Beloved, Not Diminished
When Christ Increases Without You Disappearing
We all carry phrases we’ve heard so often
they feel unquestionably true.
They’re repeated with sincerity, rarely examined,
and quietly shape how we see God—and ourselves.
One of those phrases is this:
“I must decrease, and Christ must increase.”
It sounds humble.
It sounds holy.
Yet depending on how it’s heard, it can suggest that becoming Christlike
means becoming less human.
That was never the heart of the gospel.
You are not called to become less
in order for Jesus to be more.
Seen First, Then Sent
Jesus does not reveal the Father by shrinking people.
He reveals the Father by restoring them.
At Jesus’ baptism—before a miracle, before a sermon—Abba speaks:
“You are My beloved Son. In You I am well pleased.” (Matthew 3:17)
Beloved comes first.
Mission follows.
We are not asked to see ourselves as less—or more—but to see ourselves through Abba’s eyes.
Identity is received, not negotiated.
When a Verse Gets Asked to Carry Too Much
When John the Baptist says,
“He must increase, and I must decrease” (John 3:30),
he is not making a statement about personal worth.
He is naming a transition of role.
John’s assignment was to prepare the way.
That work was complete.
The spotlight was rightly shifting.
This is about function, not value.
John does not disappear in shame.
He rejoices.
“My joy is now complete,” he says—fulfilled, not diminished.
What Increase Really Looks Like
Christ increasing is not about replacing you.
It is about revealing Himself through you.
When Jesus spoke of salvation, He often used the word sōzō—
to heal, restore, and make whole.
Salvation was not erasure. It was wholeness returning.
Blind eyes opened.
Hearts restored.
Lives gathered back into love.
Scripture does not point us toward becoming smaller humans,
but toward becoming whole ones.
“Christ in you, the hope of glory.” (Colossians 1:27)
“Your life is hidden with Christ in God.” (Colossians 3:3)
Christ does not shine brightest where we vanish.
He shines brightest where beloved identity is secure.
The more we rest in being loved, the more clearly Christ is seen.
A Gentler Way Forward
The gospel is not a call to disappear,
but an invitation to become whole.
Salvation—sōzō—is Christ making His home within us,
healing what has been fractured
and restoring what love has always seen.
What falls away is not who we are,
but what never belonged to us:
fear, striving, and borrowed identities.
Nothing essential is lost.
Everything is made whole.
Reflection
Where have I confused humility with self-erasure?
What might change if I trusted Abba’s delight in me?
Where might Christ be revealing Himself through healing rather than shrinking?
Prayer