Photo and Commentary ©2025 by Shelley Schurch
Sunday, November 30, 2025
Out of sight, to the left of the photo, is a house and yard beautifully decorated for Christmas. We always thank this several-blocks-away-from-us neighbor for the time and work (and electricity) she dedicates to “making spirits bright.” I asked her last year if she was an interior designer and she said No, she just enjoys decorating their home and yard. I assured her that all of us onlookers thoroughly enjoy what she does so well!
Even though I’m curious, and love to ask questions, I have refrained from asking her about the three little pumpkins huddled together near the back fence.
A week ago they were on the front steps, part of a beautiful harvest display. Now they’ve been sidelined. Not banished, not relegated to the yard waste bin, but definitely sidelined.
One of the online Oxford Languages definitions for “sidelined” is “to remove from the center of activity or attention; place in a less influential position.”
When you mentally skim through the pages of your Bible, who comes to mind as fitting that “sidelined” definition?
Maybe, like me, it took you only a few seconds to think of John the Baptist. One of his most well-known declarations was, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” (John 3:30 NKJV) The “He,” of course, was Jesus.
The beginning verses of the gospel of Mark explain “the beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah,” and how John leads the way:
The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God, as it is written in Isaiah the prophet:
“I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way” — “a voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.’”
And so John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River. (Mark 1:1-5 NIV)
John was the center of attention, a bold and fiery preacher calling for repentance. After declaring some of the Pharisees and Sadducees who arrived to observe his baptizing, “You brood of vipers!” he explained:
“I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me comes one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. (Matthew 3:11)
So maybe John wasn’t sidelined; no one demanded he leave the field of action. He knew God’s plan and his purpose in it. He was the messenger preparing the way for the Messiah, ready to voluntarily move over when He appeared.
It can be hard to play a gracious second fiddle when you’ve been very involved in playing first fiddle. How easy it would have been to let jealousy take root in your heart, and cultivate it and let it grow into bitter fruit. But John chose better, not bitter; he chose the unexpected reaction of joy:
Then there arose a dispute between some of John’s disciples and the Jews about purification. And they came to John and said to him, “Rabbi, He who was with you beyond the Jordan, to whom you have testified—behold, He is baptizing, and all are coming to Him!”
John answered and said, “A man can receive nothing unless it has been given to him from heaven. You yourselves bear me witness, that I said, ‘I am not the Christ,’ but, ‘I have been sent before Him.” He who has the bride is the bridegroom; but the friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly because of the bridegroom’s voice. Therefore this joy of mine is fulfilled. He must increase, but I must decrease. (John 3:25-30 NKJV)
These are not bitter words, but the confident rejoicing of a man who knows he has fulfilled his God-given mission.
I have not confided in our neighbor the fact that her three pumpkins huddled in the shadows by the back fence remind me of John the Baptist. It’s enough for me to quietly enjoy that leap from her yard to the New Testament.
And it’s enough to encourage me to be content with whatever mission(s) God points out to me. I remember a jaunty poem I learned as a child, “Be the Best of Whatever You Are”:
If you can’t be a pine on the top of the hill,
Be a scrub in the valley — but be
The best little scrub by the side of the rill;
Be a bush if you can’t be a tree.
If you can’t be a bush be a bit of the grass,
And some highway happier make;
If you can’t be a muskie then just be a bass —
But the liveliest bass in the lake!
We can’t all be captains, we’ve got to be crew,
There’s something for all of us here,
There’s big work to do, and there’s lesser to do,
And the task you must do is the near.
If you can’t be a highway then just be a trail,
If you can’t be the sun be a star;
It isn’t by size that you win or you fail —
Be the best of whatever you are!
Douglas Malloch (1877-1938), public domain.