Today, as I said, is the feast of the Ascension, it’s really a feast of a departure, a leave-taking.
Jesus had been for the disciples the center of their lives. They had left everything to follow him; He changed their lives. They experienced the dark days of the crucifixion, and wonder of the resurrection.
But now, he leaves them. And they are looking up to the sky wondering what is next.
But at this moment of departure and uncertainty, they find a new mission. They are told to go forth; preach; to baptize; to spread the word of Jesus and that mission will shape their lives.
It is a fitting feast day for this Commencement weekend: You graduates are also between a leave-taking and a new mission. You will be leaving people who have become so important to you – your friends, your classmates, your teachers, your rectors and others - but you are going on to exciting new things in the next stage of your life.
The disciples though in today’s reading, did not simply let go completely of one thing and then move on to another. Their lives and work after Jesus’s ascension--their mission--was shaped by their time with him, his words, his actions, his resurrection.
In a similar way, graduates, the people, the experiences, the learning you’ve had here during your time here at Notre Dame will shape your future. Certainly, the knowledge and skills you've acquired in your studies will position you to succeed in whatever you undertake.
But what is more, your lives will be shaped by the friendships you’ve made here, the experiences you’ve had, the conversations with classmates, and the personal growth that happened here.
A graduate who had been away from Notre Dame after his graduation for a long time once told me that as he looked back on his life if he cut into four-year increments, his four years as a student at Notre Dame had the greatest impact on who he was and what he did.
Of course, many of the experiences you’re going to take from Notre Dame are exciting, joyful and reassuring but no doubt there were struggles, disappointments, lonely times, difficult days and that too you’ll take from your experience at Notre Dame.
For you, the class of 2023, you had the experience of going to college during a global pandemic. For you undergraduates, you came in the fall of 2019, you left for spring semester little did you know it would be such a long spring break. And we did not gather until the next fall and you had to endure the restrictions, anxiety, and the isolation of Covid. That was hard on everyone; it was hard on you. But you made it through, and you made it through together.
The struggles and hardships are also part of what you take from your time at Notre Dame and I hope you find in them a lesson, a moment of growth, the motivation to take a new direction.
In this age of Instagram, TikTok, Facebook and Twitter, we pay a lot of attention on how we present ourselves to the world through social media. And we all know that can bring with it a temptation to photo-shop your life —to include only the good times, the successes. We have a tendency only to post those photos where when we’re with friends, everyone is smiling, it’s sunny and you just look great. Now it makes sense to want to put your best foot forward but succumbing to that photo-shop approach to life can lead us to miss the ways in which God’s gifts come to us through the stumbles, the struggles and the blemishes.
If the disciples did not preach about the dark days of Christ’s crucifixion and their desertion of him, they would not have been able to convey the wondrous hope of the Gospel. The resurrection could only have happened if there were those dark days of the crucifixion.
You see, God enters our lives and our world most powerfully often through those struggles and hardships. If we try to edit out the difficult times, the struggles, we can miss the gifts that are present there. Class of 2023, you were given a global pandemic. I hope you found gifts even in the hardship. It will certainly help you face the challenges of your lives.
But that’s not only true for our own personal experiences in our personal life. For if we can find God’s work in the struggles and hardships of our lives, we are in a better position to find it in the struggles and hardships in the world around us. It is often through encountering the discord, the brokenness and the evil that we find in the world around us an opening for a grace.
You graduates who went through the Moreau course your first year know about Father Moreau. Father Moreau had a motto, “The Cross our only hope,” which is engraved in many places on campus. Its meaning is simply this: by entering into the discord, the suffering, the hardships and struggles with love, we find God’s gifts more fully bestowed.
The lives of some of our honorees with us here today and tomorrow testify to that truth. Our Commencement speaker you’ll hear tomorrow, President Juan Manuel Santos, was an economist and journalist who found his way into government service. His nation, Columbia, was afflicted with the 50-year long civil war that created years of death and destruction and held the country back.
He was named Minister of Defense, and had a reputation for being a hardliner in fighting the rebels. But he engaged with them in dialogue, and he saw the possibility of working through dialogue, to arrive at a peace agreement.
He committed himself to that effort and, after many frustrations and setbacks, a peace agreement for Columbia was signed in 2016, making it possible for the country to reconcile and move beyond hatred.
Sr. Rosemary Connelly was a young nun when she was put in charge of a non-profit that cared for children with intellectual and physical disabilities. Although they were cared for, they were given little else to lead full lives. She found ways to offer her community a range of vocational training, and educational, social, recreational, medical and occupational therapies. She also drew around her hundreds of staff and volunteers to create, with those they served, a beautiful community where the gifts of everyone could be developed, shared and celebrated.
Dr. Jim O’Connell, a Notre Dame graduate, was a doctor in Boston. As a young doctor, he was asked to do a one-year stint, caring for the homeless on the streets of Boston. In caring for their struggles and hardships for a year, he found in that work a calling, a vocation. He established the Boston Health Care for the Homeless program, and has faithfully served the homeless in Boston in a way that has inspired many.
The same could be said for Howard Adams, in his service for helping minorities, females and handicapped in science and technology. Or for Amy Grant, in her remarkable dedication to serving those in need in her city or Marguerite Taylor, here in South Bend, where she helped create a neighborhood that allowed young people to flourish. Or Jim Rohr, who is beloved in Pittsburgh, his hometown where he serves the people of that town.
