I share this with permission of the author.
Commencement Speech at Eastern University by Jocelyn Paul
May 9,
2015
Today is a day of celebration and
commemoration. And it is tempting to take a cue from hundreds of commencement
speakers by invoking the metaphor of the mountain. I could congratulate you on
persevering through “the climb” and reaching “the summit” of your education,
and proclaim that you can climb every mountain which
awaits. Perhaps Dr. Seuss’s final lines of “Oh, the Places You’ll Go,” ring
true: “You’re off to Great Places! You’re off and away! Your mountain is
waiting. So... get on your way!”
But the metaphor of the mountain is
not fitting because Eastern taught us that life is not a series of mountains to
climb, achievements to accomplish, or obstacles to conquer. The purpose of our
education was not to fill us with knowledge, to equip us with strategies for
success, or even to teach us how to think. We did not arrive here as mere
intellects to be rewired, but as persons, made in the image of the God who is love. And Eastern formed us
accordingly, as whole persons, by giving us an education of love.
We have not climbed a mountain; we
have learned how to tend a garden. To tend a garden you must take care of it,
and to take care of something, you must love it. A garden requires patience;
your hands get dirty, your knees get sore, and you must return again and again
to the same tasks: the planting, the watering, the weeding, the harvesting.
Remember that the resurrected Christ was mistaken for a gardener, not a
conqueror, and certainly not a mountain climber.
And so today, our hearts are full of
gratitude. It is a gratitude for the professors who taught us how to wrestle
with and seek the answers to questions; for the friends and family who spoke
hope into our lives when we despaired; and for the people with bright eyes who
reminded us how to delight–how to love– when we had forgotten. It is a
gratitude for the lovely place that taught us what it means to love a place.
What are we to do with this
gratitude? I propose two things. First, we tend the garden, we do good work.
The work of raising families, building homes, and fostering community. The work
of inspiring wonder through the art of teaching. The work of caring for the
sick, holding the hand of the dying, and sowing peace where there is injustice.
The work of stewarding our land, our finances, and our businesses with
integrity. And when there is suffering, the work of bearing it well,
remembering that oftentimes your own cross is to help carry the cross of
another.
Second, we behold the beauty of the
garden and echo God’s joyful proclamation that “It is very good.” We take in beauty and we
“give beauty back.”[1]
It is easy to surrender to the tyranny of efficiency and utility, that
distracting voice incessantly commanding we do everything “faster, bigger,
better, quicker.” But we are not machines; and we silence that voice by seeing
Christ in the eyes of everyone we meet; we resist that tyranny by wasting time
beautifully. It is time to sing, dance, play, and throw more parties. Tell more
jokes and tell more stories. Read more poetry and literature. Wander a wood,
amble around an art museum, and watch a sunset for no other reason than that
such things are good and beautiful. Perhaps, indeed, for no other reason than
that Christ is risen from the dead, life has overcome death, and it is time to
celebrate.
And we celebrate today because our
work is not yet finished: the conversations have only just begun; the wonder
still bubbles up like a stream in springtime; the friendships have been built
to last. And tomorrow, when we awake as graduates of Eastern University, our
task will be the same as it was when we first set foot on this campus: to pour
out ourselves in love
Class of 2015, professors, faculty,
and staff of Eastern University, thank you for reminding me over and over again
that “Christ plays in 10,000 places, lovely in limbs and lovely in eyes not
his, to the Father through the features of men’s faces.”[2] I can’t
wait to see all of the beautiful ways that each of you will work diligently,
feast lavishly, live generously, and love abundantly. Friends, it is time to
tend the garden.
