Decreasing to Increase
“Today you will be with me in Paradise.”
“The one who has the bride is the bridegroom; the best man, who stands and listens to him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice. So this joy of mine has been made complete. He must increase; I must decrease” (John 3:29-30). This statement from John the Baptist merits a lifetime worth’s of reflection. We always celebrate the birth of John the Baptist in the month of June (the 24th), making this a good time to do some of that necessary reflection. Every serious Christian must at some point recognize their ongoing need to make their life less about themselves and more about Jesus Christ. This includes even our desire to grow in holiness. We rightly want to grow in holiness and to be saved, but an excessive focus on our own holiness has a way of subtly putting ourselves back at the center. As with so many things in the Christian life, there is this paradox of “losing in order to gain.” Jesus tells us to lose our lives in order to save it and even in the search for holiness and salvation, we must surrender our efforts to become holy in order to more fully cooperate with His plan to make us holy.
The theme we’ve chosen for this year also reflects this truth. Jesus says “today you will be with me in Paradise” in response to the good thief’s admission of his lowliness. “We have been condemned justly,” he says (Luke 23:41). The wicked thief is so focused on his own salvation that he mocks Jesus. “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us.” This man does not actually care about what it means for Jesus to be the Messiah, he sees him merely as a means to an end. It’s as if he says, “you being the messiah only matters if you can benefit me” or “what can you do for me?” This is the attitude of human fallenness, the sign of concupiscence - that we always look for our own increase. The good thief meets this with exactly the right response: “have you no fear of God?” Instead of looking at himself first, instead of making himself the starting point and central focus, he immediately puts God at the center. God is the reference point for everything, so we are right to “fear” him, to reverence him and consider everything in the light of how it relates to God. This is the good thief’s equivalent of “he must increase.”
St. Dismas completes that thought, saying “I must decrease” by going on to accept the justice of his condemnation. When he claims his punishment corresponds to his crimes, he is not really saying that the Roman government is the source of justice, he is appealing to the fact that all justice comes from God. Allowing himself to “decrease” by accepting the punishment of his crimes is what disposes his heart to make the all important request: “remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Even the way he makes the request keeps the accent and the emphasis on Jesus. It’s Jesus’ kingdom he references and he requests no power, no glory, no particular share; it is simply a request to be “remembered.” Truly, like John the Baptist, Dismas is eager to hear the “bridegroom’s voice” not because it makes him more important but because it means he can finally orient himself fully towards what truly matters: Jesus. Having first glorified God by calling for holy fear and then humbling himself by accepting just punishment, he is rewarded with the first thing Jesus says after being crucified: “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” What joy might Dismas have felt in that moment? Despite being crucified and slowly dying, he is rewarded with something only a small percentage of people had ever received on this earth: the voice of Jesus declaring his salvation. This is a lesson that is important for us: spiritual joy is possible even in the midst of immense physical and even emotional pain. Just as John the Baptist was glad to see Jesus’ rise in popularity despite the fact that it meant he would soon end his ministry and be killed, so Dismas can be glad to witness and to participate in the glorification of Jesus on the cross despite the literal, physical pain of being on a cross.
For us who remain in this world, the parallels of these two saints are an important model. As we continue to build up momentum towards the 2000th anniversary of our salvation, we must grow in our capacity to say - and mean it - “he must increase; I must decrease.” So, here are three things to consider in applying this lesson to our own lives:
First, there is the perspective of ministry. Many of us are in some way involved in a public-facing ministry or apostolate of the Church: priests, deacons, church employees, youth ministers, small group leaders, writers, bloggers, media creators, volunteers, etc. Even those of us who aren’t nonetheless share in our Baptismal and Confirmational call to proclaim the gospel. When we take seriously the effort to bring others to Jesus Christ and to strengthen their understanding of and relationship to Jesus and His Church, we eventually experience the tension between success and fidelity. Someone who publicly serves the gospel should want to reach a lot of people. Yet, reaching a lot of people can bring with it attention to ourselves. Think of the kinds of praise received by bishops, priests, and catholic laity who run successful podcasts and video channels. They want and should want to reach more people and the “success” of getting more popular is basically a good thing. Yet, how many of us have watched in great sorrow when one or another catholic public figure goes down in scandal? Anytime anyone is in a position to proclaim the gospel in a public way, they must make their mantra these words of John the Baptist - “he must increase; I must decrease” - and the words of Dismas, “have you no fear of God?” In practical terms, it means being brutally honest with ourselves about the temptations of self-glorification. Whenever we do some kind of ministry and “fail” in the sense of facing rejection or losing popularity, we should take careful note of just how strong our disappointment is. If we’re terribly broken up about “losing influence,” it’s likely that some part of our heart is disordered. Even if we don’t yet “feel” it, we should force ourselves to say (to ourselves) “he must increase; I must decrease” when met with loss of popularity or influence.
Secondly, there is the perspective of suffering for our sins. Even the greatest of saints maintained a keen awareness of how much they deserved to be punished for their sins. Dismas is saved not because he was eloquent or influential, but in part because he humbly accepted his deserved punishment. To be sure, there are many cruel realities in this world and great deal of injustice is inflicted on human beings by other human beings. Nonetheless, in comparison to the eternal punishment of hell - which we fully deserve for our sins - there is no cruelty on earth that is equal to or worse than literal damnation. When faced with suffering and pain and other kinds of awful things we don’t like, it is important that we can on some level say “let this be purification for my sins!” King David famously accepted the ridiculous mistreatment of one of his subjects, named Shimei, in this way. Instead of lashing out, David recognizes that he is a sinner who deserves punishment and that God might very well be using this difficulty in order to expiate his sins (2 Samuel 16). He goes on to recognize that, if what Shimei is doing is unjust, then the Lord will sort that out. This is not to say that we should never battle injustice or defend our innocence. Yet, even when we are sure that we rightly oppose the attacks of our earthly enemies, it benefits us to take a moment in our own hearts to pray that prayer of David, that prayer of Dismas which says “I deserve hell for my sins, so let this suffering be for my salvation.”
Third and finally, there is the perspective of Jesus’ ongoing presence with us. When David was cursed by Shimei, the Lord was present to him for this was a prophetic foreshadowing of Jesus’ future rejection by the leaders of Jerusalem. When John the Baptist was beheaded for his fidelity the truth about marriage and sexuality, Jesus may not have been physically present, but he was truly present to him as he is present to all martyrs who die for the truth because Jesus is the very archetype of true martyrdom. As Dismas is dying on the cross, Jesus is present to him both physically and spiritually because he chosen to be one of us. In his omnipotence, the Son of God took on human nature in a way that allows him to forever share in every suffering ever experienced by any human being who has lived, is alive now, or ever will live. When Dismas says, “remember me,” he bears witness to the fact that Jesus can remember and does remember us in our trials. In the midst of trials, to say “he must increase” also means “my awareness of his presence to me in this moment must increase.” Likewise, to say “I must decrease” in the midst of trials is to say “my reliance on myself in this trial must decrease.” In other words, you are not alone!
To say “he must increase; I must decrease” is just one more way to dispose ourselves to hear those blessed words, “Today, you will be with me.” Honestly, there’s nothing more we ought to want than that.
