The Son of God has come and has given us discernment to know the one who is true. He must increase; I must decrease.

Today’s readings invite us to the grace of discernment—the quiet, Spirit-given ability to recognize what is of God and to surrender ourselves to what is true. The Son of God has come, Saint John tells us, not only to save us, but to give us understanding, so that our lives may be rooted in truth rather than illusion. The First Letter of John speaks with serene confidence: “We know that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.” This confidence is not born of control, but of communion. When our hearts are aligned with God’s will, prayer becomes less about demanding answers and more about consenting to God’s life within us. True discernment begins here, learning to desire what God desires, to see our lives through the light of Christ rather than through fear, ego, or self-interest. John goes further, reminding us that the Son of God has given us discernment “to know the one who is true.” In a world crowded with competing voices, false promises, and subtle idols, this is a priceless gift. Discernment allows us to distinguish between what merely attracts and what truly gives life; between what inflates the ego and what deepens love. That is why the letter ends with a sober exhortation: “Children, be on your guard against idols.” Anything—success, recognition, power, even ministry—that takes the place of God can quietly lead us away from truth. The Gospel places before us a living icon of discernment and humility in the person of John the Baptist. When his disciples grow anxious because Jesus is drawing larger crowds, John does not compete, compare, or cling to relevance. Instead, he speaks words that reveal a heart fully surrendered to God’s plan: “No one can receive anything except what has been given from heaven.” John knows who he is—and who he is not. He is not the Christ; he is the friend of the bridegroom. His joy is not diminished by Jesus’ success; it is completed by it. “He must increase; I must decrease.” These words are not a confession of failure but a proclamation of freedom. To decrease is not to disappear; it is to make room. It is to allow Christ to take center stage in our lives, our ministries, our relationships. When Christ increases, truth becomes clearer, love becomes deeper, and joy becomes more complete. Today, the light that has risen in the darkness invites us to ask: What must increase in my life—Christ’s voice, Christ’s will, Christ’s love? And what must gently decrease—my need for control, recognition, or certainty? Guided by the discernment given by the Son of God, may we choose the one who is true, and like John the Baptist, find our joy made complete.