In the darkness, light can shine more brightly; in the hardship, grace can be found. In picking up your cross, you can find hope.
Class of 2023—you were given the hardship and the gift of a global pandemic. That experience helped make you into who you are. It taught you how to overcome adversity, together. It taught you how to find the grace in hardship.
As you go forth from Notre Dame, look for God’s grace in the hardship the world puts in your way. Be a facilitator of grace by bringing hope, comfort and love to those who struggle. Like our honorees, it is there you will find a mission that will leave you more enriched even than the people you serve.
Wherever you go and whatever you do, remember the words Jesus spoke in the Gospel reading today as he left the disciples and sent them on a mission: “Behold, I am with you always.”
Let us ask for the consolation of Jesus's presence, and ask for the help to find God’s grace as we go forth from Notre Dame.
]]>Good morning. Congratulations to you graduates, parents and most dedicated faculty on this wonderful accomplishment you've achieved in being here today at the 2023 Commencement Ceremony.
I hope you're able to take a moment to feel the pride you so richly deserve. The world is sure to be a better place because of your diligence and commitment in making it to this day.
I'm truly honored to have been invited to join you and to accept this prestigious award. Receiving the Laetare Medal and becoming a part of its history is not something I could ever imagine. When I look at the list of previous recipients, I'm very humbled to be included in such an outstanding group.
I was born on the west side of Chicago to Irish immigrants who prayed and dreamed of a better life for themselves and their children. My mother and father traveled thousands of miles across the Atlantic Ocean to achieve their goal. We were raised to work and study hard; to love and honor God our Father in every aspect of our lives. We were raised to always be grateful for God's many gifts.
My parents came to America for a better life and they never let us forget or take for granted the wonders of being born in this country. If they were still with us today, being honored by the University of Notre Dame would bring them such joy as Notre Dame means so much to our Irish community.
I was 18 when I told my mother I wanted to become a Sister of Mercy. At 19, she and my father allowed me to join the community. The Sisters of Mercy are an Irish religious order founded by Mother Catherine McCauley. Our lives as Sisters of Mercy are focused on responding to unmet needs through direct service and by seeking ways to change unjust systems. I joined this religious community thinking I would live a nice quiet contemplative life but soon learned that God had other plans for me.
My life has never been quiet and to this day even as I slow down I am still quite busy. God has been with me every step of the way. I was always given the right people at the right time and in-step with my religious vows, we always set forth to meet unmet needs for God's most vulnerable people. We dreamt of creating a home with a full continuum of care for our residents. A place where living arrangements and programs could evolve as their needs changed.
We put our faith in God and those hopes and dreams came to life. Today, Misericordia cares for more than 600 children and adults. Thankfully, God continues to send good and generous people who believe in our mission enough to help us achieve our goals.
I humbly accept the Laetare Medal on behalf of all those who brought me to this moment. In honoring me with the Laetare Medal, you honor our community of children and adults with developmental disabilities and their families who deserve no less than the best care possible. You help fulfill their prayer and dream of a beautiful life and a bright future worth living for their family.
Please know I will spend the rest of my life trying to honor you in gratitude for your acknowledgment of the special role children and adults of Misericordia and others with intellectual and developmental disabilities hold in our world. Thank you
]]>Dear Reverend Jenkins and members of the Board of Trustees; distinguished members of the faculty, honored alumni, students, family members, friends, and—most importantly—dear students of the Notre Dame Class of 2023:
What a joy and what an honor to be with you today to celebrate the graduation of a new generation of young people ready to build a better world!
To all of you, members of the Class of 2023, congratulations!
Personally, I have many reasons to be grateful to this prestigious university with more than one hundred and eighty years of history.
First, your well-known Kroc Institute for International Peace, whose head is my compatriot, Josefina Echavarría, has been and continues to be a fundamental ally in the process of not only making peace but also building peace in my country, Colombia.
As many of you might know, during my term as president, I worked to achieve peace with the oldest and most powerful guerrilla group in the Western Hemisphere: the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, known as the FARC.
It was not an easy task. Making peace never is. In fact, making peace is much more difficult than making war. And I know this because I have made both.
For six years, from 2010 to 2016, we held very difficult negotiations until we were able to sign a peace agreement that put an end to the oldest armed conflict in the Americas and transformed this guerrilla group into a political party.
That is the goal of any peace process! To turn from weapons to words, from bullets to ballots, and from violence to freedom and democracy.
The Kroc Institute is helping to monitor the agreements, its effects and its implementation, and it’s not an easy job because, according to its own assessment, it is the most ambitious and comprehensive peace agreement ever signed.
Quite true. It is the first peace agreement to include an ethnic chapter —and also a gender chapter. It is the first to put the rights of the victims at the center of the negotiations. And it is the first to include a special transitional justice system in accordance to the Rome Statute. I am proud to say that the Colombian peace agreement is a model for many nations that continue to suffer from the effects of conflict and war.
And today, I come to the University of Notre Dame to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your contribution to peace in Colombia.
***
And allow me to give you a first piece of advice for your lives, for your future…
No matter where you are, what you are working on… BE PEACEMAKERS.
