John 3:26-30
What does it mean to be a light but not the light?
When Jesus shows up on the scene, John confidently declares that this is the Light. This is the person before whom he had prepared the way. And he heroically declares that "He must increase, but I diminish." (John 3:30).
Every evening in Advent we turn off everything, and, in darkness, light a candle through the nights leading up to Christmas. Those little lights, fragile as they are, are quite powerful. They push and hold back the darkness of our living room. And as the weeks go on, one is joined by two, three, and four and they shine even brighter. They cannot overcome the darkness, but they can succeed in holding it at bay.
But when I turn on the switch, bringing electric light back into the room, those lights, which so recently seemed bright, seem dim. I realize that they are not as powerful as I'd thought. They have been diminished against the greater light. As we go about preparing dinner, it is easy to forget that they still burn in their corner by the hearth. And do I even notice the difference in the room when their light has been snuffed out?
John was a light. In any other tale, he would be the lead. His story would fill chapters. But in this tale, he was just a small light who came to shine and declare the coming of the Light that would dispel all darkness. And when that Light came, he knew that he would be diminished in its glow. I wonder if he knew, when the tale was told, that he would be merely a minor character—a footnote to the greater tale.
What does it mean not to be the light? What does it mean to be diminished by another's glow that is brighter than our own, to disappear when the time comes for them to shine? Do I have the strength and courage to flicker and struggle only to be forgotten in the corner while someone else shines brightly? Can I live with (if I'm lucky) being barely a footnote to another's story? Can I live with a life that is forgotten, even for the contribution I made in making a way for whoever came after?
Those around him said to John, this is someone you talked about. This is someone who might well be no one if you hadn't talked him up. He is outshining you. He's going to eclipse you. He'll make everyone forget about you.
"Then my joy is complete," he replied.
Can mine be complete out of love for another?
What does it mean to be a light but not the light?
