President’s Baccalaureate Address 2014

Good morning! Welcome, everyone, to the Chapel of the Resurrection and to the Baccalaureate service for the Class of 2014 at Valparaiso University.

After so much effort, so many sleepless nights, so many prayers and hopes, wondering if this day would ever come, here it is. And here you are, surrounded by some of the most important people in your life. Right in the middle of your very own rite of passage in which you are playing the starring role. Or in the words of that timeless children’s game of hide and seek, you are “It.”

You remember what it feels to be “It?” Freeze Tag. Kick the Can. Hide and Seek. Remember that knot of excitement in your stomach as you close your eyes and count 47-48-49-50? You open your eyes. You look around carefully, hoping to spot someone. Then … Ready or not here I come!

Off you go. Searching out all those dark and secret places, trying to find where your friends are hiding. “I see Jacob behind the tree,” you yell for everyone’s benefit.

The way we played hide and seek, when you called out someone’s name, you had to beat them back to home base and touch it before they did in order to actually take them out of play. I was a chubby little kid, so I vividly remember that high-stakes race back to home base.

Some days we would play sardines. Sardines is hide-and-seek in reverse. One person hides and the group tries to find her. As each person finds the sardine, they hide with her until all the kids are hiding together and one person is left. The last person left searching is now “It.” They become the next sardine and the game begins again. Of course, the sardines almost always get caught, because when you put that many children in a small space, all trying to elude capture, everyone inevitably starts giggling and the whole group erupts in laughter. I loved sardines.

I have to admit, there were plenty of times when I played hide-and-seek and failed to catch everyone. It started to get dark and my curfew was near. And I would have to yell, “Olly, Olly, Oxen Free.” I can still remember the sound of that call echoing through my backyard, “Olly, Olly, Oxen Free.” I can still see the darkening sky and feel the dew fall on the grass as the first stars began to appear.

At this point, the English majors, the theologians, and the Christ College scholars are waiting for me to develop the metaphors; the behavioral science students are recalling the role of childhood games like hide-and-seek in the development of survival skills; the historians, the anthropologists, and the cultural studies majors are recalling that hide-and-seek is a universal children’s game found in every society. The meteorologists and the scientists are questioning whether dew falls that early in the evening. The engineers are questioning whether or not I got the rules right, and the pre-law and nursing majors are imagining all the ways in which the players could get hurt. Of course, the faculty are ruminating on the great unanswered questions, like why do we call the principal player, “It.” And just what is the significance and history of those inscrutable words, “Olly, Olly Oxen free?”

But I digress. So let’s return to the matter at hand — the fact that today, you are “It.” This day is your rite of passage, your “Ready or not here I come” moment. You’re done counting down the years, the months, and the days. Your eyes are wide open and you are ready to embark on the game of life.

How does it feel? Exciting? Terrifying? Or merely out-of-body surreal?

Regardless of your current mental and emotional state, you have chosen to begin in this place: the Chapel of the Resurrection. A place built as a monument to Jesus Christ and the promise of new life. A place of hope. A place brimming with light. A place of worship. A place of prayer.

Maybe you are Lutheran, and this Chapel has been a regular part of your Valpo week. Maybe you are Christian, but not Lutheran, worshiping or attending events here sporadically. Maybe your faith tradition is not Christian, or you have no faith tradition. Maybe you lost your faith, or your belief in any organized religion. And maybe you do not believe in the concept of God.

Regardless of your beliefs, your presence here today is symbolic in several ways. It is symbolic of our collective acknowledgement that, in moments like these, we ought to stand before the presence of our Creator, a force much greater than any one of us, a force which we cannot fully know nor comprehend. And it is fitting that we should gather together to sing songs of faith and praise and thanksgiving, and to pray with and for one another.

For Christians, this gathering is symbolic of a return to our baptism and a re-dedication of our lives and our futures in service to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Our presence here today is also symbolic of Valparaiso University’s commitment to faith and learning as a University under the Cross, to be that nexus where Athens and Jerusalem meet, to prepare graduates who will lead and serve in church and society.

At this baccalaureate service, we gather one more time at the crux of Athens and Jerusalem, of intellect and faith, for a final reflection before commencement. We entered to a hymn whose verses celebrate this confluence of faith and learning:

God of wisdom, we acknowledge

that our science and our art

And the breadth of human knowledge

only partial truth impart.

Far beyond our calculation

lies a depth we cannot sound

Where your purpose for creation

and the pulse of life are found.

