Joyful Decrease
Author: Andrew Comiskey
December 12, 2021
‘One is coming mightier
than I…He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire’ (Lk. 3:16). ‘He must
increase; I must decrease’ (Jn. 3:30). St. John the Baptist
I’ll admit it--I’m
shrinking. Once 5’ 10.5’’, I’m down to 5’ 10’’ and dropping. I predict a clean
5’ 9’’ when death do us part. But that doesn’t diminish my fire. In truth, I
experience incendiary moments when decades distill into dense oil then combust
and flare like a klieg light. I’m consumed; joyfully burning up and out.
Martyr Fr. Alfred Delp
employs Advent candles as a metaphor for the prophetic life: he sees them as
‘giving light at the cost of one’s own substance, so that one is consumed in
the process…Christ’s mission of light shines so that we too do good at the cost
of one’s own substance’ (Advent of the Heart, p. 53).
None exemplify this better
than St. John the Baptist, whose words punctuate the Gospel (Lk. 3:10-18) for
the third Sunday in Advent. John’s torch blazed a path for, and cast a glow on,
his bridegroom; he burned bright and died young. Herodias hated John for reminding
her that God didn’t recognize her marriage to Herod. Unable to kill her
conscience, she killed him. Like his bridegroom, John endured ultimate scorn
for the joy set before him.
I honor his witness this
Advent by shrinking (as joyfully as possible) to shine for Jesus. We journeyed
to Poland last week where we jested and jostled through the nation, beginning
at Catholic University in Lublin where Pope St. John Paul II served as
Professor of Ethics from ’54-’57. Abbey, Marco, and I gave it our best shot as
we witnessed in a lecture hall then raced to finish our offering in the chapel
(long story). Afterwards, we drove south fast to Wadowice, hometown of John
Paul, where we stepped out of the car and into a Living Waters training, which
was held in a Carmelite monastery/retreat center where the late great pope
received his call to the priesthood! Cold and wearied by the COVID gauntlet, we
combusted with our Polish colleagues who had suffered from shutdowns but
gathered to retake holy ground. These wounded healers are witnesses of how Almighty
Mercy overtakes shame then sends demons and detractors to flight. In the
Spirit, I saw these witnesses join hands and encircle the nation, a ring of
fire that barred sexual identity politics from entry. Glorious. Overwhelming.
Sleepless, I suited up and
ran in the dark snowy night. I came upon JP’s home church and next to it a
rather diminutive statue of John Paul, elevated, with him extending his
shepherd’s crook (in the form of a long crucifix) as to bless any who stepped
under it. I stood there for a few minutes. The Spirit fell like fire on my
snowy self. I felt small, like a child and wizened elder. Both! In the Holy
Spirit, in the spirit of two Johns, I felt Jesus’ pleasure and assurance, the
joy of enkindling: small flames waiting to flare up once more.
I shall burn up, and out.
‘The friend who attends
the bridegroom waits and listens for Him; and is full of joy when he hears the
bridegroom’s voice’ (Jn. 3:39).
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