The graduating class of 2014 might not even have been there.
One need only read the transcript or watch the video of Eric Metaxas’s speech at May’s commencement to realize there was only a single mention of the graduates seated before him. That mention came at the very beginning of the address.
For the remainder of the 22-minute lecture titled “The Role of Faith in the Story of Freedom,” Metaxas offered a brief narrative of his own political upbringing, several plugs for his websites, books, and radio shows, and a reference to the festively-named “Golden Triangle of Freedom.”
Now, it is not my sole intention to criticize the content of Metaxas’s speech. I admit that I struggle to recall any mention of a Golden Triangle of Freedom in the debates surrounding the Constitution, and explicitly disagree with the assertion that faith and religion flourish only in an environment of freedom. Students and faculty alike flinched when he claimed that Lincoln believed America to be chosen by God to represent Him and His purpose in history. But this is not my point.
My problem with Metaxas’s commencement speech is simple: It was not a commencement speech at all.
Missing were the pithy quotes about living a good and beautiful life. No advice was given about family or friends, tax returns or toasters. There was never even a connection drawn between the content of the speech, religious freedom, and the robed audience for which it was supposedly intended. This is not the formula for a good commencement address.
It should be noted that this speech was a surprise for any who knew of Metaxas and his work. His biography on Bonhoeffer is fantastic, and his more recent book on great men of faith has been well-received. In fact, many of his other speeches and lectures are thought-provoking and engaging. So why were so many brows furrowed during his address just a few months ago?
In short, his speech missed the point. A commencement address should be intended for those commencing the rest of their lives. Prospective students are hungry for lectures on economic freedom and grand historical narratives. Donors want to hear about the war against Progressivism and moral decay in America. This does not diminish these serious, important subjects. But we must think of the audience: 300-some excited, scared, ecstatic, worried, liberally-educated individuals. And all about to laugh with, cry with, and leave the best friends they have ever had.
So what do they need to hear that Metaxas didn’t offer to them? For starters, the tired-but-true affirmation that it will be okay. The last thing that young men and women want to hear as they begin the next chapter of their lives is that there is little hope before darkness overtakes all. The danger to religious liberty is important and should be mentioned — but it must be followed with why hope abides and how we can help it. After all, focusing on the shadows makes one blind to the light.
The topic of Metaxas’s speech should be discussed in publications like Imprimis, the various marketing campaigns, or the Collegian. But not at commencement, to the exclusion of Hillsdale’s most recent graduates. Metaxas squandered the ideal chance to tell them why four years at an isolated, tiny liberal arts college will ultimately prove to be the best decision they have ever made, especially when faced with unemployment, adversity, and fear.
Our college’s greatest asset will always be the men and women it helps nurture and shape. They should be the focus of a commencement address, because it is the commencement of their lives after Hillsdale we care about most.
