The Power of Positive Shrinking

Legendary golfer Ben Hogan was once asked by a newspaper reporter, “Ben, what do you look for when you’re looking to hire a new caddie?” Ben took a draw from his trademark Chesterfield cigarette and tersely replied, “Three things: Show up, keep up, and shut up.”

Although Hogan had a reputation in the media for his surly disposition, his attitude about professional caddies was a fairly common one back in his day, especially among some of the game’s bigger names. Carrying the bag of a world-class pro golfer, like Tiger Woods for example, naturally comes with a bit of fanfare and celebrity, and that’s especially true today since the sport is played and televised pretty much year-round. It would be awfully easy for a caddie to make the selfish mistake of wandering too far inside the spotlight of his star player. If there’s one thing a pro golfer dislikes more than anything it’s distraction, and a caddie who thinks he’s just as much a part of the show as his employer easily becomes one.

It is also true however that caddies play more of a meaningful role than most people realize. At the pro level, it’s much more than just packing bags, cleaning clubs, and raking bunkers. In fact, many of them play the role of sports psychologist, trying to keep their players emotionally calm, encouraged, and confident. The player-caddie relationship is very important to their overall success.

When I think about John the Baptist, I kinda think of him in a similar light as this player-caddie dynamic with Jesus. Well, except that part about shutting up. After all, his primary mission as a messenger of Jesus’ coming ministry was to show up, keep up, and speak up through his preaching. The entire reason for his existence was to fill that role as God’s prophet. But John also knew what his role required. He was there to make the way for Jesus, not to get in the way of Jesus by sharing the limelight.

John (the Baptist) testified to his mission in John 3:28-30. “You yourselves know how plainly I told you, ‘I am not the Messiah. I am only here to prepare the way for him….’” “He must become greater and greater, and I must become less and less.” – John 3:28; 30 (NLT)

In the backdrop of all this is the reality that John actually had many more disciples than Jesus himself did at that time. A lot of people were coming to hear John preach, and many of them repented and were being baptized. And now he was tasked with referring all of them to the One whom he himself had come to make way for. Although I’m certain that he was beside himself with excitement and joy, I wonder if perhaps on some level he might’ve felt a tinge of sadness that his work was all but over?

John would indeed become “less and less” and in no small part due to King Herod. This strange man who dressed in camel-haired clothes, whose diet consisted of honey and locusts, who had come to preach about the coming Messiah who would radically change the religious landscape forever, would be thrown in prison for the better part of Jesus’ ministry and die there. And in Luke’s gospel, Jesus tells us there will never be another like John.

“What kind of man did you go into the wilderness to see? Was he a weak reed, swayed by every breath of wind? Or were you expecting to see a man dressed in expensive clothes? No, people who wear beautiful clothes and live in luxury are found in palaces. Were you looking for a prophet? Yes, and he is more than a prophet. John is the man to whom the Scriptures refer when they say, ‘Look, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, and he will prepare your way before you.’ I tell you, of all who have ever lived, none is greater than John. Yet even the least person in the Kingdom of God is greater than he is!” (7:24-28).

Very few of us, if we’re honest, would choose to be part of the supporting cast rather than playing the role of lead actor. And yet that’s precisely what Jesus demands of us if we’re to be his disciples. So perhaps we should give considerable thought about what that truly means.

Earlier this week was the 79th anniversary of the death of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German Christian theologian known for his outspokenness against the Nazis. He was hanged in a concentration camp in Flossenburg, Germany on April 9th, 1945.

In his book written years before his death, aptly entitled, “The Cost of Discipleship,” Bonhoeffer wrote, “The first call every Christian experiences is the call to abandon the attachments of this world.”

On the surface, Jesus’ invitation doesn’t sound overly attractive to us. Who would choose to give up comfort for hardship, or security for uncertainty, or self-preservation for self-denunciation? When we consider the invitation Jesus gave to the Twelve, they chose to follow a Teacher who told them that the costs would be great. And history testifies to the accuracy of his words, as nearly all of them would lose their lives because they responded to his invitation.

Most of us will not be required to suffer physical death like John the Baptist, the Twelve, or Dietrich Bonhoeffer because we’ve accepted Jesus’ invitation to follow him. It’s not likely that many of us will even be required to leave our families, friends, and jobs behind.

But what if it did? Is there a limit to how far we’re willing to go? Are there attachments in this life that are just too important to abandon completely in exchange for what Jesus promises? Are we willing to give up our glory and our limelight by making ourselves less and less so that Jesus can become greater and greater?

I think it would be good for us to spend some time today thinking about these things. Perhaps it will spur on some thought about what our mission in life is too.