President’s Baccalaureate Address 2017
Good morning! Welcome, everyone, to the Chapel of the Resurrection at Valparaiso University and to the Baccalaureate service for the Class of 2017.
Everyone looks terrific this morning. Like a room full of gifts all wrapped up and ready for giving. Maybe you have a gift to give to someone today? A set of car keys? A plane ticket? Flowers? A simple memento meant to commemorate the day? An expression of gratitude? Something to trigger a memory? Something to make us laugh?
Gift giving is a great blessing. Sometimes it’s a lot of pressure — to get just the right gift, calibrated especially for the person and the day. And sometimes it’s just plain fun.
Let me tell you about the most fun I had picking out a gift. It was for my dad. Now my dad and I had our quarrels over the years, especially when I was a teenager and when I went through college. We were two stubborn Heckler men and we argued about nearly everything, because we were in that period of life when one of us had to win and the other one had to lose.
But then, I got out into the world on my own, got married, had children. And, you know, my dad got smarter and smarter. And he offered me advice. And I heeded it, because I needed it. And, over time, we fell in love with one another again. Father and son. Son and father.
It was my dad’s birthday one of those years after our rapprochement, and I wanted to make him laugh because I love to hear him laugh. So, I went on a mission to find just the right gift that would make him laugh. Off I went to Spencer’s Gifts to find the perfect present. And I did. It’s a wooden plaque, about 18 inches across. Well it’s actually a plastic wooden plaque. And mounted on this plaque is a striped bass. A plastic striped bass. (That’s a fish.)
There is a little red button on the bottom of the plaque. When you press the button, music plays and the fish’s tail keeps time with the music. Then, the head of the bass pulls away from the plaque, looks at you, and moves its mouth, lip synching the words to the song. In between words, the head returns back to rest against the plaque.
And the song? [Whistle Song Opening.] It’s Bobby McFerrin singing “Don’t worry … Be happy.” Now approaching the age of 90, my dad still has that striped bass hanging on his wall singing away:
In your life expect some trouble
When you worry you make it double
Don’t worry, be happy, don’t worry — be happy now. (McFerrin, 1988)
A little bit of wisdom from a plastic fish.
So graduates, today, you are the gift that will bring delight to all those who love you and care for you. And I am the striped bass on the plaque channeling Bobby McFerrin. Don’t worry. Be happy.
Why? Because there is plenty to worry about these days. Perhaps that’s because I am prone to worry. It comes from being a college president. And it comes from my past. As you have learned at Valpo, context is important.
I am a product of a period of great societal disruption. The 1960s and 70s. When I was a teenager, everyone was anxious. Martin Luther King Jr. and his supporters were using non-violent protest to advocate for civil rights, ultimately leading to King’s assassination in 1968. A presidential candidate, Robert Kennedy Jr., was assassinated in June 1968 just five weeks after his rally appearance here in Valpo’s Hilltop Gym. Major urban centers and college campuses were experiencing unprecedented unrest, largely focused on Vietnam anti-war protests. Four student protesters were killed by members of the Ohio National Guard on the campus of Kent State University. Three days later on this campus, three student protestors burned down Kinsey Hall, which housed the administration building.
In my first year of college, the president of the United States, Richard Nixon, resigned from office in disgrace. Members of his re-election committee were implicated in a break-in and illegal wire-tapping of Democratic National Committee headquarters. Following that discovery, subsequent actions by Nixon and his administration appeared to be efforts to halt or hinder an investigation into the matter. As a young man now out of the house and on my own, I wasn’t sure who or what to believe about what was playing out on the national stage, but I did sense that what was happening was unprecedented and abnormal. Everything was changing quickly and everyone around me was anxious. No one knew how or if American society was going to emerge from what was clearly a set of unique, volatile and unpredictable circumstances.
Graduates, you can fill in your own lists of incidents and examples from your early life up until this moment that have contributed to another period of widespread societal disruption, manifesting itself in school violence, helicopter parenting, campus protests, mental illness, suicide, addictions of many types, and the list goes on and on. And you may sense, as I do, that the number and scope of things that are changing around us seem to be accelerating with each passing year.