Whatever it takes, at all times, for the sake of this world… BECOME PEACEMAKERS.
To become a true peacemaker, first you must be at peace with yourself, at peace with your own conscience.
So, here is my second piece of advice. Whenever you have to choose between being at peace or proving yourself right, choose the way of peace.
We have too many wars, conflicts, deaths, victims, and violence because human beings insist that only they, not their fellow humans, know the correct course of action.
It is better to be at peace than to prove to anyone that you are right.
Work with peace in your heart, find peace in your soul, and everything else will follow.
***
I am also grateful to this university because last year I had the privilege of becoming a fellow and a visiting professor here at the Keough 91Ƶ of Global Affairs. Thank you, Dean Appleby.
This gave me the wonderful opportunity to interact with students, faculty, and the staff on this beautiful campus.
And perhaps, just perhaps, I was able to bring a bit of luck to your flagship team, the beloved Fighting Irish.
When I came here last year, the Irish were going through a rough patch, having lost the two previous football games.
In one of the lectures I gave as a visiting professor, I said that 52 years ago, when I was a student at the University of Kansas, I was invited to the Superbowl in Kansas City when, for the first time ever, the Chiefs became champions.
And, by pure coincidence, fifty years later, in 2020, I was in Miami and I was again invited to the Superbowl. The Chiefs won their second Championship. By the way, this year they won again. With these credentials, I then had the audacity to say that maybe I could bring some luck to the Fighting Irish.
I was, of course, invited to the game the following Saturday, September the 17th, and in this very same stadium I had the joy of witnessing the Fighting Irish beat California in a nail-biting match.
The excitement was so contagious that I almost ran over to the student section for some touchdown push ups!
And, after that, the Fighting Irish went on a winning streak that placed them back in its historic position of excellence!
I don’t know if I brought luck to the Fighting Irish last year, but I can assure you, dear members of the Class of 2023, I will be wishing you all the luck in the world as you leave this wonderful university today.
So… Go Irish! Go Class of 2023!
***
Dear friends and students,
Moving on to a different subject, let’s talk about today’s existential threats.
I have the honor of being part of The Elders, an organization founded by Nelson Mandela, and archbishop Desmond Tutu, to bring together world leaders working for peace, human rights and climate justice.
As an Elder, I was invited earlier this year to Washington DC to witness the unveiling of the so-called Doomsday Clock.
Back in 1945, Albert Einstein and Robert Oppenheimer, and the scientists at the University of Chicago who had helped develop the first atomic weapon for the Manhattan Project, founded the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists to monitor this formidable but horrific development.
Two years later, they launched the Doomsday Clock, a powerful symbol to represent the urgency of acting to avoid humanity’s extinction. Every year since, the clock points out how close we are to midnight in the history of the world, meaning how close we are to bringing about our own apocalypse.
In the beginning, the clock was set at seven minutes to midnight, mainly because of the nuclear threat. It has changed 27 times.
This year, after evaluating Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the increase in the nuclear arsenal around the world, the climate crisis we are all now already suffering, the COVID-19 pandemic, and the threats brought by biosecurity and disruptive technologies, the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists reset the clock hands from 100 to 90 seconds—the closest it has ever been to midnight.
We must therefore realize that we are living at a decisive time in which we must all act swiftly and responsibly.
We face immense challenges ahead, as humanity always has.
There are countless conflicts across the planet. Not only the war on Ukraine, but also the wars in Asia and Africa. Today we have more than 100 conflicts, often overshadowed by the war in Europe but no less serious, such as the ones in Ethiopia and Sudan.
World leaders, like raving madmen, continue to bare their teeth at each other and some even threaten to use nuclear weapons that we thought were far, far from our reality.
Countries that were characterized by an anti-war culture are beginning to re-arm to contain this threat, and the funds that should go to fix social problems or create prosperity are once again financing an arms race.
Climate change has gone from being a sensible warning from a few scientists to a real existential emergency that threatens the survival of our planet and our kind.
It is sad, sad to see how, despite the world meetings held and the speeches made, the most powerful nations refuse to take concrete, measurable actions that protect the air and the water we all need to survive.
And now, we have a new existential threat straight out of science fiction. Many experts are warning us about Artificial Intelligence and its real dangers to humankind. Many scientists have even asked for a moratorium in its development, cautioning us that we must first learn to master A.I. before it masters us.
This threat is so real that one of the godfathers of A.I. resigned from Google recently because the tech giants, with their uncontrolled competition, are creating a monster that might very well devour us.
The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists saw this coming. They had included disruptive technologies as an existential threat four years ago.
Of course, A.I., like all technological breakthroughs, can be harmful or can be beneficial. It depends entirely on us and on our wisdom in using it.
The end of the world might seem closer than ever. So, is it time to despair? Should we abandon hope?
No! By all means, no! Humanity has overcome existential crises in its hundreds of
thousands of years on Earth, and I am certain, certain that we will be able to overcome the current ones.
Why? Because I am convinced that you are a generation of young people who have prepared yourselves to serve not only your country but the planet, not only your people but all people.
Like I said in my Nobel Lecture, in December 2016: When progress is based on exclusion, it is fragile and will ultimately disappear. However, when progress is based on inclusion, when we understand that everyone’s life is as valuable as our own, then that progress is lasting and real.
