This past May, we were proud to see our firstborn graduate from Ursinus College - I thought It would be nice to share these dynamic words from this dynamic speaker with you - I hope you too, are as spellbound....
A Final Word
Commencement Address given by
The Reverend Peter J. Gomes
Plummer Professor of Christian Morals and
Pusey Minister in The Memorial Church
Harvard University
Cambridge, Massachusetts
at
Ursinus College
Collegeville, Pennsylvania
May Fifteenth. Two Thousand Four
Ladies and Gentlemen of the graduating class, I take great pleasure in being here today, and receiving for very little what you will receive for very much. My degree is much easier to get than is yours, and therefore I have every reason to be happy and delighted to be a part of this company: I shall claim my degree for the rest of my life and dine out on it for many years. People will ask me, "Who are you, that Ursinus should give you an honorary degree?" and one could make a number of replies, including that one is a friend of the president. Perhaps, however, the best answer will be that I happened to be at the right place at the right time.
I envy those of you sitting here at the front; for once upon a time I was as bright, as cheerful, as attractive and as agile as you are now. I well remember my graduation day, which seems just like yesterday, and I know that if you’re not careful, very shortly – and sooner than you might imagine -- you will look as I do now, and as the others sitting here on the platform. So, my great advice to you is to cherish the day, seize the moment, hold onto it for as long as you can, and have your parents and grandparents take as many pictures as possible, for the day will come when you will look at those pictures and find it impossible to believe that they were of you.
There is a long time between this moment and picture-taking time, however: I am aware of that, and my job is to fill that time. Think of it this way: the longer I speak, the longer you can postpone reality, because, when I’m finished, you’re toast. I will do my best: my job is to speak, your job is to listen, and, if you finish your job before I finish mine, I hope you will be charitable enough to wait, for I will catch up with you.
In my long and happy career, I must confess that there is nothing that I enjoy more than an occasion of this sort. Weddings are a pain, funerals can be depressing, but Commencement is full of infinite possibility, and it’s very exciting. That’s why all those people on the other side of the red velvet rope have traveled from hither and yon to be here before dawn this morning. This is a case of vicarious pleasure and delight, for we are all voyeurs looking at you, and wishing in some real sense that we were you. Consider the number of false starts and mistakes under this tent on the other side of that rope. What a disaster! Those are people who had many opportunities and who regularly ‘screwed up’ – just look at the state of the country and the world, if you doubt my capacity for analysis. We’ve all made terrible mistakes, and it would be wonderful ifwe could start all over again, if we could be you now, with a blank slate, a full diploma, and a tank of gas, ready to begin the great adventure of life.
Now, I know that some of you are listening, because you know as I know that there is less here than meets the eye. I know that. Some of you are here by the grace of God, and others of you are proof that it is still possible to fool a lot of the people a lot of the time. We understand that; but that notwithstanding, in some sense I’d rather be where you are than where I am. So cherish the moment, hold onto the day: it is downhill from here.
A Commencement address, as we know, is intended to be filled with pious generalizations and advice, and I have a quantity of each for you, to prove that I know how to do this and intend to do it. My advice is easy to give, although it may be difficult to take: I looked in a book of advice for some good advice to give to bright young people such as yourselves, who will not have to take advice from anybody as soon as you leave here, and the best piece of advice I found came from Alice Roosevelt Longworth, Teddy Roosevelt’s daughter, and herself a part-time wit of nearly a century ago. This is what she said:
"
I have a simple philosophy: Fill what’s empty; empty what’s full; and scratch where it itches."
You will not go wrong, ladies and gentlemen, if you base your life upon something as simple and as basic as that, and you will end up where Alice Roosevelt Longworth ended up: dead. There is little you can do about that for that is the fate that awaits us all, but before you die it falls to me to say something that may be a little more tangible, and perhaps a little more useful than
"Scratch where it itches." There are three things I wish to say. Remember, preachers always preach in threes, and it’s not because we have three points, for we have only one point, but we say it in three different ways. What is that? Because every audience, including yourselves, is divided up into thirds. Think of it. There is the third listening to me right now, asI speak; there is the third that is waiting to listen; and there is the third that has ceased listening, and they’re all coming and going at different times, so to say the same thing in three different ways gives hope that they will all get the one point.