New York Times columnist Tom Friedman has a new book out, “Thank You for Being Late: An Optimist’s Guide to Thriving in the Age of Acceleration” (2016). Friedman examines the acceleration and confluence of three trends: technology, globalization, and Mother Nature, the latter of which he describes as the interplay of population growth, diminishing bio-diversity, and climate change. Friedman draws three conclusions. First, he suggests that we are in the midst of a transformational inflection point in human history akin to what happened over 500 years ago. That’s when a blacksmith named Gutenberg invented a printing machine with moveable type that ultimately fueled a communications revolution in Europe and the protestant Reformation. Second, he posits that the complexity and pace of the acceleration we are now experiencing has outstripped human capacity to adapt to it, just at the point when that acceleration is about to take an exponential leap. Third, he suggests that the intractable disagreements playing out in Washington, D.C., render it as ineffective as governments in the Middle East, just at the time we most need effective and cooperative leadership. Therefore, we must look to how we work across differences in our local towns and communities as the model for leadership and governance going forward. Friedman argues that we must achieve the minimum level of political collaboration necessary to develop social technologies and policies that can help society manage through this inflection point, keep our global economies open, and improve learning opportunities for everyone, regardless of socio-economic status, race or national origin, to adapt effectively to what is coming. Right now is, in Friedman’s estimation, the most dangerous time of all. (Friedman, 2016)
Transportation provides a great example of what Friedman means. At the turn of the 20th century, the most dangerous period to be in a city like Chicago or New York was in those years when the automobile had been introduced, but horses and buggies had not yet been reduced. Two transportation technologies, one dying and one being born, operated simultaneously. (Friedman, 2016) You might imagine what it was like driving down Michigan Avenue in those days, or trying to cross the street.
And in our age, we can look at a transportation innovation like Uber, the ride-sharing service, which is still in the midst of legal adoption and societal norming that will take years, only to be overtaken soon by self-driving vehicles and the mainstreaming of other artificial intelligence applications. (Friedman, 2016) One can imagine the potential end of individual car-ownership, not to mention the disruption that may occur across all types of transportation services that have relied upon human drivers, and engineers, and pilots as part of the business model.
And the disruption of automation technologies and artificial intelligence won’t stop with transportation. Two recent books, Martin Ford’s “Rise of the Robots” (2015) and Erick Brynjolfsson and Andrew McAfee’s “The Second Machine Age” (2014), cite Oxford University research that has estimated that 47 percent of current U.S. jobs could be automated within the next 25 years, especially those jobs that consist of repetitive tasks. (Frey & Osborne, 2013; McNeal, 2015)
So, for someone like me, who is the product of a period of societal disruption, there’s plenty to worry about. That’s why I am drawn to today’s scriptural texts.
Today’s readings are all about why we need to let go of what may be worrying us. In Philippians 4, verses 6 and 7, the Apostle Paul writes to the church at Philippi: “6Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
And in today’s Gospel lesson, Matthew shares Jesus’ words with us in Chapter 6, “25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? …27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? …31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 …your heavenly Father knows that you need [these things]. 33 But seek first God’s kingdom and God’s righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”
Context is important, right? So let’s look at the context within which these two passages are written to see what insight we may gain into the reasons why we should not worry.
Jesus’ words about worry come in the middle of what we have come to call the Sermon on the Mount, covered in Matthew chapters five through seven. Large crowds had been gathering, following Jesus and his disciples as they traveled. Jesus saw these crowds and decided to climb up the side of the mountain and, with his disciples gathered around him, he began to teach them. He talked about those who were blessed — those who grieve, those who are humble, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, the persecuted, and those who are insulted, and mistreated, and lied about because they believe in God. For great, he says, is their reward in heaven.
Jesus calls believers the salt of the earth and the light of the world. He says that we must obey God’s commandments, to control our anger against others and to make peace with them, to be faithful in marriage, to turn the other cheek and forego revenge, to love our enemies, to give to those in need without calling attention to ourselves, and to pray and fast in similar fashion, to store up our treasures in heaven and not on this earth, and to worship God and not money. It counts as one of the greatest if not the greatest sermon ever given and perhaps the greatest wisdom ever shared with humankind.
