This Sunday at church, the worship team led the congregation in a song that contained a familiar chorus:
- More of You, Lord, and less of me
That phrase and its variations is common to the religious lexicon, found in dozens of praise and spiritual 
pop songs, basic Christianese. But, apart from the sappy emotionalism it can evoke, what does it really mean?
Does it mean that I am a bad person and that the less I am myself the better off I’ll be?
Sure, John the Baptist said, “He must increase and I must decrease” (John 3:30), but the context clearly had to do with prophetic roles (John was the forerunner to Christ and relinquishing his mantle to Someone greater). The apostle Paul talked often about “Christ in you” (Col. 1:27) putting off our “old self” (Eph. 4:22) and being “filled with the Spirit” (Eph. 5:18). So clearly there is a sense that I must release something in me and embrace something I am not.
Question: Wouldn’t this make me less, not more, myself? Or is the other way around?
The greatest people I know, the ones I would most like to emulate, are uniquely themselves; they have embraced the essence of their God-given giftedness and individuality. This idea of “unique selves” is intrinsic to the Christian worldview.
So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. (Genesis 1:26 NIV)
Each one of us is uniquely “God-like,” or if you prefer, “like God.” So when we sing, “More of You and less
of me,” aren’t we denying something central to who we are? Of course, you need “more of God.” But, being that you’re fused with his DNA, you also need “more of you” — at least, THE REAL YOU.
Yet Christians are to be emptied, you say, vessels that can be filled with God’s presence. Great. Amen. But it begs the question. For what would a person look like who was completely empty? I’d contend they would look like themself.
There’s truth to the fact that we are more of us when we are less of us — at least, we are more of who we are meant to be when we aren’t full of ourselves. But what “self” should I be less of? And in being “less myself” ain’t it possible that I’m being “less like God”? Now I’m confused.
Oh well, maybe it’s hair-splitting, an exercise in semantics. But which one of me is asking the question?
I think you suffer from the same affliction I have. Over-analyzationitis. Words mean things, but sometimes they don’t mean what they mean. They mean what the masses think they mean. I think – yeah, that’s what I mean.
I have concluded (and I hope) that the masses don’t think that we all have to be clones of each other in thought, appearance, and everything else. This often leads to marching lock-step with each other as we follow some charismatic leader off the cliff of righteousness.
This often leads to a feeling of guilt for being an individual.
I beleive and hope that the true nature of that phrase deals with our humanistic desires. I offer you this rudimentary translation:
More of (your pureness of heart, love, selflessness, servanthood, etc.) less of (my hedonistic, selfish, self-righteous, uncaring, borderline disdain for all of mankind except a few people around me who deserve my kindness—attitude.)
Then again, I could be wrong. But I’m too egotistical to admit it. ( oh, boy. quick prayer. More of you, less of me.)
-dayle
I don’t particularly like the song, but I’m weird.
That said, I guess it depends on what the rest of the song (and I don’t remember all the words) is saying.
It would likely be acceptable in that we’re wanting our will to conform to that of Christ’s. But you do have a point: Like-mindedness is the way the church should operate.
Sidenote: I made a link to your blog on my blog, just so you know. If you want me to take it off, say the word.
There’s a spotlight. I like it shining squarely on me, but it belongs on HIM. I think it means I keep doing what I’m doing– writing– but with less need for atta-girls and personal praise, and more motivation of bringing God glory and blessing my audience. I’m being me to the fullest- writing because I was designed to write, doing what fills me with pleasure… but it’s not about me.
Hey speaking of songs, remember hte one we sang it Dallas last year? “Jesus, here I am, your favorite one…” Did it bug you as much as it bugged me? I had a hard time singing that I’m God’s favorite one. Especially when the Bible says God doesn’t show favoritism.
I recently went through…okay, I’m still in process of going through a situation that is forcing me to look at this very subject.
I hurt someone. I completely blew this person out of the water. He is a spiritual baby. I tried to be careful, and I didn’t set out to hurt him, but I did.
I had warned him that what he saw and labeled as “wonderful” “my mentor” “lovely” wasn’t really something that made me comfortable because — well — because I know it’s not true of me. The deep me with the shifting shadows.
And this scenario is not unusual in my life. I have a habit of not meeting others expectations.
If I could just get rid of the humaness within me, I wouldn’t trip people in their faith, right? Maybe that’s not it. Maybe it’s in letting Him fill those areas of shifting shadows.
To Kelly,
I have warned new Christians not to have any mentors. I believe mentors can only lead to trouble. They will either fail them by example or fail to meet their needs. The clearest example is the pastor gone bad. He often takes half the congregation with him becuase they looked at him and not at Him. No man should replace the mentoring of the Holy Spirit. Think of your role as a tour guide. One who knows where the pitfalls lie. Not as someone to emulate or put on a pedestal. In other words, you’re both wearing the same uniform.
I’m not saying you can’t have a deep respect for someone, but it should probably be done from afar.
My heros are the humble. Such as Billy Graham. Because he would be the first to say don’t look at me, I’m just a man. Look at the One who is in me.
