Values

It feels good to be here this afternoon, with this graduating class, their families friends, teachers. It feels good to be a part of this time of passage in the lives not just of the graduates, but of all of us really.

I suppose that I run something of a risk of sounding trite, cliché by using that as my opening line. But so be it. It is the only opening that fits. Because it is a pleasure to be here. I feel very close to this senior class, and their graduation will indeed be a time of passage for this school, and for me personally. These young men and women have provided Shanley with some fine moments over the past few years. They have been generous with their talents, and their time. Fine moments in the classroom, on the playing fields, on the stage, in debate, in school organizations. And most powerfully of all, perhaps, moments gathered around the altar. I have fine memories, strong images of the times we spent there, gathered not only as an academic, or social community, but as a community of faith, a gathering of believers. I remember very clearly a conversation I had with a man the evening before our last school Mass this year, on Ascension Thursday. A man, I suppose about my own age. I knew him well some years ago. He had been a person of strong faith, high ideals. He had always set demanding standards for himself and for the world around him. But somehow in the time since we had last met, he had grown weary, disillusioned. He had become cynical about the future of our country, our Church. He said he saw no promise in that future, no pledge of faithfulness, little hope that what had been so well begun would ever be continued.

And I thought of that conversation the next morning as we gathered in the auditorium to celebrate the Holyday, the great feast of the Ascension, Christ's own pledge that a life of faith holds infinite promise. And I remember wishing that that unhappy man could have been there with us. I think it would have set his mind at ease. I suppose I was especially aware of the seniors that morning. But as I listened to members of this class read, and lead the music, as I saw them coming up to take the Eucharist, I thought, "No, my friend, you are wrong. There is great promise in the future. Nothing has been wasted, nothing has been lost. And if we have grown a little tired, if our vision has lost something of its clarity, theirs has not. The future will be well served, by these."

Strong moments, offered to us by this class. And their graduation will be a time of passage for Shanley.

And their graduation will be a time of passage for me personally. These were my first students at Shanley, and they have been my last as well. When I came here, three years ago, I was assigned to teach sophomore and Junior religion. The next year, it was juniors and seniors. This year just seniors. And the constant in all of this movement, was this class. I sort of followed them through the school.

The first year, of course was just boys. Sophomore as well as freshman religion class was still segregated then. So every morning, beginning at 8:05 I would walk into a room full of sophomore boys, and close the door behind me. An hour later I would sort of stagger out, recuperate for a few minutes, and then start over again second period. It was quite a year. On paper, I was there as a teacher, but in fact I was as much a learner as any one else in the room. I learned a lot, I think. It was not a quiet room by any stretch of the imagination. My cane, for example, disappeared a total of 427 times that year. Fortunately, it was also re-appeared a total of 427 times.

The following year the girls joined the classes. I am not sure if that was the reason, or if it was simply because the year between sophomore and junior is always a time of change, but junior year felt different. In the classroom and in the corridor there was the beginning of a feeling of movement. Something had begun to change. Minds were sharper now, questions posed more probing. There was a growing confidence in one's own ability to bring real skills to bear on real issues. More questions were raised than were answered, but they were real questions, the questions of those moving out of childhood, and into a much bigger, more complicated world. It was exciting to watch that, satisfying to be a part of it.

And it was exciting to watch that movement ripen, and mature this past year, as the class became senior in the school. If it is done well, a very great deal happens Senior year, intellectually, emotionally, spiritually. And it was done well. To all of those questions, there began to emerge some answers. Only some, and only began, but still answers. More and more clearly, more and more strongly, decisions were made, purpose and direction given to energy and talent. Individual personalities came into sharper focus. In a very real way, Shanley became their school, to an extent it really could never have been before. The senior class gave color, flavor to our days, assumed some responsibility for that. I remember especially in late Fall a fine and fruitful effort made to meet with members of other classes, particularly the freshmen, to stir up, keep alive that special quality of experience that marks Shanley. And it worked. That effort provided us with a very fine week, just before Christmas. A week we needed. The decorations, the music, and especially the assembly the last day before vacation. It was a good thing, a strong moment. Again, it was exciting to watch, and satisfying to be a part of it.

And so for me personally, as well as for the school, this graduation is a time of passage.

But it is to be most intensely so, for you, you members of this class. The passage, after all, is yours.

The world into which you will move, will in a sense be new, certainly. It will be marked by a new freedom, new possibilities, new promise. But it will also be familiar. Familiar because you will bring with you what you have brought through a dozen passages before. Those promises will be fulfilled, those possibilities realized according to patterns that are probably already in place in your life.

And there is a name for that pattern that will measure for you what your world will feel like from now on.

The name is value. That is the key to how you will experience the world into which you will move. Your values are the decisions that you have made about what is important, real, "value"-able in your lives.

