Grow Up By Shrinking
“He must increase, but I must decrease.”—John 3:30
One scene in C. S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia has always touched me.
In Prince Caspian, Lucy, one of the key characters in the story, is woken up from a deep sleep by a beloved voice. She realizes it is not a dream, so she gets up to follow the voice. Finally, she sees her dear Aslan, the lion who is the Christ-figure in this story.
After warm and affectionate greetings, Lucy, who has not seen Aslan in quite a while, observes:
“Aslan…you’re bigger.”
“That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.
“Not because you are?”
“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.” (emphasis mine)
I love this scene because it illustrates something interesting about the spiritual life.
In physical life, growth is seen by a spurt in height or evidence of fruitfulness—by more.
But in the spiritual life, the focus is different. It’s not more of me, but more of Him.
It is learning to see our big God as He really is.
My Problem—and Yours
I will confess that this is a constant tug-of-war in me. I want to grow in Christ, but I also want to have some control.
Yet growth is not about more of me, but more of Him. And sometimes, the truth is, I trust myself more than I trust Him. It’s scary to put our lives into the hands of another, isn’t it?
But the fact is this: We are merely humans. We are not omniscient. We are certainly not omnipotent.
Yet because of sin, we are deeply wired to put ourselves on the throne. Culture assures us we can follow our hearts, for we know what’s best for us. We naturally elevate ourselves.
Not only that, we, like Eve, minimize God. We doubt His good intentions for us (Gen. 3:1). We assume He is holding back something good when what He desires is our ultimate good (Gen. 3:5).
When these happen together, we get bigger and God gets smaller—and that’s when we stop growing.
The Solution
In order to see life rightly, we must start by seeing God rightly. As we do, we see ourselves rightly.
We grow as we shrink—into our smallness, our dependence. Like Peter before Christ in HIs greatness, power and holiness, we see our utter sinfulness and bow down low (Luke 5:8).
On this side of the resurrection, we are still plagued by blindness, like the disciples on the Emmaus road in Luke 24. The tragedies of life kept them from recognizing Him, even though He was right there next to them. Without Him, we interpret life wrongly.
But the amazing thing is this: Jesus does not leave them there. He invited these disciples to not only speak of their sadness, but then He also helped them re-interpret it in the context of His bigger Story (Luke 24:19-27). As they spent time with them, He enlarged their understanding by opening their eyes to see Him for who He was (vv. 28-32).
This is what it means to grow—not merely in knowledge but in relationship. What we learn should elevate Him, not merely puff up our brains. We begin to see Him for who He really is—and we humbly shrink down to size.
This is a challenge for me, for I love to read and learn. I love the thrill of studying Scripture deeply. I find great joy in communicating God’s truth to others in my counseling.
But as soon as He simply becomes a debate, a standard to train, a cause to champion, we can easily forget that our greatest call is to glorify Him. Even in our good attempts to represent Him well, we can easily water Him down to a more manageable size.
Which is why I am learning to practice one new habit. Every time I read and learn something new, I also pause to thank Him for revealing truth to me. I pause for a moment to marvel, to worship. In this way, I grow, but He is the one getting bigger.
Like Lucy, I want to respond with joy to my beloved Friend. Like the apostle Peter, I want to bow in grief over my sin as I see His holiness. Like Paul, I want to spend my life for Him when I see His glory.
Living In the Shadow of a Great God
We often read Scripture and look for commands to obey, things to do. And we should.
But Scripture is also God’s self-revelation to us. He is telling us who He is. Like Jesus on the road, He is showing us how He is a part of every story. Everything points to Him.
When I read the Bible, I am listening to someone share His heart, His purposes, Himself.
And who He is will impact how we respond. Peter bowed in repentance. The Emmaus road disciples rejoiced and shared the good news.
Because He is my Creator, I am reminded I am dependent on Him.
Because He is love, I learn to see my struggles with my disabled daughter in a different light.
Because He is my Father, I can trust His wisdom when I cannot see the way.
Because He is holy, I am encouraged to face my sin and mortify it in my flesh instead of giving in to temptation.
When He is Lord—and I am not—then life is oriented properly. I begin to live fully into the life He offers to His beloved children through Christ.
But because I am prone to wander, because sin still exists in me, even though it has been conquered, I will still go astray.
Which is another reason why we need to constantly practice our breathing: inhaling Scripture and exhaling prayer. This is the only way we can see life rightly.
And as we do, may we, like Lucy, realize that every year we grow, we will find Him bigger.