The Benediction
Commencement 2009
Rev. Steve Runholt

Mr. President, Madame Dean, I beg your indulgence for a slender moment.  I came in with this class and, as their chaplain, I have one or two things I would like to say to them as they prepare to leave this place.

Class of 2009, it is my honor to pronounce this benediction, this blessing, upon you.  For we did indeed come in together, you and I.  Four years ago we arrived on campus right about the same time.  And in the intervening years we’ve had our shares of highs and lows, and experienced the full spectrum of joy and heartbreak, which is, I might add, essential preparation for life out there in the wild world.

We have welcomed a new President, a new Dean of the College, a new Dean of Students, a new Acting Dean of Service-Learning, a new VP for Finance, a new VP for Advancement and a new Director of Spiritual Life.  We have been blessed by their collective leadership, their guidance and their friendship, and we give them our thanks in return.  (Meanwhile, Ian and Richard, thank you for sticking around this whole time!  And Marilyn Eichman, let me say we could not have done this without you.  Thank you!)

We’ve seen buildings collapse and then rebuilt.  Or at least almost rebuilt.  Still work to be done.  (Who knew Bryson Gym would be a metaphor for the economy that now awaits you out there?!)

We have welcomed new friends into the class.  And as Sandy rightly noted a moment ago, we’ve lost friends along the way. 

We have shared meals while serving the poor and the homeless, breaking bread with the women in Room in the Inn.

We’ve sung Christmas carols in the Chapel and chanted Buddhist and Jewish prayers at the Festival of Lights. 

We have sat is sweat lodges and built a buffalo fence.  In other words, we have grieved, we’ve laughed, we’ve prayed, we’ve served and we have danced together. And so it is my privilege to charge you as you leave this place.

Class of 2009, where there is hatred in the world, make love.  Big Love.  Capital L Love.  Make it with your hands and your hearts and your decisions.  Cross your own boundaries and befriend someone who is different from you, and love them – a Republican perhaps, or a carnivore.  A Muslim, or a Christian.  Learn what it is they value and try to respect that.  Our world needs such understanding.

Where there is violence in the world, wage peace.  Wage it in your families and in your communities.  Wage it in villages in South America and in schoolyards in Kenya and in your own heart.  Wage it with your writing and your speaking and your preaching and your teaching and your marching.  Wage it with blackboard and chalk.  With herbs and antibiotics.  With research and prayer.  Wage it on the streets and on Facebook.  And when you are inclined to join the world’s violence, chant this prayer (say it with me):  Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.

 Where there is discrimination and exploitation in the world, do justice.  Do it with your smiles and your laughter.  Do it with your vote and your voice.  When you meet racism, as you surely will, stare it in the eye and don’t back down.  When you meet homophobia, greet it with the courage of a revolutionary.  When you meet poverty, resist it with your service and your advocacy and your compassion.  Name injustice and defeat it.  Defeat it in the courtroom and the classroom and the workroom.  Defeat it in the churches and the synagogues and the temples. 

Make Love, graduates.  Wage peace.  And do justice.  And don’t stop until all God’s children are loved and sheltered and valued and equal, because until then our work on earth is not finished. 

And so, as you go from this place, may the deep peace of the running wave be with you; may the gentle beauty of these lovely mountains continue to inspire you, and may the highest and best values of Warren Wilson College guide you this day and for the rest of your life!

 Now go out and change the world!  Your time here is done!