Surviving the Rite of Passage

Graduation Speech for Hyland Christian School
Class of 2014

I am very happy to be here with you for the Hyland Graduation of 2014. But I have to say—as far as rites of passage go, this is all pretty wimpy.

You may not realize it, but in other places, there are more impressive ways to demonstrate that someone has “graduated.”

There’s a country where if you want to prove it’s time for you to move on to being an adult, you go out and hunt a lion.

In 18^th Century Hawaii, you had to jump off a cliff into the ocean.

In one culture, “graduation” involves gathering up a herd of cows and when they’ve got a decent herd clustered together, you have to run across their backs from one end to the other.

In another place, they take a pair of gloves and fill them with hundreds of bullet ants. They say the bite from one of these ants is 20 times more painful than a wasp sting. To “graduate,” you have to wear the gloves for 10 minutes.

But I think the most impressive rite of passage is found in Vanuatu. First, you build a tower out of sticks—98 feet high. Then you climb the tower to the very top, tie a vine to your ankle, and then jump headfirst. The goal is to make the vine just long enough. If it’s too short and you don’t even touch the ground, you fail. If it’s too long, you epic fail. The idea is to hit the ground—just barely, just enough for your head to touch.

I don’t suppose any of you seniors were planning on doing that.

If you did have to do any of these things tonight—hunt a lion, jump off a cliff, run across the backs of a herd of cows, wear bullet any gloves, or jump headfirst from a Jenga tower made of sticks—I bet you could have charged admission.

Admit it—relatively speaking, tonight you have it pretty easy. This is all right, I guess. There are some intimidating aspects of this ceremony. You have to stand up in front of a bunch of people. You have to wear the funny hat and the dress.

Did any of you think about that? Did any of you wonder why you’re dressed that?

You know why? Because that’s how graduating seniors dress.

Interestingly enough, the long robe idea started a long time ago simply because the hallowed halls of ancient higher education were notoriously cold. But it’s not cold in here. I guess you have to chalk it up to tradition.

There is at least one definite purpose for your outfit right now. It makes you really stand out. I mean you’re not really blending in at all. And this is good. People can pick you out easily in the crowd. You’re up here on the front row in plain sight, but even if you went and sat somewhere else in the auditorium, we could spot you pretty easily. After we’re dismissed and someone is looking for you, we’ll just point you out. See that thing dressed like Voldemort with a chess board on his head?

Anyway, for a little while tonight, it will be almost impossible for you to not stand out.

However, you probably know the reality of the situation. Not very long from now, you will look just like everyone else. There might be times like this in the future where you’re not just one of the crowd, but for the most part, you will blend in with the rest of humanity—just another drop in the ocean. Right now, you’re one of four. Tomorrow morning, you’ll be one of 7 billion.

More than likely, everyone senses this to some extent. And for the most part, none of us really like the idea. Even the most reclusive or shy person didn’t like the idea. It’s not that they want to be the center of attention. Deep down, for all of us—it just comes down to a very simply thing. We just want to matter. No one wants to be reduced to a number. Inside all of us is a universal, basic fear—the fear of being nobody.

This is what drives the decisions of a lot of people. Sensing they are fading into the oblivion of the general population, some resort to decoration. They focus on their clothes or their hair or their face. They will accessorize, stylize, glamorize, romanticize, idolize, and maybe even tranquilize. Some will even jazzercise. But very few will realize—that exterior decoration doesn’t really accomplish much. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with wanting to look nice. But the truth is inevitably revealed. The body you walk around is as permanent as a perm.

Trying to stand out from the rest of the world through exterior decorating is kind of ironic. It’s kind of a funny wake-up call, after you bedazzle yourself and then realize that this is exactly what everyone else is doing. In trying to not stand out from the flock, all you’ve done is just joined up with another flock. And then there you are—standing there sheepishly. With the wool pulled over your eyes.

The point is this. You can’t truly redefine yourself and be more than a standard issue human being, simply by changing your appearance.

There’s nothing wrong with checking your hair before you leave for the day. But it’s going to take more than superficial upgrades if you really want to not be nobody. (Yes, I teach English)

There are some people who know that if you really want to matter, it’s going to take more than your image. You have to go deeper. It’s not who you appear to be. It’s what you do.

Think of this way. Whereas most people merely live their lives as adjective, you have to become a verb. An action word. (Yes, I teach English).

In order to really live life, you have to do something. You can’t just look like something.

