Deacon Jim Knipper reflects on the significance of Pentecost, emphasizing the call to discipleship and the importance of being present with others. Through a series of parables and anecdotes, he illustrates how true discipleship involves listening, companionship, and understanding, rather than merely giving advice or attempting to 'fix' others. He concludes that discipleship is about being attentive and supporting one another through life's challenges, ultimately fostering deeper connections.

1. 1 Deacon Jim Knipper
05 June 2022 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’s 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 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. With difficulty, they started catching the fish and 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? What assumptions do we make
about others? Is our focus about pointing out how different they are? For the most part, many of us have the
potential of making very good monkeys – but 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:
“Advice-giving comes naturally to our species, and is mostly done with good intent. But in my experienc e, 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.”

2. 2 Deacon Jim Knipper
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.”
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, for 20 years, was being the doorkeeper. Wanting
to do the absolute best at whatever God chose for him, 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 interactions with
them and others. He died in 1957 at the age of 86 and in 2017 his beatification was approved by Pope Francis.
Blessed Bernard had well figured out that his “what’s next” was merely to open and close doors and be present to
others.
Sometimes our “what’s next” is dictated by what life throws at you. Take for example Justin Hardy, who was raised
in the Chicago suburb of St. Charles and earned his degree in finance from the Olin Business School last
December and played forward for Washington University in St. Louis. Last spring, he was diagnosed with Stage 4
stomach cancer. Early rounds of chemotherapy left Hardy’s energy sapped. He lost 50 pounds and resigned
himself to sitting out his final season. But when doctors gave Hardy the go-ahead to play, Hardy decided he would
do everything in his power to help his team reach the NCAA tournament. Hardy said, “This is my life now, which
has changed forever. If I want to live life, I have to choose to put my best foot forward and attack it with a positive
mentality. I don’t feel happy with the situation, but I do with where I am in life.”
His teammate and close friend Jack Nolan comments that “Everyone knows Justin’s incredible story about how he
kept playing,” But what changed me in so many ways was everything he did off the court. How, after a life-changing
diagnosis, he became a better person, a better friend and a better teammate. He was just the most selfless person,
always there with a text message or a gesture, checking in to make sure you’re OK.”
Justin died last Sunday, but his community is now forever changed by his legacy of courage, strength and love
shown to others – discipleship to and for others until his final day.
So what do we do next? What does “being sent & discipleship look like for each of us? For it can be as simple as
rubbing someone’s feet, or perhaps opening a door and greeting one who is knocking, or giving support to those
around you, even in your last days. 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.