I am similarly complimented almost on a daily basis. The temptation for me is to believe it. But then I try to remind myself — they are seeing me through the prism of broken lives or the bad around them. Once they compare me to Jesus, they will see that I am as flawed as they are. But the One who is in me is not.
hope this helps,
dayle
Dayle,
So how do you handle this? I warned him, repeatedly, steered him to the Bible. My husband steered him to God. We both told him that his primary relationship was with God, that we were human and would disappoint him that we couldn’t be God in his life.
How do you encourage someone to listen to God, yet still be a tour guide?
This calls for practical application. Please.
Kelly,
I may have only enough information to be dangerous, but…
If you are doing your part as described above, the problem may be with the other party.
Maybe they are not looking for God. Maybe they are looking for something only a human would give them under the guise or excuse of looking for God. (think co-dependancy) You can only lead a horse to water.
Tour guide might be too strong a metaphor. How about — We are both walking the same path, I’ve just been walking longer than you have, so I have stumbled already.
I think the best thing you can do is keep it real. Don’t oversell.
To touch on something else that you said…
Let’s face it, we all put on a mask of our perfect self when we first meet someone. I try to avoid that tendency with great failure.
I take some of the compliments as proof that I am doing God’s work. (see, there I go again.) I meant that God is working through me.
The fact is: we can’t all be the worst humanity has to offer. Some of us are good. Some of us are better than others. The kicker is: Do I act that way toward others. Fulfillment as opposed to Pride.
The reality is: Billy Graham is better than me. My friend Rebecca is better than me. But they don’t act like it. They treat me as an equal. We are walking the path together. They are not Proud, they are thankful and their reward is Joy.
I would love to hear what Mike thinks about this.
-dayle
dayle, I love your paraphrase:
“More of (your pureness of heart, love, selflessness, servanthood, etc.) less of (my hedonistic, selfish, self-righteous, uncaring, borderline disdain for all of mankind except a few people around me who deserve my kindness—attitude.)”
Perhaps I can run a few more songs by you?
Remade, I’d be honored to be included on your site and appreciate the opportunity. . .unless you’re just looking for comedy relief. (Although I’ve been known to provide that too, on occasion.) And yeah, Janet, I thought that song was cheesy. But being I’ve been in Protestant churches almost thirty years — and led worship for about ten of them — I’ve learned to tolerate a lot of shallow, sappy, theologically lame songs.
i love your hair-splitting semantics 😉
i love the way you wound up this ball of yarn … or unwound it 😉
perhaps, over time, becoming “more of God” and “less of me” has been becoming more of the unique, individual God created me to be before the foundation of the world … and less what i, in my limited imagination, could want to create me to be.
“I’ve learned to tolerate a lot of shallow, sappy, theologically lame songs.” … good to know our “tolerance levels, isn’t it! 😉
Janet — I had the same issues with the song. About half my table did, actually.
Mike — I’ll make fun of you later. 😉 Teasing.
Why tolerate lame songs? I always figured God wasn’t impressed with me singing a song when the lyrics were, for me, a lie. I don’t believe I’m Jesus’ favorite; so I can’t say that. I don’t care for the song “I am a friend of God,” even if the line is true, so I don’t imagine God’s very honored with me saying things I don’t mean.
I will say one thing: This whole post depends on your perspective of “more of you, less of me.” You’re most likely right, and it’s a misinterpretation of John 1.
However, you could also say “Well, it’s reference to denying yourself every day.” I don’t know the song, so I honestly can’t say.
I like dayle’s paraphrase! Bingo! Right on!
But, Mike, I like your humoristic approach to analyzing the words.
I have to confess that I count myself as pretty fortunate with regard to not having to endure many sappy theologically lame songs during 20 years of worship. Our worship leader is very discerning and whenever there is a question it goes to the Pastor for his approval.
Having been on our worship team for several years I have gained much more appreciation for what IS worship and what is NOT worship.
Start by throwing out all the songs about ME and we’re heading in the right direction. Worship is about God.
I’m not sure we should tolerate shallow, sappy, theologically lame songs. Is that not a blemished offering which is unfit? As scripture says, would we offer such a thing to our govenor or earthly king? If not, why would we consider presenting a blemished sacrifice to our King?
God forgive us that we would dare.
I would dare say it is better to not join in singing such a thing in a “worship” service.
I’ve learned to refrain from that refrain. 🙂
Ok. I’m off my soapbox. :*)
David, thanks for noticing my “humoristic approach to analyzing the words.” Parody and snarkasm have become, for me, a survival skill. Without them, I would surely descend into abject cynicism.
I’m so glad to know there were others who had issues with that song. I thought I was alone in that.
So, Mike, here’s a chance for us to find out more about the you who is you. Tag, you’re it. Well, that is, if you want to play. I tagged you and seven others to post a random 8 facts about yourself. See the rules at A Christian Worldview of Fiction.
Becky
We become more ourself when we take the focus off ourself and focus on others. Navel gazing only shows you lint.