Saturday after Epiphany
In these days of the digital revolution in which new technologies (dare I mention AI) come and go, shift and change, transform and re-align our lives on what feels like a daily basis, it’s fun to think about the time of Jesus when writing was a relatively new technology—just about 500 years old. And, in its youth, Greek writing didn’t bother to separate words, never mind include a comma. What this means for translators of our sacred scripture is that they have to figure out where the breaks and punctuation should go, so that we don’t have to work so hard to make sense of it.
That being the case, consider the closing sentence of the reading from John’s Gospel for today: “He must increase; I must decrease.”
Interestingly, the translation on the US Council of Catholic Bishops site, has a semicolon there that would seem to indicate that the two items on either side of it are paired, balanced, or perhaps equal in some way.
In my commentary, that semicolon shows up as a comma and a “but” appears: “He must increase, but I must decrease.” Interesting choices, that comma and the “but”. The items on either side of the punctuation remain paired as in the other translation. Yet, something has changed: “But I must decrease.”
The comma/but version sets me to wondering what John might have been thinking and feeling at this turning point in Jesus’ ministry. John has, after all, been very busy baptizing, calling and organizing disciples, and (in all ways) working to prepare the way for Jesus. He’s no bit player in the story of salvation. On the contrary, he’s been headlining the baptism show!
And yet, he says that he must decrease. He must get out of the way, acknowledge again that he is not the one (which he does in this reading), move into the background, and bow before the one who is (even to the point of death).
Did John feel like he was losing something—his power, his influence, his call—when he realized that, having done all he had done—having even been mistaken for the Messiah—he had to let go?
As this intriguing sentence has rolled around my head this week, I’ve had to ask myself a few questions:
- Do I need to decrease? Am I “about me” too much and too often?
- If so, what would I need to do to decrease so that Jesus can increase—in my life, in my neighborhood, in my country?
- And what might it mean if I were to decrease so that He can increase? How might that change my faith, my life?
Before closing, I want to highlight just one more thing. While translations vary on the punctuation (and that matters), there is an important constant here (that also matters): elattouthsai, the Greek word translated as “decrease” does not vary. John must decrease, but he is not called to disappear. That’s super important. As Christians, we are not called to go unseen, to be ignored. And John certainly wasn’t, even after his untimely violent death.
As I enter into this new year, Lord, help me to discern the ways in which I must decrease (yet remain) so that you might increase in my life. And may I embrace all that comes with that. Amen.
—Susan Trollinger