So perhaps the wisest, most fruitful reflection you could make as you graduate would be to sort of hold a mirror up to your own soul, examine the value choices you have already made, ask yourselves, "Why have I made them? Which of these values have made my experience of life up till now, better, richer, and which have narrowed, damaged it? Which of these choices have been well made, and which have been poorly, falsely made?"

I'd like to help you do that. I can't do it for you, no one can. But I can help, by bringing into focus just a few of those values, which if honestly served, will bring you happiness. I promise you, if these values are pursued, no matter where you are, what your circumstances may be, whether in school, in a job, whether you become president of IBM, or dig ditches for a living, it simply doesn't matter... if you pursue these values, your life will be good. Not always easy, not always pleasant, but always good.

And the first of these values is Truth. A respect for the truth, a hunger for it, a passion for it. An abhorrence for deception, whether it be of oneself, or of anyone else. You will find, as you move about in the world, that a fair bit of what you will be asked to hold, simply is not true. In politics, in business, in science, in your relationships, you will, sooner or later, probably be asked to live a lie. You will be told that such is the way it must be, sometimes, in order to fit in, to be successful, to win. Don't do it. The price you will pay will be far far too great. Face the world as it really is. Celebrate the goodness you find there, name it as such. But if there are problems, give them a name as well, confront them, never simply pretend that they aren't there. Never pretend to be something that you are not, never demand of others that they be something they cannot.

And this is all not nearly as mysterious as it may sound. After all, we have not been left to grope about in the dark for the truth. It has been given to us. We know what the world is. It is God's, created for His purpose, and He has shown us how to live in it, as He did. So any attitude, any way of life that proposes to make of the world, of other people, of oneself, anything less than God's own, is a lie. A lie to be challenged, confronted, and rejected.

And if you do that, if you nurture in yourselves a sacred hunger for the truth, I think a number of other values will pretty quickly fall into place. The need for them will be clear.

Courage. The readiness to act on what is true, even when to do so may not be pleasant, or popular, or even safe. Courage is a complex virtue. It certainly does not mean never being afraid. A person who is never afraid is also never brave. Rather courage means acting in spite of fear and uncertainty. Courage means a self-reliance, confidence in one's own ability to know the truth, to judge rightly, even when it seems as though all those around you, or many at any rate, disagree. Courage is an eminently Christian virtue. Your Christianity, your Catholic faith will be challenged as you move about in the world, perhaps even ridiculed. Perhaps it already has been. You will be told, by some, that all that matters in life in how much money you make, how much power you garner. That such is the measure of success, and that it really doesn't matter how you do it. That is a lie. And to name it as such will take courage, because it is a popular lie.

Gentleness. Another very Christian value. Again, it is a mark of those who know the truth. Gentleness is the mark of those who know that to do violence to any of God's creatures, even to oneself, whether that be physical violence, emotional violence, verbal violence, to treat God's people as something less than He has made them to be, is a terrible blasphemy, an abuse of something sacred. You will be told, by some, that it is a good thing, a pleasant thing to filter your world through a chemical haze, that the burdens, the challenges of reality can be drugged away. That is a lie, and a violent lie. You will be told by some that your sexuality, your ability to love, and that of those around you is a toy, something to be used to fill the moment. In so many of the relationships that you will see formed about you, perhaps which you yourselves will be invited to enter, you will be offered a thousand and one sadly, grotesquely twisted imitations of love. They are a lie, and a violent lie. It will take a gentle courage to name them as such.

Constancy, faithfullness. Simply never giving up, never quitting when a goal is not easily reached, a value not easily realized. Retreat from time to time, certainly, that can be a good thing. But never run, never give up in the pursuit of the truth, and the practice of virtue.

Well. I opened this reflection by accepting one graduation address cliché. I will close by rejecting another. You will probably be told before this time of passage is over, that someday you will look back on your high school years as the best years of your life. Well, how sad it would be if that were true. But I assure you, it is not. There is a great deal more to come. School, after all, is prologue, preparation. Over these few years you have learned something, but far more importantly, you have become something. You will take with you from here some information, some ideas, some academic skills. But far more importantly you will take with you your heart, your soul, the values that make you what you are. So conduct yourselves graciously in the world, and you will find joy in it. God calls you to make your home in a good and holy place, in the company of a good and holy people. Move through His world gently, with pride, with courage, and with constancy. You can. You have the ability. I've seen it, I've watched it grow, and to do so has been a joy for me. You are more than capable of taking up your rightful place in the company of God's people.

If you do that, you will be a blessing for us. We await your passage eagerly. We have high expectations of you. See to it that what you bring to us is truly something of value.

Shanley High School Graduation, 1985