If we understand this, if we work together and are convinced that what happens to one happens to all the rest, we will one day see the hands of the Doomsday Clock move backward.
Because the present, not just the future, belongs to you.
Act with love, always with love, the greatest force in the universe.
Act responsibly and with empathy. Be aware of the privilege of your education and return to the world the gifts you have received.
And act with moderation, as your founding father George Washington recommended in his celebrated Farewell Address, remembering as he urged us to “cultivate peace and harmony with all.”
Be compassionate, be tolerant, and be simply good people, because out of compassion, tolerance, and kindness, a better world will be born.
***
I am grateful for the immense honor of being conferred an honorary degree by this great university. Today, like you, dear colleagues at the University of Notre Dame, I wear the colors and insignia of this campus.
Let’s raise our arms like Touchdown Jesus and say it, say it once again, with all our Գٳܲ…
Go Irish! Play like a Champion! Go Class of 2023!
Congratulations and many thanks!
]]>You know, graduates, we have recognized so many deserving people, but we have not yet recognized a group who is perhaps most deserving. Graduates, you would not be here were it not for the support, care and love of your parents, guardians and families. They have many, many times cheered for you. We need to recognize them. So graduates, I ask you to turn and applaud those without whom you would not be here: your parents and families, and those who are waiting for you.
Graduates, after much ceremony and many speeches, I have little to add by way of a charge, but this:Take what you have learned here at the University of Notre Dame and let it enable you to go forth and do good. Always be as generous as you can with your time, talent and all you have. In your family life, your professional life and your spiritual life, every day of your life, never forget that the charge for you as Notre Dame graduates is to be a force for good in this world. As President Santos said, find peace in yourselves that you can be peacemakers in this world.
Keep alive the friendships you formed here at Notre Dame, for they will provide joy, strength and comfort in the years ahead. They will be among the great treasures of your life.
Class of 2023, you will always have a special place in my heart because we have been through together, a global pandemic here at Notre Dame. As I often say, one of my true joys as President is to meet alumni of the University of Notre Dame all around the world and hear of their remarkable accomplishments and of their dedicated service. That will certainly be true for you, members of the class of 2023. I look forward to the time, years hence, when I will meet you and feel proud that you are graduates of the University of Notre Dame.
I am sure there will be challenges, frustrations, disappointments, and detours in your lives. Know that you are in our prayers here at Notre Dame, and wherever you go, and whatever happens in your life, you will always have a home at Notre Dame to renew your heart and refresh your spirit.
God bless you all.
]]>First, let us join in prayer.
Lord, we thank you for the gifts of learning and discovery, and the knowledge and understanding they engender. We at Notre Dame are dedicated to cultivating these gifts.
We thank you for our graduates, the class of 2023, who have learned and grown here at Notre Dame, and for the privilege we have had of walking with them.
We thank you for the parents, guardians, spouses and families of these graduates, and for the love and support they have given to bring our students to this day.
We ask for your special guidance and protection for these graduates as they go forth and use what they have learned at Notre Dame to heal, enlighten and unify a world deeply in need.
And we ask Notre Dame, Our Lady, to walk with and intercede for these graduates on their journeys, so that, in the words of her prayer, their souls may magnify the Lord and their spirit may rejoice in God.
We pray this in your name, Amen.
]]>Sister,
As the daughter of Irish immigrants, you were taught the value of hard work, education, a loving home, and gratitude for God’s many gifts. At the age 19, you dedicated your life to God and to serving those most in need by joining the Sisters of Mercy, and you began teaching in Chicago’s archdiocesan schools while continuing your own education.
When you were called to lead Misericordia Home on Chicago’s south side in 1969, you found that its young residents were well cared for—but given few opportunities to grow and develop their abilities. It was your forward-thinking and compassionate leadership that provided children with developmental disabilities the educational and recreational opportunities necessary to reach their full potential and to live the lives they deserve.
Through your vision, abiding faith, and selfless service for more than 50 years, Misericordia has grown into a thriving 37-acre community that now serves more than 600 children and adult residents and offers a wide range of vocational, educational, and therapy programs in a loving and nurturing environment. Along the way, you have been a source of hope and comfort for thousands of society’s most vulnerable people and those who care for them.
You have said of your residents that “each one is a unique gift to us today. A loving and loved person made by God with a purpose, no matter how wrapped in mystery that purpose may be.” Indeed, it is clear that you have also been placed in their lives as a gift from God and that, with His guidance, you have helped them to discern that purpose. In so doing, you have changed the lives of every person who has encountered Misericordia and created a new standard of compassionate care.
For your loving and determined advocacy on behalf of children and adults with disabilities, for your lifelong commitment to showing the merciful face of Christ to the world, and for your inspirational example at the helm—and heart—of Misericordia, the University of Notre Dame rejoices to confer upon you its highest honor, the Laetare Medal,
on
Sister Rosemary Connelly, R.S.M.
Chicago, Illinois
]]>For our address, it is a great pleasure for me to welcome back to Notre Dame the Honorable Juan Manuel Santos.
The President of Colombia from 2010 to 2018, this courageous and visionary statesman led his country through an arduous peace process, the first phase of which culminated in the signing of the historic Colombian Peace Agreement on November 24, 2016. This accord is celebrated as a major turning point in the country’s 52-year long armed conflict.