(Troeger, Praise the Source of Faith and Learning)

And this morning we have heard several readings from scripture. These readings hold great wisdom for you, graduates. They are words to guide your living and your life.

These are texts about virtuous conduct, texts for how we might best live and work in community. Micah counsels us to act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God. (Micah 6: 8) Paul counsels us to clothe ourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. To “bear with each other and forgive one another”… and after clothing ourselves with all these virtues, to put on the cloak of love, the greatest of all virtues. For it is love that binds all of these virtues together in “perfect unity.” Paul exhorts us to “Let the peace of Christ rule in our hearts … And be thankful.” (Colossians 3: 12-17) And finally, Jesus, in today’s Gospel lesson calls us to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. (Matthew 5: 13-14)

Living the virtuous life is at the heart of these texts. The virtuous life. Perhaps this takes you back to your first year at Valpo. What is this concept we call virtue? Aristotle described virtue as the “golden mean,” that balanced point between a deficiency and an excess of any particular human trait. To Aristotle, virtuous living is a set of endless choices on multiple continua requiring decisions that should be “at the right times, about the right things, toward the right people, for the right end, and in the right way.” (Aristotle, 1980)

Virtue is moral excellence represented by personal qualities or behaviors deemed by humans in society to be right and good. These characteristics, either individually embodied or collectively shared, exemplify the finest qualities and ultimate potential of human achievement. Virtue lies at the very heart of greatness. Our most excellent selves are also our most virtuous.

During your years at Valpo, you have lived and learned in a community dedicated to excellence. We strive here to be our most excellent selves, not for ourselves, but out of gratitude for God’s abundant mercy. For we know that it is only by God’s grace that excellence is possible in our lives and in our work. It is only by God’s grace that we gain new insights and discover new knowledge. It is only through God’s generosity that we master and fulfill the potential of our physical bodies and minds and leverage the talents of our colleagues to complete that successful project, to win that important game, or perform that difficult piece of music. It is only by God’s grace that we transcend the ordinariness of human existence and are offered fleeting glimpses of paradise when we love and serve those in need, or in moments like these when we gather for worship and prayer. And it is out of gratitude for God’s abundant and endless mercy that we, in turn, seek to glorify God by striving to live virtuous lives, individually and in community.

How do we live virtuous lives? Certainly we ought to embody the three great Christian virtues articulated by Paul in his letter to the Corinthians: faith, hope, and love. (1 Corinthians 13:13) Faith — that we believe in God. Hope — that we desire happiness, knowing that true happiness rests ultimately in our salvation and eternity with our Creator. And the greatest of all virtues, love — that we love God with all our heart, and soul, and mind, and that we love our neighbor as ourselves. Jesus calls this the greatest commandment. And he commands us to love our neighbors as ourselves. (Matthew 22: 37-38)

In 1 Corinthians, Paul describes this virtue of love: “love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” (1 Corinthians 13: 4-7) A life lived with this kind of love, is a virtuous life, a most excellent life, a life brimming with generosity and gratitude.

Love is not proud. That’s a tough one to take up on this day of all days. This is a day bursting with love and pride. For graduates, there’s the pride of achieving your degree. The pride in what you will do next: a military officer, a graduate student, a great job, life in an exciting or exotic place, an extraordinary opportunity to make a difference. For family members and friends, there’s the deep love you have for these graduates, the pride you take in these sons, daughters, children, grandchildren and the successes they have enjoyed. For faculty and staff, there’s the great pride we take in our graduates’ accomplishments. We all take great pride in what happens here at Valparaiso University and our vision to prepare graduates known worldwide for their knowledge, character, integrity, and wisdom.

Yet, on this day in which we are nearly bursting with pride, the Word of God reminds us of the need to walk humbly with our God, to clothe ourselves in humility, to be the salt of the earth. And so, graduates, as you prepare to leave this place, my final admonition to you is this: be humble.

