Carthage College Baccalaureate, 2010
John 14:8-17

The Rev. Dr. Timothy J. Wengert — May 23, 2010

Let me extend thanks both to the president of Carthage College for the singular privilege of being invited to share God's Word with you at this baccalaureate service and to all of the folks, including your chaplain, who have helped me prepare. I am deeply moved that you have thought to invite a professor of the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia to preach on this occasion, as your celebration of one of our most noted alumni and teachers, William Lazareth, draws to a close. Not only have you honored the institution that I serve; you have also done me a greater honor than you can possibly imagine. Although I was born in New Jersey and grew up in Detroit, I have always considered Wisconsin home. My one grandfather was district attorney of Milwaukee County during the 1920s; the other helped make Red Star yeast for the local brewers and bakers. My brother taught for years at a well-known University in Madison where he and my father both received PhDs and my late wife her bachelor's degree. I served as pastor in a congregation in Northern Wisconsin. My parents are buried in Stoughton. So, thanks for letting me come home. With that said, let us begin.

......

Were this homily to have a title, it would be simply this: “There is something more!” As you experience the ancient rituals of graduation this day, the pomp and circumstance of the public celebration and the joy of the private ones, do not forget this simple fact: “There is something more.”

It might be easy to imagine that that title, that insight, was a simple one to concoct. The expected nostrums on graduation day, you might think, would surely include such a line. “You are the generation of tomorrow!” “The world is waiting for you!” Or, perhaps, simply “The world is your oyster,” although I've never really understood what that one means. But, despite having experienced twenty-one graduations at my own institution in Philadelphia, I have rarely if ever had to think about what it might mean to graduate. Oh, sure, I've had four of my own—missed all but one—and I've experienced two for my children, with another one a year away. But to stand where I'm standing now—champagne bottle in hand ready to launch with a single blow a room full of eager graduates into a shrinking job pool—this I've never done before.

So, I turned to an obvious place for help on what to say—not the Bible, as you might be thinking (that comes later)—but to Hallmark. Surely a company that has printed more graduation cards than anyone else on earth must know what to say on such an occasion, right? So, armed with pen and paper, I headed off to the local chain store in search of the truth. I suspect that the clerks thought I was a spy from American Greetings. To save you reading some of your cards later today, here is what my unscientific survey found.

Some cards want to make you feel responsible, or at least guilty, about the future. “You're graduating with honors! With the natural talent and work ethic you've got, you're bound to do great things.” In other words, social security won't be there when I retire, so you'd better make enough to take care of all of us. For those without honors, this from Dr. Seuss: “Today is your day. You're off to great places! You're off and away!” In other words, leave home! Soon! Or “You have found the keys for success. God and you! Now you're really going places.” Which may be a nice way of saying, Move far away. I've changed the locks.

Some cards are simply honest about your family of origin. “Now that you've graduated, you might just be the smartest relative in our family. Not unlike being the most civilized monkey in the zoo.” To be honest, most family cards—no matter how you're related—claim to be proud of you and hope that you succeed. There is, however, the occasional honest card in this category. “Brother, you've graduated! Time to quit studying! So there's 3 or 4 minutes a day that'll be freed up.” I seem to recall that my brother sent me that one.

Other cards just want to make sure you celebrate. “Now that you've graduated, take a little time off. The real world's not going anywhere.” Or: “Hats off to you, class of 2010. You made the grades. It's time to graduate. Good job! Well done! Now have some fun. Kick back and celebrate.” Do you really need any encouragement in that regard?

The best kind, of course, come with a special pocket for a check or cash. And the only one I resented was this one: “When the graduation speaker says you can do whatever you want in life, he's not talking about really dumb stuff like walking on biplane wings.” Who says I'm going to say that?

But there was one that caught my attention. I'll save that for the end of this sermon. For now, we still have my theme: “There is something more!” Despite the funniest or most serious Hallmark had to offer, none of them came out and said this. There is something more! And there are two sides to this theme. On the one hand, it serves as a warning—a warning not to turn graduation into idolization. This moment, this day is not and never will be the end all and be all of your existence. At very least, many of you will have student loans to pay off! But then, too, this is only a moment, a blink of an eye. To become so wrapped up in it as to forget everything else, would be like the aging football player in the short story, whose entire life revolved around recounting how he'd scored the winning touchdown decades before. Ecstasy turned agony for everyone in the room!