President Santos, in 2016, was the sole recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize for his pivotal role in ending the longest war in the Western Hemisphere. His speech to the Nobel committee in Oslo City Hall on December 10 of that year—delivered only two weeks after the final agreement was signed and one week after the Colombian Congress overwhelmingly ratified it—was eloquent and wise.
"It is much harder to make peace than to wage war,” he said, reminding his audience that the efforts to find peace through dialogue began 34 years earlier, and included multiple setbacks. Yet, he said, “a final victory through force, when nonviolent alternatives exist, is none other than the defeat of the human spirit.” When at all possible, we must pursue “dialogue…based on respect for the dignity of all.
In his Nobel Prize speech, President Santos acknowledged the work of the scholars of the Kroc Institute here at Notre Dame. We are proud and humbled that the Peace Agreement gives the University of Notre Dame’s Kroc Institute primary responsibility for technical verification and monitoring of implementation of the accord.
While President Santos has received many other recognitions for his work to promote peace, it is worth noting that he has also been recognized for his pioneering environmental policies to protect his country’s biodiversity and fight climate change. He was awarded the Royal Botanic Gardens Kew International Medal, the Wildlife Conservation Society Theodore Roosevelt Award for Conservation Leadership, and was honored by the National Geographic Society for his unwavering commitment to conservation.
President Santos, with gratitude for your persistent and successful efforts to launch a peace process that stands as a beacon of hope to a world engulfed in deadly conflicts, Notre Dame is proud to welcome you as our commencement speaker. President Santos.
]]>Fellow graduates, friends, family, and esteemed guests, welcome to the University of Notre Dame Class of 2023 commencement ceremony. It is an honor and privilege to be given the opportunity to share a few words with you and reminisce, for a moment, on our time as undergraduates.
The months leading up to graduation have been a time of great nostalgia and reflection. While we have all grown in our knowledge and understanding since arriving at Notre Dame, there was a time in my life when I did not always have a strong voice. As a kid, I struggled to pronounce the letter “R”, which posed an issue for someone named, “K-R-isten F-R-iday.” By the time I reached first grade, I was told to attend speech therapy. Once a week, I was singled out of regular classes and asked to read silly paragraphs aloud that were meaningless in content, but somehow important in improving my impediment. Initially, I was not phased at having to take this extra class. A few other students were in the same position, and I figured it was a normal growing pain some kids had to go through, similar to getting braces or learning long division for the first time. But then I noticed other students graduating in one, two, three years’ time, yet I remained.
I personally thought that I was making progress. However, this opinion was not affirmed externally. By the time I reached fifth grade, I had marginally improved. I was beginning to get to that point in my life of critical brain development, where my mind and personality were maturing at a rate a thousand times faster than my speech. Consequently, I was enrolled in an additional speech class outside of school. Despite attending multiple sessions a week, both in school and in my own personal time, I reached middle school to no avail. At this point, it was no longer a frustration, but an embarrassment. Every other student had graduated therapy classes, and I was the sole one left, struggling to annunciate the name of my homeroom teacher. The following year, my friends joked with me for mispronouncing a word as “fer-mur” in a presentation I delivered, of course not knowing how it affected me at the time. Eventually that year, I was told my speech was sufficient to leave the program. The announcement came with an overwhelming sense of joy, but also a deep sense of reservation: “Was that ALL I needed? Other peoples’ assurance that I was good enough?” I kept practicing public speaking in high school, pushed myself to the limits as we all did, and applied to Notre Dame. Much to my disappointment, I was initially deferred. With swollen eyes and deferral letter in hand, I immediately went back to questions of “Am I really good enough? Do outcomes define me? Am I going to let others decide my worth?”
Speech was just one flaw in my personal experience, but I wonder how many others have felt downtrodden by their imperfections? Having all eventually been accepted into Notre Dame, every one of us was challenged with living up to the expectations associated with entering a seemingly perfect environment where high school graduation speakers, captains of varsity sports teams, and leads in the musical became average. We were thrust into a whole new environment of intense academic stimulation, devoted to pursuing our every intellectual curiosity. We were challenged to take classes for the sake of learning. We were encouraged not just to do assignments for the sake of completion, but rather for the pursuit of general knowledge and free inquiry. It was also an essential time of self-reflection, asking us to decide how our external environments were going to affect us and how we were going to influence the world. One such classmate sitting before me truly embodies this experience. Electrical Engineering student John Sexton was personally affected by his dad’s diagnosis with ALS. Rather than accepting his dad’s limitations, John and his family took it upon themselves to develop a wheelchair controlled by eye movements, voice commands, and other features. John’s idea has since transformed into the startup named “LifeDrive” that will continue to empower those who have lost mobility in their power wheelchairs. John, and the rest of the Class of 2023, have been called to stand for the dedication, passion, and truth behind the Notre Dame mission which aims “to create a sense of human solidarity and concern for the common good that will bear fruit with learning becomes service to justice.” Our education posed the opportunity for us to decide how we would look to define ourselves and how to present our skills to the world. And we did not take it for granted.
