It's just past Summer Solstice here in Sydney: three days to Christmas 2020.
Sydney is in the throes of a COVID resurgence with restrictions on gathering and travelling for everyone in the Greater Sydney area - right before Christmas. Jupiter and Saturn are converging in the skies of Earth, and yesterday was the Summer Solstice down here in the Southern Hemisphere. It was cloudy and rainy and really not very summery at all. And, unfortunately, my usual group of friends who celebrate the sun seasons with a garden gathering and food and friendship had to forgo our Solstice gathering because of the COVID resurgence taking place in Sydney. We'll pick it up later, during the holiday season or possibly January.
But the Summer Solstice always makes me think of John the Baptist.
In the northern hemisphere, Litha - the Summer Solstice - is traditionally the birthday feast of Saint John the Baptist. There's two reasons for this - John the Baptist, cousin to Jesus Christ through their mothers, was born six months earlier, and since the celebration of Jesus' birth - Christmas - is at the Winter Solstice, the feastday of John is at the Summer Solstice, six months earlier.
The other reason is John's purpose in life: to prepare the way for the coming of the Messiah.
There's a moment in the gospels some time after John has baptised Jesus, when his disciples are watching people gather to Jesus now - a new and greater teacher to follow - and they're anxious and worried. But when they take their concerns to John, asking him to do something about the loss of disciples and his words are simply, "As He increases, so must I decrease."
John understood his place in the scheme of things. He understood transitions. He understood that he had to give up what scraps of pride or social standing he had gained, because he wasn't the Main Event, he was just the Warm-Up Act. Not the King, but merely the herald of one greater than himself, whose sandals he was not fit to tie.
And so, at the Summer Solstice, the days are the longest, and will slowly grow shorter and shorter, until we reach the longest night - Winter Solstice - when a dark world is lit up by the star of incarnation: deity become humanity, very nature God become very nature man.
As He increases, so must I decrease.
This can be harder to comprehend this in the Southern Hemisphere when our summer solstice is mere days away from our celebration of Christmas - or maybe easier - because the summer solstice also arrives before Christmas: heralding the coming of God. And the message has not changed over 2000 years.
Give up your old ways, make a public stand, trust in a God who came in human form - not to rule over us, not merely to bestow knowledge or a kinder way of living, but to serve us in love and the sacrifice of not only his life but his living for those he loved.
As He increases, so must we decrease.
It holds true for us, as much as for John the Baptist.
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, a generous and bountiful solstice, and a Happy New Year to all of us.
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