What next?! That is the question as we bring our Easter season to a close. For as we gather on this Feast of Pentecost our Scripture focuses on the “what next” in our call to discipleship. So what does that “what’s next?” look like for you? More importantly what doesn’t it look like? Perhaps a bit of wisdom from a monkey, a fish, and a doorkeeper will shine new light on how to respond to the call to go forth and to be sent as the Father sent his Son…and it just may be easier than you think….

1. 16 May Pentecost Princeton, NJ
After 50 days of prayer and celebration we bring our Easter season to a close. And as we gather on this
Feast of Pentecost our Scripture focuses on the “what next” in our call to discipleship. For we hear in
John’s Gospel, the disciples, once again, huddled in the Upper Room asking themselves the same
question when Jesus appears to them. Jesus responds by greeting them with peace – giving them the
gift of the Sprit and then…sending them forth, just ‘as the Father had sent him.’
So now, some 2,000 years later, what does that “what’s next?” look like for you and me? As Paul
reminds us – that despite all of our differences and the fact that we all have different gifts, we are all
baptized into the one body of Christ and, we too, have been given the gift of the Spirit. But armed with
all that, what do we do…or better yet what don’t we do, when we are called forth... to be sent? Listen to
this African parable and see what I mean…
The rainy season that year had been the strongest ever and the river had broken its banks. There were
floods everywhere and the animals were all running up into the hills. The floods came so fast that many
drowned except the lucky monkeys who were able to climb up into the treetops. They looked down on
the surface of the water where the fish were swimming and gracefully jumping out of the water as if they
were the only ones enjoying the devastating flood.
One of the monkeys saw the fish and shouted to his companion: "Look down, my friend, look at those
poor creatures. They are going to drown. Do you see how they struggle in the water?" "Yes," said the
other monkey. "What a pity! Probably they were late in escaping to the hills because they seem to have
no legs. How can we save them?" "I think we must do something. Let's go close to the edge of the flood
where the water is not deep enough to cover us, and we can help them to get out."
So the monkeys did just that. They started catching the fish, but not without difficulty. One by one, they
brought them out of the water and put them carefully on the dry land. After a short time there was a pile
of fish lying on the grass motionless. One of the monkeys said, "Do you see? They were tired, but now
they are just sleeping and resting. Had it not been for us, my friend, all these poor people without legs
would have drowned."
The other monkey said: "They were trying to escape from us because they could not understand our
good intentions. But when they wake up they will be very grateful because we have brought them
salvation."
In our efforts to go forth, how do we respond to those that are different from us? Don’t we often make
assumptions about others? Isn’t it easy to point out how different they are in a way that makes us feel
superior? For the most part, many of us in Princeton have the potential of making very good monkeys –
but do we take the time to note our differences? Can we pause long enough – can we listen well enough
- to experience what it is like to be the fish? Just as Christ emptied himself to become one of us - what
does it look like for you and me to empty ourselves so that we can become one with each another? Or
are we just too busy trying to give advice and fix everyone else’s problems?
Author Palmer Parker recently wrote a piece where he talks about those who ministered to him during a
major medical challenge in his life. This is what he said:
1 Deacon Jim Knipper

2. “Advice-giving comes naturally to our species, and is mostly done with good intent. But in my experience,
the driver behind a lot of advice has as much to do with self-interest as interest in the other’s needs —
and some advice can end up doing more harm than good. Many of us “helper” types are as much or
more concerned with being seen as good helpers as we are with serving the soul-deep needs of the
person who needs help. Witnessing and companioning take time and patience, which we often lack —
especially when we’re in the presence of suffering so painful we can barely stand to be there. We want to
apply our “fix,” then cut and run, figuring we’ve done the best we can to “save” the other person.”
Parker goes on to talk about his dear friend Bill, who came over every day for a number of months and
said little and simply massaged Parker’s feet. He writes: “By offering me this quiet companionship for a
couple of months, day in and day out, Bill helped save my life. Unafraid to accompany me in my
suffering, he made me less afraid of myself. He was present — simply and fully present — in the same
way one needs to be at the bedside of a dying person.” No doubt Bill knew what to do next – he knew
how to be one with another.
Then there is Bernard Francis Casey. Barney was born in Oak Grove Wisconsin in 1870 and was one of
16 children of Irish immigrants. Young Barney felt the call to the priesthood, but at the age of 16 he had
to go to work to help the family. Barney always did what work was available: from being a lumberjack to
a prison guard. But whatever the job, he did it to the best of his ability, wanting to serve his God in all
things. When he was 21 he was finally able to enter St. Francis High School seminary in Milwaukee.
Studying did not come easy to Barney, but after much work he was finally ordained a priest at the age of
33 and was given the title “simple priest” meaning he was not permitted to preach or hear confessions.
But that did not bother him – for he took joy in having the honor and privilege of being able to offer Mass.
Father Casey lived in Detroit, and his main job at the monastery was being the doorkeeper. Wanting to
do the absolute best at whatever God chose for him, Father Casey became a fine doorkeeper, which he
did very well for more than 20 years. Unexpectedly, he became known for his service to the sick and
those who visited the monastery as people began attributing cures and other blessings to his interaction
with them and others. He quickly became known as “The Doorkeeper.” He died in 1957 at the age of 86
and is under consideration, by Rome, for sainthood.
Barney figured out his “what next” was merely to open and close doors and be present to others.
So what do we do next? Maybe start by looking at all you currently do and see what is feeding you and
thus feeding others as discipleship is not measured by the amount you do (only the ego does that). For
it can be as simple as rubbing someone’s feet, or perhaps opening a door and greeting one who is
knocking, or in my case – gazing into the eyes of the Divine when holding my new grandson.
Discipleship can be as easy as just listening to someone’s story, and allowing a fish to be a fish and
swim on by. Because our call to action – our call to ‘follow Him’ does not ask us to ‘fix’ or ‘save’ others.
Rather, it is about being present, being attentive and being able to sit still and listen – the kind of listening
that allows the soul of the other to be one with yours…which then allows us to hear and to be heard and
thus be in a better position to respond to the call of discipleship, the call to be sent forth - the call to
companion the other, exactly as they are.
2 Deacon Jim Knipper