For many of us, we defined ourselves with a global experience abroad, summers of service, or internships. One of our classmates, Christian McKernan, recognized the adversity his Ukrainian identity and community faced as a result of armed conflict and used his time as an undergraduate to provide support in Poland, aiding hundreds of thousands of refugees as they were displaced from their homes. Another such classmate, Quinton Hayre, was compelled by countries’ lack of access to clean water in the developing world and ventured to a remote village in Fiji to research reliable sources of filtration. And many more engaged in real-life applications of learning ranging from co-ops with Tesla to internships with the British Parliament. But whether that was the case for you or not, I believe it was an instrumental time of new perspective for all of us. These monumental experiences, while pivotal moments in our lives that we will look back on fondly, did not come without risks or uncertainty. It was, perhaps, the first time we lived on our own or fended for ourselves as adults. Maybe it was the first time we were pushed beyond the scope of our perceived limitations, thus raising the bar for our maximum potential. We navigated new cities, language barriers, and unique cultural customs, all without many of the familiarities we have been accustomed to. In taking those risks and venturing into the unknown, we gained a sense of adventure and global perspective that has led to a more expansive view of the world.
That being said, I am confident that not one of us took this journey alone. We, as Notre Dame students, have been encouraged by our peers, professors, mentors, family, and friends to be the best versions of ourselves. I witnessed fellow students going above and beyond to help one another, fostering an environment of collaboration over competition, and risking their own time and personal standing for others. The university, itself, aided our journey in recognizing the importance of an in-person community in the learning process, risking repercussions in the public eye, and furthering our understanding of what it means to be an academic with strong character. Few of us will remember the minute details of research papers or lab reports and assignments that warranted a Friday night in. Rather, what we will think back on is who we spent that time with and the attitude we carried as we sought out deeper relationships with our peers. Grounded by collaboration and compassion for others, we as a collective student body not only grew as resilient individuals, but also as members of a community much greater than ourselves. Notre Dame students epitomize the intersection of intellect and empathy, but not without risks.
Though Notre Dame provided the resources and support to get us anywhere we wanted to go, it was ultimately up to us to decide what that direction would point to. To put it bluntly: NOTRE DAME. WAS. DIFFICULT. But our experience prepared us to understand that LIFE. IS. DIFFICULT, and that accomplishing anything of value requires hard work. It is easy to look in hindsight and brush aside the challenges we faced, now knowing the outcome that we all indeed were able to make it to graduation. But dismissing the many long nights clocked studying for exams or the hours spent meticulously editing papers would be an injustice to the exponential growth and transformation we all endured. Some of us faced difficulties discerning which major to pursue. Some of us struggled to balance the time of a full Notre Dame course load on top of maintaining personal relationships, on top of interviewing for dozens of internships. Some of us may have even put in those hours of studying, contemplation, or job preparation, only to fall short or be rejected again and again. In the end though, it was those growing pains and times of frustration that served as catalysts for development. They taught us how to be inquisitive and seek help as well as how to humble ourselves in the face of abstract and unknown problems. Those risks to invest time and fall short or to work through personal difficulties is what drives us as students towards the highest level of academic excellence and towards critical formation of character.
Now looking back on how we have grown from our wide-eyed freshman selves, we realize how our limitations have stimulated our transformation and have develop our expertise in a multitude of ways. Having made it through four years of strenuous coursework, we are expected to be masters in our field of study. As teaching assistants, project leaders, and future professionals, we are now the ones fielding questions from the inquiring freshman that we once were. Owning our expertise is precisely the risk we carry forward for the rest of our lives and one that we must embrace head on. Even though we are young forces in the world, we have powerful voices and strong opinions that can help others in ways we may never imagine. While we certainly will still have questions going forward as lifelong learners, we should feel confident as Notre Dame graduates that we have grown to become self-assured, independent thinkers with a high degree of emotional intelligence, even with our weaknesses.
Will we stumble more in the future? Most certainly. But our setbacks do not define us as people. I have come to realize that we all have our letter “R”, that is to say, aspects of ourselves that are imperfect. We all wonder if we are good enough. We all wonder, and possibly fear, how others will perceive us. We all come from challenges, obstacles, disadvantages, and hardships in our own way. But what are the benefits of those risks? We, as the Class of 2023, are boldly moving on to become titans of industry with companies such as NASA, Microsoft, Boeing, and Goldman Sachs. Others as mavericks of art and architecture. A select group of devoted men and women as officers of the United States Military. Servants selflessly devoting a year of their lives to volunteer in the Peace Corp or teach with the Alliance for Catholic Education. Future doctors, lawyers, and professional engineers moving on to the most prestigious graduate programs in the world. And I, myself, standing before you today in front of the largest audience of my life, humbled and honored to speak as a representative of this university.
So let me leave you with this. We have been challenged the past four years to broaden our perspectives within the confines of Notre Dame. Now, we are tasked for the rest of our lives with using our skills for the greater good. We have learned the importance of risking failure, of seeking truth, and of taking leaps of faith, all for the purpose of being mindful, strong-willed, and contributing members of society. Only when we keep pushing and trusting in who we really are can we instill change. Even if the world says we stutter, even if admissions does not get it right the first time, even if our jobs and surroundings punch us down, we each individually have infinite value and there is a unique gift in all of us. As we learn to risk showcasing our authentic personality, weaknesses and all, we become a powerful force for good in society. The world will be a better place with our whole selves in it.
]]>As is our tradition at the University of Notre Dame, let us begin with prayer.