Yet, much of what you will experience today may fool you into imagining that this is it, that you've succeeded, become the smartest in the family, and now need only bask in the light of your success. No! It's just a piece of paper; a sign of what you have done. And although I have more degrees than a thermometer (and am about to be honored with another), the danger is always out there: to worship the degree, the accomplishment, the achievement, as if this were the true way to succeed in life.

There is something more! This simple sentence not only reveals our idols, it also uncovers another world. For me, as a witness to Jesus Christ, on this celebration of Pentecost, when Christians world-wide remember the coming of God the Holy Spirit to the frightened apostles, turning them into witnesses to God's power, there is something more. There is someone more who, as St. John's gospel proclaims in verses preceding the assigned text, is the Way, the Truth and the Life. He is the “more” in this celebration today, that is, the one thing—the one person—who can put this day into its proper perspective. And these words of Jesus, “I am the way, the truth and the life,” have been sustaining Christians for centuries, pointing them to something more.

“Way, truth, life”—what does this mean? In the fifth century, the bishop of Northern Africa, St. Augustine of Hippo, preaching on these very words, put it this way. “Jesus said, ‘I am the way,' that is, the road on which we travel; and ‘I am the truth,' that is, the transport on that road, and ‘I am the life,' that is, the goal toward which we journey.” And, not to be outdone, a thousand years later, the remarkable English pastor and poet, George Herbert, turned Jesus remarks into a prayer. “Come, my way, my truth, my life: such a way as gives us breath; such a truth as ends all strife; such a life as killeth death.”

Ah, my friends, there is something more than this day and this moment, and it rests in the wounded hands of the Son of God, who is not only way, truth and life but, as we recall this Pentecost day, also is the sender of an advocate, a comforter, the Holy Breath and Spirit of God, to be with you forever: whether you succeed or fail; whether you are the smartest in the family or the stupidest; whether you celebrate wisely or foolishly; whether this is a step forward or backward—after all, graduation is simply a fancy Latin word for a step. That Spirit is with you.

The other word for the “Spirit of truth,” translated “advocate” here, is the Greek word Paraclete, which literally means, the one who calls alongside. And, you will forgive me if, when I hear that word, I always think of my elementary school friend, David Libby. One time, in third or fourth grade, I missed the bus and began to walk all of the way home alone—Roy Rogers lunchbox in hand, feet slushing through the spring snow, cold and abandoned. But then, suddenly, a voice from behind called out. “Hey, Tim, wait up!” And I turned to see David Libby running to catch up, literally “calling along side of me.” That's what the Father sends and Jesus begs for: For us to have someone, the Holy Spirit of truth, call alongside us—not only on the days of our proudest achievements, but also when hope grows dim, when faith falters, when love grows cold. Now do you see? There truly is something more! The blessing and presence of God: Father, Way and Advocate! Parent, Truth and Paraclete! Source, Life, and Comforter!

Which brings me to that last Hallmark card. It was religious, bearing a quotation from the prophet Isaiah. “God bless you as you graduate. ‘Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”' May you walk with pride today, with hope tomorrow, with faith always.” There is something more, you see, and hearing God call alongside you changes every moment of your life. Then, with God in your future, there is also something more in your present. Right now—because Jesus Christ is Way, Truth and Life and God calls alongside you in the Holy Spirit—right now, as you graduate and because you graduate, there is something more.

In that spirit, then, perhaps, the words of Martin Luther King, Jr., from a graduation exercise in Philadelphia years ago, may finally make sense and point you to that something more in this life. “And when you discover what you will be in life, set out to do it as if God Almighty called you at this particular moment in history to do it. If it falls your lot to be a street sweeper, sweep streets like Michelangelo painted pictures. Sweep streets like Beethoven composed music. Sweep streets like Leontyne Price sings before the Metropolitan Opera. Sweep streets like Shakespeare wrote poetry. Sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will have to pause and say, ‘Here lived a great street sweeper who swept his job well.'” What a homecoming! There is something more! To teach this and this alone is the role and purpose of Lutheran colleges in the twenty-first century.

And may the peace of God, that passes all human understanding, keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen