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I think I know the basic plot of Cinderella without having read the book or having seen the movie by Walt Disney. Robert Fulgham (All I Ever Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten) tells a great story about a kindergarten class that decided to perform the story of Cinderella. There are a lot of characters in the story, but you can imagine the role a five-year-old would want. All the girls, of course, wanted to be Cinderella. I suppose the boys thought they should be Prince Charming. Finally all the children were assigned roles, except one, a small tubby kid named Norman.
The teacher asked, "Norman, what are you going to be?"
"Well," said Norman, "I think I will be the pig."
The teacher said, "Norman, there is no pig in the story of Cinderella."
And Norman said, "Well, there is now."
The teacher could tell it would be senseless to argue, so she left it to Norman to decide what role a pig played in the Cinderella story.
As it turned out, the pig went everywhere that Cinderella went and did whatever Cinderella did.
Norman had nothing to say, but Norman's face reflected the action of the drama. When things were serious, he was serious. When things looked worrisome, he looked worried; when things were in doubt, he looked anxious. He began to fill the stage with his presence of response by simply sitting there. And at the end of the performance when the princess was carried off to live happily ever after, Norman stood on his hind legs and barked.
In rehearsal, this had been troublesome because the teacher said, "Look, Norman, even if there is a pig in this story, pigs do not bark."
And Norman said, "Well, this one does."
You can imagine what happened the night of the performance. There was a standing ovation at the end of the show for the pig. Norman, the barking pig, was, as it turns out, the Cinderella in the story after all.
Word got around, and people called up the teacher and said, "We hear you have this dynamite Cinderella thing. What is so special about it?"
She said, "Well, there is a pig in it -- actually a barking pig."
And the person on the other end of the telephone would say, "But there is no barking dog or pig in Cinderella." And the teacher would say with great conviction, "Well there is now."
Fulgham told this story to the graduating class of Smith College in North Hampton, Massachusetts, in May of 1991. I don't know his point in telling the story to college graduates, but I can guess. Don't let others set the boundaries around your imagination... even if others think it's foolish.
As disciples of Jesus, do we use our imagination, or do we play it safe? I've been asking myself that question as
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of late. By all appearances, things are going well for me at this time in my life. I enjoy priesthood and being pastor at St. John's to a wonderful community. I think our parish is second to none in the Archdiocese. But the "soul" doesn't put much stock in appearances! The soul, that deepest part of ourselves, the part that will live forever, wants us to live our own unique life, not somebody else's life. I've been wrestling with the question, "Is the life I'm living the same as the life that wants to live in me?"
There is an old Quaker admonition, "Let the highest truths and values guide everything you do." Am I being true to the truths and values I believe in as a disciple of Jesus? Do I need to be more like Norman, the barking pig? Is discipleship only about being good and not taking risks for our Gospel beliefs? Of course there is a place for caution... after all, we have common sense. Reckless and foolish behavior is simply reckless and foolish.
But do you ever believe that God challenges us, or that the Gospel challenges us to step out of our comfort zones? Marv Levy, the former coach of the Buffalo Bills once said, "You have to take some chances. If Michelangelo wanted to play it safe, he would have painted the FLOOR of the Sistine Chapel!" Not only do God's and Jesus' teachings challenge us, but we must allow ourselves to be challenged by our true self, by our soul. If I hadn't listened to my true self at the age of twenty, I'd probably be a millionaire instead of a priest. But would it have been my true life calling?
We're called to believe in ourselves and not to be afraid of life, not to doubt life. Jesus calls His followers to live the abundant life... which is about more than wealth, power, winning at competition, or a great career. The Twelve Apostles realized that and left everything to follow Jesus. To put it rather simply, they were like Norman, the barking pig. I think the times we live in call us to be barking pigs.
If you think this B.I.F. column is nonsense, that's okay. But if one of you wants to join me in becoming a barking pig...
Fr. Bill
Editor's Note: Father Bill is taking a group to the Holy Land, Mar. 27 - Apr. 5, 2006; brochures in Plaza kiosks.
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