Almighty God, full of boundless love, we thank you for allowing us to be here with our friends, families, classmates, professors, staff, and guests to celebrate all we have been given as we commence the next stage of our lives.
We began our journey when we came to Our Lady’s University with no clarity of the road ahead or where it would lead us. Yet, we stepped out in faith as our families entrusted us to this place. We could not have made it here without them, our teachers, and mentors who guided us. Señor, te damos gracias, por estas personas que se entregaron a sí mismas para asegurarse de que pudiéramos prosperar.
The road has been long and difficult but you have supported us at each step. In the darkest of nights, after hours of studying, after tears and pain, we found solace. We also found professors and mentors, who shone the light for us in the darkness. We found dorm communities, classmates, and everlasting friendships. Our brothers and sisters who held our hands in the worst moments, who hugged us in the happiest moments, and who cherished us in the most vulnerable moments. We found your priestly servants and the staff of the University who listened to our cries, wiped our tears, and consoled us. We have also shared laughs, joy, and fellowship with these people. Thank you for all who have supported us along the way.
Soon, we embark on a new journey; one beyond the Golden Dome. We thank you for those who will walk with us and continue to support us. May we be attentive to all who need a helping hand and give of ourselves, united in Notre Dame, our Mother. In your mercy, may we always do what is just, bring joy and light to the world, and hope in the Cross. We ask this through Christ, our Lord. Amen.
Please be seated.
]]>Thank you Dean Fuja. Fr. President Jenkins, members of the Board of Trustees and the President’s Leadership Council, Deans of our colleges and schools, family and friends who have come from near and far to be present for this joyous occasion and most of all, members of the Graduate 91Ƶ class of 2023. Welcome. Let us give the graduates a loud, extended round of applause; it is the first of many rounds of applause they will hear this weekend and they deserve each and every one of them.
Some of you graduates have completed a master’s in global affairs, a master’s of fine arts in creative writing, or a Ph.D. in biology. Others finished a master’s in Divinity, a Ph.D. in computer science or a Ph.D. in Italian. All of you did much of this work in the teeth of an unprecedented global pandemic.
The current term of art is grit; boy have you shown it. When the pandemic halted travel and fieldwork, you pivoted. You mastered Zoom and Panopto. If you are parents, you navigated shuttered schools and day cares. You figured out how to prepare your posters and conference papers for online and then in person sessions. You completed those final seminar papers, lab write-ups and theses with masks on, or, a year later, with masks removed. During all this, you figured out the rhythms of graduate school. You met with advisors, taught students and labored over your c.v. You figured out why the one graduate student-themed pub had the mysterious name of Danny Boy. Some of you, I’m reliably informed, attended the occasional seminar or workshop only because the advertisement promised free pizza. Or better, free wine and beer.
But now what? Your research matters. As graduate students at Notre Dame, you’ve seen this phrase – Your research matters – over and over. You may have the graduate school t-shirt. (The less formal among you may be wearing that shirt right now beneath your robes.) You may display the screen saver on your computer screen; or sip from the water bottle.
But sometimes — in the chemistry lab or the sculpture studio or in the Medieval Institute library — believing that your research matters is hard. Doubt creeps in. I think back to my own graduate training. I entered my history Ph.D. program enthusiastically. I enjoyed the coursework, the scholarly camaraderie, and the intensive challenge of the first two years.
But after completing my coursework I wondered about what would come next. I struggled. Is this worth doing, I asked? Will it make any difference? Does it really matter? Only eventually did I figure out that I had something to say, a question to pursue. Something clicked.
Now no matter what program you are in, that transition from consumer to producer of knowledge is the heart of the graduate school experience. For you, too, something clicked. That that click occurred at Notre Dame makes us proud. We hope that you will leave here as a loyal alumnus or alumna of what we claim to be the leading global Catholic research university.
But we also hope for more. This morning probably marks the end of your formal academic training but it is the beginning of something else.
The term university covers a lot of ground: the U.S. has over 4,000 degree granting colleges and universities, China 3,000, India 1,400, Greenland and Monaco each have one. Why? Over the last hundred years universities and the ideas developed within them have become central to economic development, to skill acquisition and to preparing the employees and leaders needed by industry, governments, medicine, and actually universities themselves. All of this the world still needs. But we need more.
I won’t list all of the challenges we face. No one can. Climate change, economic inequality, war in Ukraine, South Sudan and elsewhere; political polarization. One especially poignant division in the United States — on culture, politics, and much else — is between those of us lucky enough to be seated on this podium or in this stadium, those of us lucky enough to have had a college or university education, and those of us who did not.
These problems and many more matter . Your work as scholars and citizens to resolve them will matter too.
Let me end with two stories.
One of the most prominent twentieth century economists was a man named Albert Hirschman, who ended his career at the Princeton Institute for Advanced Study. Hirschman was particularly interested in economic development and democracy in Latin America, and he did much of his work in the turbulent 1960s and 1970s, when both economic development and democracy faltered in that region. His most famous book was entitled Exit, Loyalty, and Voice. It addressed a particular question: what do you do when a business, or a political party, or even a nation is in decline or struggling? You could exit: become a patron of another business, leave the political party, emigrate from the nation.
Or you could exert voice: try and improve the business, the political party, or especially the nation.