Jesus pauses at this point in his sermon and says, therefore, or as a result, or consequently, we should not worry about our life. Because we have been fed with the Word of God and God’s wisdom, we should not worry about whether or not we have enough food, or drink, or material goods. The Word of God is sufficient for us. And we must have faith. We must trust God, in the way that the birds of the air and the wild flowers of the field trust that they, too will be nourished. God knows what we need and God will provide. Jesus teaches us that the antidote to worry rests in our faith and trust in God and through making God’s work — that is building God’s kingdom here on earth and seeking to live lives of righteousness — our lifelong focus.
Friends, worrying comes easily, but Jesus tells us that not worrying must be our life’s work, and it’s hard, relentless work. Keeping our faith healthy is like going to the gym every day to stay healthy and toned. It takes discipline, and energy, and focus, and sweat, and tears. It takes study and prayer and praise and worship and community and commitment to building God’s kingdom here and now, and in the place you will next go to live, and work, and study. Keeping our faith healthy means that we cannot put off God’s work until the timing is better, or until we have more money, or fewer pressures, or better friends. So what better time than right now, as you prepare to cross that threshold into the next phase of life’s journey, to commit from your very first day to weave your faith training and God’s work more fully and more richly into each day.
Next, we turn to Philippians 4 and Paul’s exhortation to the church he helped to establish in the town of Philippi, Macedonia, the first Christian mission on the European continent. Paul has a soft spot in his heart for the early Christians in Philippi, and he is troubled by a disruptive argument that has broken out among two women leaders in the church, Euodia and Syntyche. We don’t know the cause of the disagreement, but it must have been a doozy because here we are, talking about it almost 2,000 years later. Paul is clearly concerned about the effect their disagreement is having upon the young church and he begs them to stop their feuding, to be gentle with each other, and to rejoice in the Lord.
In the passage we heard this morning, Paul offers us some wonderful advice for how to manage through bitter disagreements that come sometimes divide friends and neighbors and family members. First, Paul says, in disagreements, be gentle; other translations of this word in the original Greek are reasonable, patient, considerate or moderate. In other words, we ought to treat that person with whom we disagree with respect and care, making our need to be right on an issue secondary to being right with one another. Paul says that we need to be right with one another because we do not know that day or the hour when Christ will return.
Second, Paul writes, do not worry, but take your concerns, with thanksgiving, to God. This approach to worry, Paul says, will bring us a sense of God’s peace that is beyond our comprehension. Arguments can come on quickly, especially these days, so Paul’s advice is that, rather than aiming to win an argument at all costs, we ought to pray about it and open our hearts to God so that we might make peace with our neighbor and work through our differences with love.
Third, Paul offers a way for us to engage in right thinking whenever we are in a disagreement. Rather than jumping to that human tendency to find fault with or diminish our thoughts about that person with whom we may disagree, we ought to think about them another way. Let us consider whatever is true about them; that which is noble and right and pure and lovely and admirable. And if we can find that which is excellent and worthy of praise, then we ought to focus our thoughts on those things. Taking the time to be thoughtful about the person with whom we disagree, to consider them fully and richly as a fellow human being, rather than to stereotype or demonize them, can help us enter our conversations with peace and humility and love. Friend with friend. Neighbor with neighbor. Lover with lover. Mother with daughter. Father with son.
Graduates, this day is a day of taking stock, thinking deeply about what we believe to be true — the convictions we hold about ourselves, about God, about other people — and decide what we are going to do about it. Many of you may know the next thing you are going to do — take a trip, go to grad school, pursue a gap year in a service agency, get married, start your first “real job,” set out on an adventure, or move into your parent’s basement and play video games — yet this process of taking stock — deciding what you believe to be true, your convictions, and what you are going to do about it, is just beginning. You may come to discover, as I have, that the process of taking stock and deciding what to do as a result is something you will be doing for the rest of your days on this earth.
