The Revd Canon C.W. Mullen, Saint John Baptist Day

He must grow greater; I must become less…

These words were spoken about Jesus by John the Baptist when he was asked about the relationship between the two. John made it clear that he was the forerunner, and that Jesus was the Messiah. Consider this: It’s not mere coincidence that John the Baptist’s feast day falls just after mid-summer’s day. A mere three days ago we passed the summer solstice, the point at which the daylight hours begin to shorten. One might observe that we’ve had the solstice, but we’re still waiting for the summer! Today is John the Baptist’s day.

So as we observe Saint John Baptist’s day the daylight hours begin their gradual shortening. They wane almost imperceptibly until at some time in late July we notice that ‘the nights are drawing in’. And so it continues until mid-winter’s day, December 21st. Consider this: It’s not mere coincidence that Christmas Day, when we celebrate the birth of Jesus, falls just after the winter solstice, when the daylight hours begin to lengthen. He must grow greater; I must become less…

Today we mark the end of the Cathedral choir’s year. We say farewell today to four of the girl choristers, and in thanking them for their service we have the hope that they have begun something here which will grow greater. The anthem we heard today (Vox dicentis, by E.W. Naylor) was a setting of words from the book of the prophet Isaiah, words repeated by John the Baptist in his role as forerunner to Jesus, the Messiah. It was John’s vocation to proclaim that salvation was near; that God would bring comfort to his people if they turned to him in faith.

Most of us think, consciously or unconsciously, that the world revolves around us; that we are the centre of the universe. We surround ourselves by possessions further to reinforce this view. John the Baptist reminds us that we have no such central position. We’re told that God sent John to bear witness to Jesus, the light of the world. He makes it clear that he is not the light, but that Jesus is. He must grow greater; I must become less…

The failure to recognise the source of who we are and what we have is comparable to trying to see in the dark. We know we’re not blind, but just because we can see in the light doesn’t mean that we can see in the dark. We need light. We recognise that we are not the light, we proclaim that God is. We show that God is at work in us so that others might believe through us.

So we need to recognise our dependence on God, and that as Christians we’re called to bear witness, to cry out. But what shall we cry? At the risk of being accused of picking on the choir, I suggest that what they do here might offer us a clue to answer that very question. The choir offer their music to God, and we simply listen on: our prayers are catching the coat tails of the choir’s, both being offered up to God. We’re given the chance to do what seems to be entirely passive and utterly pointless: to have our prayers caught up in the expression of other people’s praises, to be moved, surprised, delighted, even challenged: challenged because we’re being lifted out of our self-dependence.

It brings to mind John the Baptist’s words, He must grow greater; I must become less… As we notice the shortening of the daylight hours, we can look forward to their lengthening at Christmas with the coming of the Sun of Righteousness. And in reflecting on how we should bear witness to that light, we learn to let go of some of our self-centred-ness so that we can cry out He must grow greater; I must become less…