John realized that Jesus was truly the greatest. We truly only live when we die. We are only truly great when we are willing to become nothing for the greatness of King Jesus! This is why Jesus offered that provocative follow-up statement: “Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.” That is, our greatness increases as our lessening increases! Imagine it! The less we make of ourselves, the more Jesus makes of us! Oh what a grand miracle! Oh what an upside-down truth! At least it appears upside-down in our upside-down world! In the world we cannot see this. We think that greatness comes as we make more of ourselves. But in the Kingdom of God it is the opposite: greatness comes as we make less of ourselves and more of Jesus!

Max Anders writes:

It is said of the pioneer missionary, William Carey, that when he was close to death he turned to a friend and said, “When I am gone, don’t talk about William Carey; talk about William Carey’s Savior. I desire that Christ alone might be magnified.”[8]

Oh, church, may we say the same! May we same the same!

He must increase, but we must decrease!

 

[1] https://touchstonemag.com/merecomments/2010/09/the-inverse-martyr-rule/

[2] RJN, “While We’re At It,” First Things. June/July 200

[3] R. Kent and Barbara Hughes, Liberating Ministry From The Success Syndrome (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2008, p.100.

[4] Robert Rayburn, “Taking Our Proper Place.” https://www.faithtacoma.org/ sermons/I.Corinthians/1Cor_12.1-31.Nov3.02.htm

[5] Joel C. Elowsky, ed. John 1-10. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. New Testament IVa. Gen. Ed., Thomas C. Oden (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2006), p.136.

[6] Cyril of Alexandria, Commentary on John. Vol.1. Trans., David Maxwell. Ed., Joel C. Elowsky. Ancient Christian Texts. Series eds., Thomas C. Oden and Gerald L. Bray (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2013), p.106-107.

[7] R. Kent and Barbara Hughes, p.102.

[8] Kenneth O. Gangel, John. Holman New Testament Commentary. Gen Ed. Max Anders (Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing Group, 2000), p.59.