In the final book before his death, “Convictions: How I Learned What Mattered Most” (2015), American theologian and Jesus scholar Marcus J. Borg discusses our lives as a triad of memories, conversions, and convictions. Memories he associates with childhood and the process of growing into adulthood. Conversions, he says, are major changes in orientation toward life, including how one understands what it means to be a Christian. And convictions are how one see things now — “foundational ways of seeing things that are not easily shaken.” (Borg, 2015)
I hope that your years at Valpo have helped you to clarify convictions — those things you hold as ultimately true — and that you have undergone conversions that have changed your thinking about yourself and your place in the world. Perhaps you discovered particular gifts you did not know you had and you have found ways to put those gifts to use for the sake of the world. Perhaps you engaged in rich, deep, and loving disagreements with classmates or professors that caused you to rethink something you held as a conviction when you first arrived here. Maybe you came to know and admire someone whose background and belief system was fundamentally different than your own. Maybe you began a journey to love and accept yourself physically and emotionally as a child of God, made in God’s image. Maybe you experienced a conversion from the faith of your parents as it was taught to you into your own Christian belief, born of your own stories of fear and pain and sorrow, the prayers answered and unanswered, God’s quiet voice speaking in those watershed moments, and God’s endless mercy lavished upon you when you least deserved it.
All this is to suggest that your years at Valpo have sought to prepare you for what will be a lifelong dialogue with God and with yourself. You will examine and test your convictions. You will experience conversions, perhaps many of them. You are not the person you were when you first attended Valparaiso University, and the formative experiences you had during your years here will continue to nourish and sustain you as you grow in experience and understanding and wisdom.
I pray that, as you make your way in the world, you will always remember how you were shaped at Valparaiso University. In this place, you learned that the world presents more questions than answers. Here, you engaged in the pursuit of Truth with many others who brought different backgrounds, beliefs, and experiences to that quest. At Valpo, you learned the value of discernment — how to distinguish fact from opinion, how to exercise effective judgement through disciplined assessment. And how to engage with those who may disagree with you, with gentleness, with patience, and with love, even when those disagreements were irreconcilable.
Here, I hope, you have also learned about 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 excellent lives, individually and in community. This is Valpo. This is who you are.
The world will give you many things that do not last — careers, money, possessions. But Christ offers you eternal life. The world gives you lies and deception and arguments and disagreements. But Christ promises you the Spirit of Truth and Understanding. The world gives you fear and worry. But your faith in Christ will grant you peace.
And so, my friends, here you are. Newly minted Valpo grads, dressed and dazzling, and ready to take on the great big world. Your light, your character, your integrity, and your wisdom can be a gift to that world. It will be hard work. And it will take the rest of your life. Don’t worry. Be happy.
And now, may the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Phillippians 4:7)
Mark A. Heckler
May 21, 2017
References
Borg, M. J. (2014) Convictions: How I learned what matters most. New York: HarperCollins.
Brynjolfsson, E., & McAfee, A. (2014) The second machine age: Work, progress, and prosperity in an time of brilliant technologies. New York: W.W. Norton.
Friedman, T. L. (2016) Thank you for being late: An optimist’s guide to thriving in the age of acceleration. New York: Farrar. Straus and Giroux.
Ford, M. (2015) Rise of the robots: Technology and the threat of a jobless future. New York: Basic Books.
McFerrin, B. (1988) Don’t worry, be happy. New York: EMI-Manhattan Records.
Frey, C.B., & Osborne, M.A. (2013) The future of employment: How susceptible are jobs to computerisation?” Oxford Martin (Oxford, U.K.: Oxford Martin Programme on Technology and Employment, September 17, 2013). Retrieved from: http://www.oxfordmartin.ox.ac.uk/downloads/academic/The_Future_of_Employment.pdf as cited in McNeal, M. (2015, April) Rise of the machines: The future has lots of robots, less jobs for humans. Wired. Retrieved from: https://www.wired.com/brandlab/2015/04/rise-machines-future-lots-robots-jobs-humans/)
The Holy Bible, New International Version. (2011). Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.