This puzzle of exit, loyalty, voice applied with particular force to Latin America in the 1970s — after all do you work within an authoritarian government or do you leave and try to change it from the outside? — but it turns out there was a personal dimension to Hirshman’s scholarship too. Hirschman was Jewish, and he had barely escaped the Holocaust in 1940, moving from Berlin, where he was raised, to Paris and then hiking over the Pyrenees mountains into neutral Spain. Many members of his family were not so fortunate. That experience of exile and failed institutions shaped him and for the rest of his life it drove him to think about how to improve organizations in perilous times.
A second story is more local.
Notre Dame’s longtime President, Father Theodore Hesburgh, became in the 1970s interested in slowing down the nuclear arms race. He served on the Atomic Energy Commission in Vienna and he often on that topic. At one lecture in San Diego a woman in the audience approached him and engaged him in conversation. Could you really teach people, she asked, about peace and arms control and negotiations? Hesburgh said yes, but that you needed to build for the long haul, using endowments to fund programs for teachers and students. That woman turned out to be Joan Kroc, the widow of Ray Kroc, the founder of McDonald’s. She gave a series of major donations to Notre Dame that became the basis of the Kroc Institute for International Peace 91Ƶ.
And as you’ll hear tomorrow, among its other achievements, the Kroc Institute helped draft the comprehensive cease fire in Colombia, brokered by our commencement speaker Juan Manuel Santos, a treaty that ended that country’s decades long civil war.
Both Hirschman and Hesburgh – born just a few months apart – had much good fortune. But both also knew that research and teaching mattered, that the work they had done as graduate students and then as intellectual and institutional leaders might have meaning far beyond anything they could have imagined in their own lifetimes. That they happened to know each other – Hirschman visited Notre Dame several times and met Hesburgh – is a coincidence less important than their shared commitment to intellectual work.
We hope you take this commitment to teaching and research with you when you leave this room this morning and after this weekend when you leave this campus. We hope you exert voice and excel in your chosen fields.
Do so with the conviction that your research, your teaching, and your service matters for a world deeply in need. And do so with the grit and spirit that we hope you have cultivated during these extraordinary times and at this special place. Congratulations again to to 2023 graduates and Go Irish!
]]>Well, graduates, we are delighted to have you here and award you these degrees. After years of hard work and perseverance you did it. Today is your day as these cheers attest.
But, while these accomplishments are truly your own, you know you did not do it all on your own. You may have done the studying, but your families and loved ones did the sweating and stressing along with you. They cheered your successes and cheered you up with your setbacks. Many of them are sitting behind you today, and they have been behind you every step of the way to reach this milestone. So, to you mothers and fathers, siblings and spouses, friends and relatives: Thank you and congratulations. This day also belongs to you as well. And graduates, let’s stand, turn and applaud those who have supported you to get to this day.
This is a distinguished class, boasting many accolades and accomplishments in every field and discipline. In addition to your accomplishments within your respective disciplines, you have learned how to meet the rigorous standards of your academic programs while managing, as Provost McGreevy reminded us, the special challenges brought on by a global pandemic. You may merit a second degree for that. We will not bestow that degree, but the lessons in perseverance, flexibility, and adaptability you have learned here will, I believe, serve you well in coming years.
Your degrees represent a major step forward in your lives, as well as in the life of the University of Notre Dame, as a university traditionally known for undergraduate education increasingly takes its place among distinguished graduate programs in the world. This growth is due not only to our distinguished faculty and academic leaders, but also to your scholarly contributions, you our graduates, that you have made and will make. We are proud to call you our graduates.
Your degrees too represent what you, through your talent and hard work, have accomplished, and your promise for the future. They give you the right to expect much as you go out into the world; they also indicate what the world has a right to expect of you.
What can the world expect? Certainly, the highest level of learning and skill in your fields. But at Notre Dame we hope for more.
We hope you will use the advantages of your education you have received here for the common good. We hope that you will use your talents and skills not simply to serve your own interests but to care for the neediest and create a more just society. We hope that you acquired here not only the knowledge to make a good living, but the wisdom to live a good life.
A critical part of living such a life is realizing that you are called to use your learning for a purpose beyond yourself. As Pope Francis said, “We must not forget that true power, at whatever level, is service.” My hope for each of you is that you, no matter where you go or what your field, is that you will find and direct your learning and efforts to service.
Graduates, we congratulate you, we celebrate you, and we wish you every success. Thank you for your presence here with us over recent years. We look forward to learning more of the great things you will do with what you have learned here at Notre Dame.
Before I close, I want to take an opportunity to thank one more person. Tom Fuja has served this year as Interim Vice President and Associate Provost for Graduate 91Ƶ and Interim Dean of the Graduate 91Ƶ. Tom stepped into this role in the midst of a significant transition, and he has admirably navigated these new responsibilities and provided steady leadership for our graduate education. Tom, you have been a generous and selfless servant of this university and its students. We could not be more grateful. Please join me in thanking Dean Fuja.
And now let us close with a brief prayer. Let us pray:
Of all the gifts you have bestowed on us, Lord,
None is greater than giving us intellects to seek truth, to learn and to understand your creation.
We thank you for these graduates who have labored so hard to learn and to understand.
We ask that you guide them to use what they have learned to go forth and serve this world.
And we pray this in your name. Amen.
God bless you all.
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