Mr. Condron, fellow Trustees, distinguished guests, parents, families, friends, and, most importantly, members of the Class of 2009, welcome to this auspicious event in the life of the University and in your lives.  Today we celebrate the accomplishments of a richly talented group of young people whose highest aspirations have been nurtured by those who have loved them so long and so well.  I mean the love of parents for their children, the love of the University’s faculty and staff for the sacred work entrusted to us at Scranton and the love of classmates for one another. As St. Ignatius Loyola insists, love shows itself more in action than in words. Today, I want to reflect with you on your actions across the past four years.

First I want to acknowledge that you did not happen into existence on a muggy, sunny August afternoon four years ago.  For the eighteen years before that you had been shaped in homes, schools, churches and communities, where you acquired the knowledge and skills that made you well suited for a Scranton education.  You received from your first, best teachers, your parents and families, the moral compass by which you can navigate the future. You owe so much to those who helped you get your start, who for years have waited and watched and worried and wondered about you. Today I hope that you will look at them in wonder.  The pattern of their lives, especially their selfless love for you will always stand the test of time and reveal far more wisdom than any words of mine.  Graduates please join me in saluting those who sent you here and supported you all along the way.  Help me also salute your classmates, Doctors John McNamee, Therese O’Rourke, and Rob Kapilow.  Our three honorary degree recipients so fully embody the University’s values and vision.  All three are apt examples of the kind of change agents St. Ignatius imagined graduates of Jesuit schools would be.

Now for some reflection on your actions in the past four years.  There is so much material from which to draw.  There have been the undeniable, and perhaps unavoidable, elements of human comedy.  You know about these actions far better than I, and I thank God for that.  I have only heard second hand about some of your shenanigans – including the climbing Condron Hall.  As recently as last night I saw your youthful exuberance on the dance floor.  And, in all seriousness, I pray that you will never lose your high spirits or let slacken ties that bind you to one another.  The friendships you have formed here can shape forever the contours of your lives.  Look ahead to sharing weddings, baptisms, anniversaries and reunions, with the arms of friends around your shoulder, welcoming what the world has in store for you.  If it is the case, and I have every reason to believe it is, the Scranton parties don’t stop.  Neither do Scranton friendships, and I thank God for that.

Moreover, I thank God for the most significant actions of these past four years in your lives. These are interactions really, the interactions between professor and student.  What marks your Scranton education as singular is the devotion of our faculty to your success.  Their passion for their academic disciplines is exceeded only by their dedication to you.  I assure you this is a rare experience in American higher education and it is the direct result of our Jesuit identity.  Scranton’s faculty and staff are the best practitioners I know of cura personalis.  Let their example inspire you as you imagine making your way in the world.  In particular, I want to point out the example of seventeen members of our faculty who are retiring this year. They represent collectively 620 years of service.  That takes us back to the thirteenth century – the century when the great universities of Europe were being founded.  The seventeen faculty members leaving us this year are truly founders of The University of Scranton, and we are all grateful for their countless contributions to our common life.

I thank God also for your remarkable commitment to acts of service on behalf of others.  Like our faculty, you too have embraced and exemplified our Catholic and Jesuit mission.  Out of faith in God and gratitude for all that God has given you, you have responded in characteristically Ignatian fashion to the needs you have encountered in Scranton and around the world.  Those encounters have caused you to re-imagine your responsibility to labor along with God in advancing the world’s wellbeing.  Long after you leave Scranton, I hope the fire kindled in you here will never dim, but always burn brightly and make you beacons of hope and healing in a world waiting to be made more gentle and just.

In these last few weeks, more than a few of you have confided in me what a special place Scranton is and will always be for you.  Cherish that sense and take ownership of this University that is now fully and rightly yours. As an English professor, let me leave you with a poet’s words about special places.  In this case, a Greek poet, C.P. Cavafy reflecting on Ulysses’ long journey home to Ithaca in The Odyssey:

“As you set out for Ithaka
hope the voyage is a long one,
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors seen for the first time;
may you stop at trading stations
to buy fine things,
and may you visit many cities
to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.
(But) keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island
wealthy withal you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And, if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.”

Dear friends of the Class of 2009.  Keep Scranton always in your mind. Scranton gave you a marvelous journey.  Without her you would not be setting out today.  She has nothing left to give you now.  And if you find her poor, Scranton hasn’t fooled you.  Wise as you have become, so full of experience, you understand now what Scranton means.

God bless you.  God bless Catholic and Jesuit education, and God bless The University of Scranton.