2009 Valedictory Address
By Elizabeth Morse '09
Senator Casey, Bishop McManus, President McFarland, Senior Vice President Vellaccio, Dean Austin, Dean Peace, Members of the Board of Trustees, Honored Guests, Faculty and Staff, Parents, Relatives and Friends, and finally, Fellow Members of the Class of 2009:
Welcome to the end of one incredible journey and to the beginning of yet another.
I am sure that many of you have heard the familiar adage, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” It is my belief that most clichés are cliché for a reason. As a scientist who takes little at face value, and who continually seeks reproducible results backed by credible data, please allow me to argue for the truth that this saying encapsulates.
According to my calculations using Google Earth, the distance from Easy Street to Kimball is approximately 1,262 feet, or 504 steps given the average human stride. With two daily trips to Kimball, weekday trips to Cool Beans, to the library and to class in Stein, and an ambitious weekly trip to the Hart Center, you have each walked approximately 14.3 miles per week in your years here at Holy Cross. Our parents could not have imagined on August 27, 2005, as we tearfully waved goodbye and headed to the freshmen picnic on Kimball Quad, that they were watching us take the first of over 3 and a half million steps on the Hill, which, for those who left their calculators at home, is equivalent to a journey of over 1,725 miles. Who would have thought, in the same number of steps, we could have walked from Mount Saint James to the Rocky Mountains.
Congratulations, Class of 2009. You have just completed a journey above and beyond the conventional thousand miles. Leave it to Holy Cross students to be incredible over-achievers.
In our four years here at Holy Cross, we have climbed much more than the hill to the Hart Center. In addition to the over fifty stairs leading to Dinand, clearly built to distinguish the focused minds from the faint-hearted, we have conquered piles of papers and problem sets, stacks of Shakespeare and science textbooks, and heaps of history and hermeneutics. We have conversed with professors in office hours, met with advisors with white, yellow and pink course selection forms in hand, and dutifully taken the required classes to complete our respective majors, minors and concentrations. In other words, we have each taken the necessary steps to leave here today with a diploma that indicates – in a language that most of us cannot understand – that we have, in fact, graduated from the College of the Holy Cross.
Since we have walked across this stage, one might argue that we may now refer to ourselves as Holy Cross alumni. And though we will write “College of the Holy Cross” on our resumes, the genuine value of a Holy Cross education, and the true meaning of being a graduate of this institution, is much greater than its requisite components.
Allow me to explain with a metaphor that at first may seem unrelated. Picture yourself standing before a multi-story building. Though you have never been to the roof, you know that what resides at the top of this building is an understanding of what is real – the good, the true, the beautiful. As a result, you have a deep desire to climb to the roof. You have two ways to travel: first, a set of stairs, which represents reason or knowledge attained through human intellect; second, an elevator, which represents revelation, or knowledge given through relationship with God. Though you attempt to climb the stairs of reason to the top, you realize that they fall short, and that the only way to get to the roof is, at some point, to transition to the elevator – to trust in something greater than yourself to guide your way.
This image was shared with me by Father Clark in his Introduction to Catholicism class my freshman year. It was passed down to him by his professor at Williams College, and is a simplified, but clever metaphor meant to encompass St. Thomas Aquinas’s approach to the relationship between human reason and revelation. It beautifully shows us that, while human reason is essential, it can only take us so far. At some point, a person must rely on the elevator, on the way God draws us closer, to reach his or her full potential.
We have spent four years climbing the stairs of human reason, using our academic pursuits to wrestle with the most pressing political, social, economic and scientific dilemmas of our world. And yet, we only come to experience the fulfillment of a Holy Cross education when we are open to revelation, when we enter into a relationship with the divine regardless of our personal creed or denomination, and seek to achieve our full human potential through the vocation to which each of us is called. When we use reason for the good of humanity, we take a step toward God. When we are open to revelation, we open our hearts so that God can take a step toward us. It is in this space, as we step toward God and God steps toward us, that we open ourselves to the possibility of a life of faith.
This past January while on the Spiritual Exercises, a five-day silent retreat based upon the month-long program of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, I received a letter from a friend who had previously been on the Exercises himself. After my friend had assured me that it is, in fact, possible for a college student to remain silent for five days, he shared with me the following quote from Seeds by Thomas Merton: “Our vocation is not simply to be, but to work together with God in the creation of our own life, our own identity, our own destiny… This means to say that we should not passively exist, but actively participate in His creative freedom, in our lives, and in the lives of others, by choosing the truth.”
We have already started this process of discernment. We have already been open to the call to service in the streets of Worcester, at the front desk of Abby’s House and in the classrooms of Vernon Hill Elementary School. We have entered into solidarity with those living in poverty in Appalachia and Mexico, in Jamaica and on the Gulf Coast, lending the help of a hammer or paintbrush whenever the need should arise.
But there is still more to do. We do not know where the road ahead leads. Some of us will rise to public greatness, as CEOs and politicians, as researchers and social advocates. Others of us will come to know a quieter greatness, contributing to the good of society without ever catching the media’s eye, yet just as actively carrying out the mission of this college.
Regardless of the paths we choose, each of us will leave Mount Saint James with both a gift and a calling. The gift is our education. The calling is one of faith. Armed with the skills of reason and open to the grace of revelation, we embark from this Hill called to be a sign of faith. Together, we are, quite literally, the sign of the Cross – of Holy Cross.
Each word that we speak should demonstrate that we believe in the greater good of humanity, that we are filled with compassion for the marginalized and with unconditional kindness and consideration for our neighbor. Each deed that we do should show that we are men and women seeking to live in solidarity with our fellow human beings – rich or poor, fortunate or desolate, spirited or downtrodden. Each step that we take should indicate to others that we have spent four years walking up and down a scenic Hill on the southern edge of Worcester, in a place where the mystery of God’s grace and the victories of human reason intersect, interact and reconcile each other to the same truths of human existence.
My fellow classmates, it has been an absolute privilege to take these over 3 million steps with you. May God bless you in all you do, in all you dream, and in every step you have yet to take.
Thank you.
Audio:
The valedictory speech is available in MP3 format for download to your computer or MP3 player.