There are three things that every college graduate should remember, and there are three points that I wish to make. Here are the three things that you must remember:
1) It is not who you know, but whom
2) It is the second mouse that gets the cheese
3) Good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment
I suspect that these are all well known in your own lives and by your own experiences. If you
’re lucky, there are a lot of second mice in this class, and a lot of people whose bad experiences will soon be turned into good experiences; and on the basis of that wisdom you too may someday have the privilege of giving a Commencement talk. I can’t wait to hear it. There are three things now that I’d like to say to you as you take your places in the larger world and leave this particular place.
First is that I wish for each of you a great calling in life, a good vocation; and by
‘vocation’ I don’t mean a job, although that won’t do any harm to any of you and I hope you find one sooner or later -- I know I speak for your mother and father when I hope that you find a job sooner rather than later. When I say ‘vocation,’ though, I’m not talking about a job, per se, or about what it is that you do to make a living. Rather, I am speaking about what it is you will do to make a life, and in my business we call that a ‘vocation,’ a ‘calling,’ something that makes a difference not so much to the world or even to the community, but to you. A great calling is what I hope for you, and a great man has defined vocation in this way:
"
Where your great joy meets the world’s great need."
Frederick Buechner said that, and I don
’t know of a better definition of vocation. Many of you have wasted a lot of time and many people-hours here at college, studying things in which you have absolutely no interest and perhaps less competence. I know that, you know that, it’s the nature of the world. My guess is that there will be from this class a physicist or a chemist or an historian or a musician, and if those things interest you, fine, and, if you’re decent at them, all the better, but that is not all we wish for you.
We wish for you something that gives you such enormous joy and satisfaction that it defines your life, gives you a sense of being, of doing something that is worthwhile, and that trumps every job, every task, and every situation in which you find yourself. A vocation is that which defines your life, and the great adventure in life is finding what that vocation is and following it. Let it shape your life in such a way that your joy that comes from it may respond to some great need in the world. Where your joy meets the needs of others the magic, the mystery, the absolute glory of a life well lived and worth living will be yours. You
’ve just begun that adventure here,and, if Ursinus has served you as well as I think it has, it has pricked your interest, ignited your curiosity, and you will be restless, as you ought to be, until that moment where joy and need converge, and you discover what it means to make not just a living, but a life worth living. So, the first thing I wish you, ladies and gentlemen of this college class, is a marvelous vocation; and, for as long as it takes you to find it, may you have the time, patience, and perseverance to do so.
The second thing that I wish for you is a wise and lovely use of your talents. I’ve read the propaganda that this college puts out, for it’s a wonderful machine that cranks out all the prose about Ursinus, and the stuff it says about you is literally unbelievable. You are the brightest class that has ever come to Collegeville, you are the most interesting people the world has ever seen, you have discovered the thrilling conjunction of theory and practice, and you will set the world aflame. Well, we can’t wait. That notwithstanding, I suspect that in each of you and among all of you there rests a remarkable talent, a capacity to do things that you have not yet imagined that you can do. You are gifted, talented; there is something in you, either imaginative or latent, ready to move, that will present something wise and good and creative and responsible and imaginative. You have talent, and you’ve excelled here, whether on the fields of athletic endeavor, or in music, or in the creative arts, or in the laboratory, or in the library, or in the classroom. There is something, some project you’ve engaged in, some bits of independent study in which you have discovered some of your talent. So, find that talent, develop that talent. My guess is that, as life goes on, and you go along with it, those talents are going to come forward, for there is something that each of you has to do, and each of you has the means to do it that will enrich the rest of us along with you.
A talent is not simply something to possess; remember, your talent is not yours to command but yours to obey, and when you hear the voice of your talent whistling in your ears, listen to it and follow it, and great and extraordinary things will come as a result of it. Talent is not just skill; talent is capacity ready to be summoned into life, and you all possess it in great abundance. Seewhere this mysterious force takes you. You will be surprised, you will be delighted, and by God’s grace you will be filled with wonder and joy.
