It is, I think, most fitting that we graduate here, at St. Ignatius Church. We stand in the presence of our namesake. After four years of learning in his tradition, we pass through the doors of his church. We stand on the top of the hill to look out over the world. Today we join the long file of graduates to pass through the doors of St. Ignatius church. From the first church on Market Street, to the Van Ness Avenue church, to this church we gather in now, for 150 years St. Ignatius Church has watched the proud heritage of SI graduates pass through its doors, and now it watches us. This church silently acknowledges our growth, our competence, and our leadership; this sentinel, having seen the vast history of graduates before us, silently gives approval, opening its doors, letting us out into the blinding sunshine, to the peak of this hill – our Olympus – to view all that is now ours. St. Ignatius Church, with each diploma, offers a motionless nod; we are ready to leave, carrying with us the name and mark of Ignatius. We join the ranks of SI alumni, and thus, we share their banner: service, their cause: to better the world, and their call: Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam.
This year, I had the honor of singing with the chamber choir in the Mass of the Golden Diploma. There, Father Murphy, a former teacher at SI and a member of the class of 1959, made two points in his homily I would like to share with you. First, we do not remember the building, the classes, or the wins and losses, only the people. We remember teachers, counselors, administrators, and friends who made the Saint Ignatius experience. Saint Ignatius is not the building; it is us. Saint Ignatius is Mr. Paul Hanley, a true Ignatian, who has taught us for 29 years at SI. Mr. Hanley has so generously given to all of us life lessons, kindness, and first-hand accounts of the Old Testament. Mr. Hanley, thank you. Saint Ignatius is Ms. Linda Rich, a wise and gracious counselor, who has devoted so much of her time to brightening the days of St. Ignatius students for the past 18 years. Ms. Rich, for all the smiles, the advice, and, of course, your lovely little bowl of starbursts, thank you. St. Ignatius is our forbearing parents, whose patience, love, and financial support has brought us here today. Dear parents, for all of our ingratitude, briskness, and general adolescence, we apologize. For all of your support, care, and generosity, thank you. We love you. My fellow classmates, you are St. Ignatius. You, who have spent the last four years in service to strangers and to friends, who have fought injustice where and how you have seen it, gather today under the standards of Ignatius. A great many of us, I have a feeling, will shed tears today, and not because we miss that little campus on 37th Avenue, with the blue carpet, white walls, and brand new St. Ignatius statue in the piazza, but because we miss the sunset over JB Murphy field after practice with our teammates. We will miss the last echo of a musical piece perfectly performed by our friends and the ache of a laugh shared with our peers in the Brother Douglas Draper Student Center. We will miss especially the people who made SI, SI. So, here, thank you to all those people responsible for the Saint Ignatius experience. Coaches, counselors, administrators, and staff, learned teachers, gracious benefactors, dear friends, and of course, beloved parents, we offer our heart-felt appreciation for this gift of the Saint Ignatius experience you have given us.
Father Murphy also asked the question, “What do people see when they look at you?” Well, what do people see when they look at us? What will they see 50 years from now when we receive our Golden Diplomas in the Chapel? People see something different in us; they see competence, leadership, and compassion. They see men and women, with and for others, working for the Greater Glory of God. They see us, together, individuals as members of unit. They see us as selfless, not selfish. They see us as leaders, as courageous soldiers against darkness and ignorance. They see us fighting not for our own gain or our own jealousies; they see us fighting side-by-side, back-to-back, relentlessly, for others. We are marked, my friends; we are marked with confidence and competence; we are marked with knowledge and potential. In 50 years, this mark should remain, our potential fulfilled. In 50 years, they should see us as they do today, still fighting and toiling, but they should see us stronger, more together, a greater force. Today is not about you or me – it is not about the individual – it is about the community, about us. It is about joining the last 150 years of graduates in the fight against darkness, in the fight to remove shadow from those who most need God’s light. We join the company of Ignatians today to fight for learning, to remove ignorance, to spread knowledge, to repeal darkness with curiosity and courage. Have confidence in our competence. We have spent four years not only learning facts and theories, but also the ethic, desire, and call to service that prepares us to meet the challenges of the future. The last four years prepared us not only for college, but also for life, to meet it with aptitude, confidence, and spiritual strength. We have grown as students, yes, but we have grown also as athletes, performers, leaders, and spiritual beings. It is this education of the whole person with which Saint Ignatius has blessed us. SI has prepared us to be continual learners. We graduate, but our education does not cease. We are not yet done, my dear fellow graduates, nor shall we ever be. We go out to learn from life, to grow in knowledge and wisdom, and to use our learning to benefit others. We learn in order to satiate that gnawing curiosity forged in the fires of St. Ignatius classrooms. We learn to make a difference. And we make a difference by making decisions. SI has prepared us to make the small, everyday decisions that shape how we live our lives. It is the SI experience we should look back on and build on when we make our choices. We make choices every day, and these, in both miniscule and immense ways, shape both us and our world. Let us make choices not only for ourselves, but for others also.
And now for an apparent non sequitur, as I venture into the world of Norse Mythology, but trust me. According to the Norse, every god and every heavenly warrior in Valhalla knew what awaited them at the end of time: the all-consuming flame sprung from the giant Surtur, which would basically obliterate everyone into crispy, blackened bits. Yet out of the ashes of that fire would resurrect a perfect and peaceful world. Every day, they all joined in massive battle on the plains outside their palatial hall to hone their skill so that when Heimdall finally sounded his horn, they would be ready. They faced the future with bravery. Each and every one of them knew exactly how he was going to die, yet every day he practiced. The Norse ethic was not one based on personal happiness, but one about fighting for a cause greater than self. Selfless heroism in life would allow one to join the fight again at the end of time. The Norse wished to die gloriously so that they could die again. Why? So that, though they may not see it or experience it, the world would be better. They had a hope not for themselves, but for the future. Individual glory brought collective good. And so it must be with us. We, like the Norse warriors, echo the words of St. Paul to the Corinthians, “The body is not one member, but many.” Today we become members of the body of St. Ignatius graduates, and with them we toil, we fight, and we give, not only for ourselves, but also for the men and women next to us and the men and women who need us. Let us ignore fatigue and pain so that we may ride forth, victorious, having the reward of a more perfect world.
My fellow graduates, the last 12 years, and especially these most recent four, have been only a preparation. We strengthened, practiced, and matured, and today, the horn blows. We gird ourselves, competent leaders, to meet the challenges of the world. Sometimes they may buckle us, but we fight and do not heed the wounds; we toil and do not seek for rest. And I call you to be as the mythic purifying fire. SI sends you forth, so that from you may rise something better, more peaceful, and more perfect. You have been prepared, not to shy from the future, but to meet it head on. You are called to be a changing force, a righteous fire, to better the world. You are called to make the decisions, both big and small, that shape the world.
As we exit St. Ignatius church, we begin our own diaspora; we spread across the country to different people and different schools. We leave the place and care of Saint Ignatius College Prep, but we take with us everything it has taught. As you pass through those doors and enter the world, find what gives you truest joy, your deepest desire, and do it. Never doubt your preparation, your leadership, or your abilities. We have been given the highest-caliber education; we have a responsibility to put it to good use. Congratulations my classmates, today you join an elite community and begin to share in a proud history -- earn this distinction. Go out bravely into the future. It is now all yours to meet, yours with which to grapple, and yours to better. Do not shy from the battle ahead. SI has given you the tools, so craft a masterpiece. And know when people look at you, now or 50 years from now, they see something different. They sense your strength, your confidence, your wisdom, and your potential. And now, forever, we are SI.My most sincere best wishes to all of you. God Bless.