Hello friends,
This is Mark Gleidman,
Also known as Brother Frederick James,
Your friendly neighbourhood monk in docks,
Welcoming you to Day 11 of our Lent 2026 journey in the wilderness,
Still held as we walk towards Easter through the Gospel of John.
As always,
Let's take a moment just to settle ourselves and prepare ourselves to hear from the voice of God today.
Whether you're sitting upright or lying down,
Just allow your muscles to soften,
Your shoulders to relax,
Your hands to rest without effort.
Take one slow breath in and a longer one out.
Let the breath return to its natural rhythm and simply notice that you are being breathed by the breath of God.
There's nothing at all you need to achieve in the next few minutes,
There's no spiritual performance,
No insight to produce,
Just your presence here.
Today,
We're listening to the words of John the Baptist from John's Gospel,
Chapter 3.
A person can receive only what is given from heaven.
He must increase,
But I must decrease.
Just spend a moment simply letting that sentence rest near you.
He must increase,
I must decrease.
For many of us,
The words can sound unsettling,
Especially decrease.
After all,
Our world quietly trains us to expand and improve and establish ourselves,
To be noticed,
To justify our place.
Even in the spiritual life,
We can find ourselves measuring.
Am I growing enough?
Am I faithful enough?
Am I wise enough?
Comparison becomes the automatic and it's so subtle that sometimes,
Probably most of the time,
We can barely see it.
But John the Baptist models a very different interior posture,
A spirituality without grasping.
He's not trying to cling to relevance or protect status or scramble to remain central.
Remarkably,
There is no anxiety in him.
And so important to hear this very clearly.
Decreasing is not self-erasure.
It's not becoming smaller in dignity or smaller in belovedness or smaller in worth.
It's actually a relief.
When God expands your awareness,
The exhausting work of self-construction begins to soften.
You don't have to manufacture identity anymore.
You don't have to prove that your life matters because it already does.
Take a slow breath and as you breathe out,
Imagine setting something down.
You don't have to force this,
Just allow the image to rise gently.
Perhaps it's the weight of expectation or the need to be impressive or the habit of comparing your life with someone else's.
Let it rest on the ground beside you.
John speaks these words from the wilderness and the wilderness has a quiet way of dissolving status.
Out there in the wilderness,
Titles lose their importance.
Appearance loses its usefulness and what remains is simply presence.
God's presence and your presence within God.
Nothing extra required.
So you might ask yourself very gently,
Where am I still trying to prove my worth?
Don't strain for an answer,
Just simply notice what surfaces.
Perhaps it's in your work,
Your relationships,
Your spiritual life,
Maybe even in the way you speak to yourself internally.
Just notice and breathe.
And now another question,
What am I tired of carrying?
And I'd encourage you to let your body help you here.
Because often we discover the burden,
Not through thinking,
But through sensing.
Is there tightness somewhere or a subtle clenching,
Maybe a fatigue that you've learned to ignore.
Imagine with your next exhale,
Loosening your grip just a little.
And finally,
Allow this question to open quietly within you.
What might grow if I stopped measuring myself?
Not stop caring,
Not stop showing up,
But simply stopped measuring.
If you stopped calculating your adequacy,
If you stopped tracking whether you are enough,
Stay with that spaciousness for a moment.
There's a strange freedom in no longer needing to be the center of everything.
Freedom in letting God be God,
Freedom in allowing your life to unfold rather than be constantly managed.
But again,
This isn't about passivity,
It's about trust.
See if you can feel the difference,
The tightening that comes from self-measurement.
Or the lightness that comes from release.
One constricts,
But the other creates room for breath.
Friend,
You were never asked to carry the full weight of becoming yourself alone.
The truest parts of you aren't constructed,
They're received,
Given from heaven,
As John says.
So perhaps today,
Decreasing simply means this.
Carrying less,
Striving less,
Defending less.
Allowing God's life within you to take up more space.
Take another slow breath in.
And as you breathe out,
Sense the possibility of being lightened,
Even slightly,
Even briefly.
And before we close,
Let's rest again with John's words.
He must increase.
I must decrease.
Hear them now,
Not as a demand,
But as an opening.
Not diminishment,
Just gentle liberation.
And let yourself sit for a few moments,
Without measuring this meditation,
Without asking whether you did it well.
Just be here.
And as you move back into the rest of your day,
You might carry this quiet prayer within you.
May I release what I was never meant to hold.
May God grow spacious in me.
May I live unburdened.
Unburdened.
Breathe in and out.
And when you're ready,
Allow your awareness to return and go lightly into your day.
And may God's grace,
Peace and love carry you and surround you every step of the way,
Today and always.
Amen.
Grace and peace,
My friend.
Until tomorrow.
Bye for now.