Be humble. Over the centuries, many have pondered this virtue of humility. The Bible, of course, is filled with references to humility, perhaps the most famous of which is Jesus’ words in the Beatitudes, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5) and later in Matthew 23: “Those who exalt themselves will be humbled and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” (Matthew 23:12)

Be humble. Paul’s letter to the Philippians describes Jesus’ life and death as the purest example of humility: “Jesus did not count equality with God as a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore, God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every other name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” (Philippians 2: 6-11)

Be humble. How does one be humble? C. S. Lewis describes humility as “not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.” (Lewis, 1952) Martin Luther suggests that “true humility never knows that it is humble … for if it knew, it would turn proud from contemplation of so fine a virtue.” (Luther, 2006)

However, humility is not humiliation. In his book, Humilitas, Australian minister and author John Dickson offers this distinction: humility is “the noble choice to forgo your status, deploy your resources or use your influence for the good of others before yourself … the humble person is marked by a willingness to hold power in service to others.” To be humble, Dickson argues, is a matter of choice made from a position of “intrinsic dignity and self-worth.” Conversely, humiliation is living humbly due to the power and injustice of others. One chooses to live a humble life, whereas, humiliation is imposed on others; there is no choice involved. (Dickson, 2011)

Humility takes many forms, and in a community of learning like Valpo, intellectual humility must be especially prized. In his essay, On Liberty, philosopher John Stuart Mill provides an elegant description of this virtue. He writes, “In the case of any person whose judgment is really deserving of confidence, how has it become so? Because he has kept his mind open to criticism of his opinions and conduct. Because it has been his practice to listen to all that could be said against him; to profit by as much of it as was just, and expound to himself, and upon occasion to others, the fallacy of what was fallacious. Because he has felt, that the only way in which a human being can make some approach to knowing the whole of a subject, is by hearing what can be said about it by persons of every variety of opinion, and studying all modes in which it can be looked at by every character of mind. No wise man ever acquired his wisdom in any mode but this; nor is it in the nature of human intellect to become wise in any other manner.” (Mill, 2006)

And lest you assume that this virtue of intellectual humility is strictly a Western idea, Mahatma Ghandi writes, “It is unwise to be too sure of one’s own wisdom. It is healthy to be reminded that the strongest might weaken and the wisest might err.” (Jarski, 2007)

Simply put, Mill and Ghandi remind us that we don’t know what we don’t know, that we should always remain open to the criticism and perspectives of others, always be willing to re-consider and re-evaluate our position, always acknowledge that we can never fully grasp nor know the truth, but must always look to God, the fount of all truth and wisdom. For God is truth itself. And to assume to know the mind of God is pride of the highest order.

Jesus says, “You are the salt of the earth.” We interpret this in our time as our Lord’s call to simplicity, to humility, a lowliness of mind and spirit that prevents us from “lording over” others. Yet, salt in Jesus’ day had many important functions — to cure and preserve meat and fish, to flavor food and improve its taste, and to heal wounds. To those first followers, Jesus’ allusion to salt spoke to the power of God’s people through virtuous living to preserve that which is good and right in society, to flourish, and to heal that which is sick and broken in the world. Those early Christians also knew that too much salt in the earth would render the land useless, unable to grow vegetation, incapable of yielding a harvest. Humility, hearkening back to Aristotle, must be in the right proportion. For Jesus, being the salt of the earth was insufficient alone. Salt must be coupled with light.

Jesus calls us to be “the light of the world.” Graduates, at Valparaiso University, you have come to know and appreciate the significance of light. And I’m not just referring to those precious days of sunlight during our endless months of polar vortex. I’m speaking of God’s light — in luce tua videmus lucem, “in Thy Light we see Light.” Here, in this place, God’s light has brought you greater knowledge. Here, God’s light has made you wiser through the experiences you have had, through your successes and your failures. God’s light has helped you to grow into women and men of character and integrity. God’s light has helped you to develop habits of mind and conduct that enable you to lead lives of great virtue. God’s light has challenged you to be your most excellent selves. And, as you leave this place and journey into the world, it is God’s light that will make you great.

Today, you’re “It.” You are done counting down the days. Your eyes are open. You are well prepared to lead lives of virtue, to be wise people of character and integrity. Now it is time to find all those who are hidden in darkness. Now it is time to become the light of the world.

Jesus says, “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”

“Ready or not here I come,” you cry. And the game begins.

Amen.

Mark A. Heckler, Ph.D.

May 17, 2014

 

References

Aristotle. (1980). Nichomachean ethics. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Dickson, J. (2011). Humilitas. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

Ghandi, M. K. as quoted in Jarski, R. (2007). Words from the wise: Over 6,000 of the smartest things ever said. New York: Skyhorse.

Lewis, C. S. (1952). Mere Christianity. New York: HarperCollins.

Luther, M. (2006). What Luther says. St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House.

Mill, J. S. (2006). On liberty and the subjugation of women. New York: Penguin Classics.

The Holy Bible, New International Version. (2011). Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

Troeger, T. H. (1994). Borrowed light: Hymn texts, prayers, and poems. (1994). Oxford: Oxford University Press