For those of you who don't know, I will be graduating from college this weekend. I had applied to speak at commencement, but was passed over in favor of another candidate. Since I have not had adequate time to write a normal blog post, I have decided to post a transcript of the speech I had planned on giving at commencement, were I selected. Some of the references are specific to the University of Kentucky, and it was written to be given to a group of graduating seniors, so I apologize if it does not make sense to everyone in some parts.
Students, faculty, families, and other distinguished guests: we gather today to celebrate not only the end of one section of our lives, but the beginning of an exhilarating new period. As students, we have spent the past four, five, seven, nine (?) years of our lives embracing the various facets of campus life at UK—that is, studying, socializing, and (let’s face it) sports (go Cats). The time and effort we have spent in classrooms and labs have culminated in this, the recompense for so many years of scholarly pursuit. As in every endeavor worth taking, the completion of our undergraduate degrees has merited much sacrifice on our part. But with the hope and anticipation befitting those of our position, we now eagerly await the fruits of our labor.
When we arrived here so few years ago, many of us came with the notion, driven by pride and reinforced by egotism, that we knew everything. College was an immense place, to be sure, but we had lived life and seen everything there was to see—we were untouchable! Until we sat down in the that hard-backed chair in the middle of a Whitehall lecture hall for our first day of calculus, or whatever class you attended on that ill-fated first day. Our naïveté was brought to bear on us in a way that made us feel vulnerable for perhaps the first time. We realized that there was a whole world of knowledge which we could never have even imagined.
And somewhere along the line, we began to lose this sense of helplessness. Slowly but surely, we have regained our composure and now we can walk across campus with our heads held high, secure in the knowledge that we have been there and have done that. College has nothing left to surprise us with. It is my task to put before you some words which will aid you in the coming years as you make the transition into what our elders love to call the “real world.” I do not deem it fit for me to tell you what you should do with your new-found knowledge. You have spent the past few years (and likely your last few dollars) on classes which purport to give you this direction, and I trust that they have done an adequate job. You have had more than enough guidance regarding what to do with what you know; what I urge you to consider today is what you will do with what you do not know.
As humans with a limited lifespan, we must at some point come to grips with the fact that we do not know everything. That first college class likely taught most of us this lesson in a very real way. But we have learned so much over the past few years that it seems almost unreasonable to imply that there could be even more to learn. Nevertheless, inherently we know that there will always be more out there: always at least one more thing to grasp beyond what we already know. And it has been my experience that the more a person learns, the more he or she realizes that there is to learn. Put simply, the more you know, the more you know you don’t know. At some point, each of us finds this startling fact staring us in the face, and what each of us chooses to do next says quite a lot about his or her character.
You may or may not know it, but this is, in fact, the very definition of the word faith. This word has been thrown around and abused so often by our culture that it seems to be nearly bereft of significance. But at its most basic level, faith simply means the willingness to admit that you don’t know everything, and to trust what you don’t know to something or someone else. Since the one basic fact of our lives is that we don’t know everything, almost all of us have had to place our faith in something, and it is that thing which I implore you to consider today.
Perhaps the most alarming choice people make is to simply ignore the subject altogether. This naïve attitude takes the stance of blissful ignorance: if I never stop to contemplate my lack of knowledge, it will never affect me. This sentiment is categorically flawed. We have already ascertained that there will be plenty of moments in our lives where our own personal experiences are not adequate to guide our decisions. Similarly foolish is to put your faith in yourself. As Americans, many of us are accustomed to hearing that with hard work and concentration, there is nothing beyond our reach. But despite the allure of this sentiment, our capabilities will always be limited, our grasp finite. It is therefore most reasonable to place your faith in something outside yourself. But how should we decide in whom we will place our faith? Unfortunately, for most of us, this decision is haphazard at best. We put our faith in so many things which cannot deliver on their promises. Perhaps the most alluring recipient in American culture is money. But we all know money cannot solve all our problems. What about power, popularity, or prestige? Many of you know already just how poorly these concepts function as recipients of our faith.
What we must conclude, finally, is that the only proper object of our faith is one which is above us, something or someone which transcends the human experience. The appropriate response when confronted with the fact that we cannot know everything is to put our trust in something that does. The current fashion is for learned members of society, like us, to place their faith in science. Let us recall that the very term “science” is derived from Latin for “that which is known.” Science does not deserve your faith any more than those objects previously mentioned, because it is nothing more than the lump sum of the finite intellects of a finite group of people. There will always be an extent to its grasp.
My one piece of advice to you today, before we embark on our post-graduate lives is this: Consider carefully where you are currently putting your faith, and act accordingly. For what it’s worth, I have yet to be let down by my faith in God and in His Son Jesus Christ. He has gotten me this far, and I have no reason to suspect He will disappoint me in the years to come. As Jesus Himself said, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.” I implore you, my friends: live your lives on purpose. Do not waste the time or potential that has been given to you, and trust what you do not know to someone greater than yourself. Thank you for your time, and may God bless us as we look to the future.
