June 22, 2015

Speech

Yes, this is still cheating, but I have been writing a story, and will type a bit of it within the next few days. Until then, here is the speech I gave at my graduation. I hope you enjoy it.

If you all had seen me this morning, jogging back to my apartment with no shoes, hair unbrushed, and my freshly printed valedictory speech in my hand, you would have gotten a pretty clear picture of my life at Saint Katherine.  My mind is swirling with stories as I stand up here, and what I want to do at this moment is tell you about the time Ariel and I stayed up talking so late that she wondered if we were ethically required to paint our nails, and when Hannah logically concluded that we had to eat all the ice cream, and when Ben said something uncouth just to put my brother at ease during his first visit, and when Josiah and I spent the entire day watching Marvel films, broken only by a run for onion rings and milkshakes.  But, even if you enjoyed the stories, you would not fully understand them.  What I want to give you is the joy of them, and although these are my joys, you all have your own.  What I want to tell you about today, then, is how God has answered my prayer for joy.  During my time at school, through the influence some truly wonderful classes, excellent Professors, and dear friends, I have come to know, if only in a small way, what George MacDonald knew when he said that “One day, we shall laugh ourselves to scorn that we looked for so little from [God]; for [His] giving will not be limited by our hoping."
 At the beginning of this semester I found myself lacking in hope, and therefore incapable of joy.  This is a lack I have not often suffered from, simply because my life thus far has been a muddle of miracles.  God has been so very good to me that, in consequence I have sometimes thought myself in possession of too much hope.  Joy and hope are inextricably linked, and if we can count childishness as an expression of joy, then there are several people here today who can attest to some joy in me.  My own baby brother, who is now seventeen and much taller than I am, has concluded that I am eternally six years old.
At the moment, I have three icons of saints:  Saint Andrew the Apostle, which is actually the back of my home parish’s business card, Saint Jude the Apostle, also called Thaddeus, and Saint Sarah, the wife of Abraham.  When, a couple months ago, I finally stopped thinking that I could force myself to feel joyful again, I began to ask God to give me joy.  While praying, I thought about who exactly Saint Jude and Saint Sarah are, and I asked them for help, as well.
My story with Saint Jude begins before I knew him.  My mother, during a troubled time, learned his prayer upon seeing it in a newspaper.  I knew little of him until last year, when my friend introduced me to a book and show following the adventures of a priest and curate in a Parish dedicated to the saint.  Saint Jude is the Patron of lost causes and hopeless situations, so the little Saint Jude pin my friend gave me (which I have right here) was given as much as a teasing insult as a friendly token.  You can imagine, surely, the wonderful jokes regarding the fact that I have, twice, nearly lost the pin -- even Saint Jude has given up on me.  As I prayed, I could hardly presume myself to be in a hopeless situation.  My only real situation was feeling hopeless, but still, I asked Saint Jude to give me hope.
I am sure I do not speak only for myself when I profess a feeling of apprenticeship in regard to my namesake, who for me, of course, is Saint Sarah, the wife of Abraham.  As a young child I liked my name, though the story of my middle name (involving a film star and a wager) is far more fun to tell.  However, as I grew older, I discovered three reasons to dislike it.  Firstly, the name Sara means “Princess,” and though my parents always told me that it meant “God’s Princess,” every fictional character I encountered who shared my name was spoilt and petulant.  Secondly, I took issue with my namesake, Saint Sarah.  Her treatment of Hagar appalled me, and I felt the guilt of it.  Lastly, and this didn’t start until I grew older, others pointed out how Saint Sarah laughed at God.  What kind of person laughs at God?  On her behalf, I was humiliated.
As a Chrismation gift from my parents, I received a medal of Saint Sarah (which I have right here), and learned that she is the Patron Saint of laughter.  All at once I saw my saint in a true way.  Over two years at this school I made friends who, to their possible chagrin, know how much I love them, and now I am convinced that there is nothing more beautiful than the laughter of someone close to your heart.  Laughter is but the embodiment of joy, and my saint is the saint of laughter.
I wish I could explain to you how fully God answered my prayer.  I thought joy was a gift I had been given from childhood, and it is, but when I asked God for joy, He gave me a glimpse of Paradise.  I know that I cannot tell you much about it, not only because I am little more than a child, but because it is a joy which overwhelms, though God is so great, I know I have had only the tiniest taste of it.
One of my favorite of all the classes I have taken at Saint Katherine is Professor Gilbert’s “Person and Society,” which I was lucky enough to take with both Arianna and Lauren.  The  specific picture I have of them in class is as a part of the day we made Professor Gilbert question reality.  Ben and Quinn were making puns, Arianna was heartily laughing at them, Josiah and I burst into song, and Lauren just looked at us all incredulously.  Professor Gilbert sat down before us all and asked, “Where am I?”  Amidst all the antics, we studied a number of excellent books, one of which was C.S. Lewis’s Till We Have Faces.  Believe it or not, it is not a requirement to quote Lewis in a valedictory address at Saint Katherine College.  It just happens.  Anyway, the words I want to share with you are from Psyche.  She says,  “It was when I was happiest that I longed most...The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing...to find the place where all the beauty came from.”
At Saint Katherine College, we increase our joy by learning about where the beauty came from, and striving together to come closer to that place.  Thank you all so much for coming, and thank you for giving the three of us the chance to travel so much further.  I wish you all hot tea, beautiful fairy tales, and all the joy God has waiting for you.  Thank you.