Vocation and talent: those are things that one expects to be abundant here in a liberal arts college, and spoken of on Commencement day, and your parents are nodding that this talk seems to make sense: so far, so good, things are going according to script, according to plan. The third thing that I wish for you may surprise them, however, and even my colleagues behind me, for the third thing may seem frivolous to some of you or impossible to others of you, but my dear young friends, I wish you happiness. Happiness. As I look over you quickly you don’t look like the happiest bunch of people in the world; you’re full of anxiety, I know. ‘How long is this going to go on?’ you’re thinking. ‘Will my envelope be empty?’ ‘I’m going home without a job, I’m going to have lunch with my Aunt Mary and my tiresome Uncle Bob…’ You have reason to be anxious: I understand that. There are even some of you who petitioned for a form of student tenure so you never have to leave. It’s like Groundhog Day: you will always be seniors at Ursinus College. Well, what a horrible thought that might be! I recognize your anxiety, but I wish you in life genuine happiness, and I am going to give you a definition of happiness that belongs to one of those dead white males who still find their way into your curriculum here, for which I am very grateful. It is from an old fellow named Aristotle, who defined happiness in this way:
"
The exercise of vital powers along lines of excellence, in a life affording them scope."
Happiness:
"The exercise of vital powers." You have those vital powers; I look at you, and I see vital powers incarnate. Do you know that as I speak to you, you are at the peak of both your intellectual and your sexual prowess? Are you aware of that? Although, by now you are considerably less potent than you were when I came…. You are at the height of it all! Your mind will never again be as supple as this; your body will never again be quite as willing to obey you as it is now. You take it all for granted, but these vital powers are yours to exercise, and my advice is that you’d better exercise them as quickly as possible because sooner than you wish you are going to be on the other side of that red velvet rope, admiring another collection of people with vital powers. Happiness is the exercise of those vital powers, but not just in any way, says Aristotle, but "along lines of excellence" in the best way that you can possibly do it. There is no place for mediocrity or second best in the well-thought and well-lived life. You don’t have to win everything, but you do have to do everything with the passion of a winner, and people who don’t come in first may very well have won in some real sense because they have performed at the height of their ability along the lines of excellence. Is there not some joy when you know you have done something well? You may surprise yourselves. Some of you are even surprised to find yourselves here today! See what happens when extraordinary things happen to you? "The exercise of vital powers along the lines of excellence" – and the finalqualification – "in a life affording them scope."
You are all venturing out into a life thatis real and demanding and full of trouble and opportunity, and the way that you construct your life will help you to find the scope of your vital powers. Happiness is the opportunity to be able to do what needs doing and what you
’re good at doing. That is what Aristotle suggests: scope for your talent, scope for your soul, scope for your mind, scope for your body, scope for your passion—those vital powers that are within you along the lines of excellence. Happiness is not a goal; it is a consequence, a result of all ofthese things. If you say that your ambition in life is simply to be happy you won’t be, for happiness will always elude you. Happiness comes as a consequence of these other things.
So, for you, I wish a sense of genuine vocation, I wish the service of marvelous talent, and I wish for you genuine happiness in a life of great scope and opportunity.
How will you proceed? Will you be assured of success? I
’m not paid well enough to speculate on just how well you may or may not do in life; that is what your reports to the Alumni Magazine are meant to track for the rest of your lives, and I’m sure they will. I don’t know whether you will succeed; what I do know is that you will encounter many frustrations and failures, and that how you deal with them will in the long run determine how well you have lived your lives. Anybody can deal well with success; ask a failure how to manage, and you might learn something.
There
’s a poem that I close with that says that whatever effort you apply may well be the right effort in the ultimate sense of what you’re trying to be, and do, and define. One can be frustrated in listening to the radio, watching the television, reading the papers, and you may think that with your new B.A. or B.S. degree you will not make any difference at all. Who’s going to care what you think about the great issues of the day? What difference will your vote, your thought, or your opinion make in the great maelstrom of life? Well, here’s an answer, from Howard Thurman:
You say the little efforts that I make
Will do no good.
They never will prevail
To tip the hovering scale where
Justice keeps in balance.
I do not think I ever thought they would,
But I am prejudiced beyond debate
In favor of my right
To choose which side shall feel
The stubborn ounces of my weight.
I pray that the
"stubborn ounces of [your] weight" will always be found on the side of adventure, virtue, and imagination, and that what has been begun in this unreal and lovely environment called ‘college’ will sustain you all the days of your life.
Let me close with a limerick, the only clean limerick that I know. We all know,
"There once was a girl from Nantucket…" but that’s not what I have in mind for you today. This is a limerick addressed to people like yourselves by a very wise old man who gave me the honor of being his friend, the poet David McCord. In my last words to you today, this is how the limerick goes:
Blessed Lord, what it is to be young:
To be of, to be for, be among --
Be enchanted, enthralled,
Be the caller, the called,
The singer, the song, and the sung
We sing your praises, and wish you great and glorious lives. Don
’t waste a second. Good-bye.