The people who know this, set out to do something. Maybe something big. And again, it’s not that they necessarily want the attention. It comes back to the basic truth of all of us. They just want to matter.

It’s impressive when some of the people figure out that the reality of who they are is in their actions. It seems like a few people know this. But I’m going to tell you something that even fewer people know.

Taking action—doing stuff—even big stuff you do for other people. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter.

No matter how much money you give away, no matter how many people you feed, no matter how many diseases you cure—it doesn’t matter. It all fades. All the philanthropy and goodwill that took place a century ago are all but forgotten. Sure there are faint echoes of appreciation today. But it’s just a matter of time. It’s a startling realization. Someday, someone is going to say your name to someone else. And that other person is going to say, “Who?”

You might be thinking—but if you do something really big and your name ends up in a history book, then this isn’t going to happen. But you and I both know. The great majority of the people don’t know the difference between George Washington, George Washington Carver, or George Clooney.

No matter how much of an admirable ruckus you make during your handful of decades, in all reality, it’s not going to accomplish anything that lasts. Not really.

There’s a happier ending here. But you have to go deeper.

When it comes to building model airplanes, there are basically two kinds of people. Those who follow the directions and those who don’t.

I was the kind who didn’t follow directions. And my airplane never looked like the airplane on the box—sleek and flying through the clouds. My airplane always looked like an airplane that had been shot down.

When it comes to living life, if you want a life that matter, there is really only one option. You have to follow the directions. And that means including God. It just makes sense. If He really is the One who created your life, it’s only basic logic that you include him in the actual running of your life. It’s only basic logic that you would follow the directions that He wrote down for you in the Bible.

Most people don’t follow the directions. This is why you are primarily surrounded by sad people. They might have some good times and be laughing part of the time, but underneath, there is no real purpose. At best, they’ve broken even. The days are just days.

The only way to accomplish anything is this very temporary life is to include God. This is not just a nice option for those who have a propensity for being “spiritual.” It is the only option for any human being. It is not the life choice or a belief system for a chosen few. It is the only choice that gives your life life. It is the only system that deserves our belief.

I want to make the most of tonight. When you get the chance to speak to graduating seniors—to maybe say one last thing that might stay with them for a while—you don’t want to hand out candy.

So I’m telling it like it is. The only way to live a life that matters is to turn that life over to God. To belong to Jesus. Interestingly enough, God uses the image of clothing to make His point in Galatians 3. “For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.” So I take it back. Who you are can be defined by what you wear.

Jesus didn’t really pull any punches or tip-toe around the issue as far as life with Him vs. life without Him. He said, “I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me, and I in him, he bears much fruit; for apart from Me you can do nothing.” The only life that is truly life is when someone is “abiding” in Jesus—living every day with Him leading the way. Without him, the sum total of all your efforts is zero.

And don’t be fooled. Accept no imitation. People who claim the name Christian are a dime a dozen. For them, the word is just an accessory. It’s just an image thing or at best a spiritual sedative. When it comes to every day choices, there’s no real difference between them and everyone else.

So when I use the term “Christian,” I’m talking about the real deal. Belonging to God completely and living every day for him no matter what it might cost you. There is no other version.

This isn’t easy to hear, I know. But I have some more disconcerting news. Remember how I told you that you won’t have to be jumping off a tower? I sort of lied.

There will be no terrifying, death-defying rite of passage tonight. It will be happening in the morning.

You’ve been building a tower for about 18 years. Now you’re going to leap off it. Which brings an accidental bonus significance to the phrase that Jesus said: “I am the vine.”

Life is a lot like falling. You can’t stop yourself from plunging through the years. No matter what you do, you keep falling. In fact, just like leaping from a 98-foot tall tower made of sticks, as time goes by, you seem to fall faster.

But you might survive. You’ve got one chance. The vine.

Tie yourself to the vine now. Make sure it’s secure. It’s much harder to do it after you’ve jumped.  Do it as soon as you can. Because living your life without Jesus—it might be a thrill on the way down. But it does not end well. It’s like the old joke. It’s not the fall that kills you. It’s the sudden stop.

This is a great night. I’m very happy for you. I’m glad you are being recognized for your accomplishments and that you have exciting possibilities ahead of you. But there are also challenges ahead. Sometimes, it will feel like you’re trying maneuver your way across the backs of a bunch of cows. Sometimes, it will seem as if someone has put bullet ants in your gloves. But I’m willing to bet that most of the time—it’s going to seem like you’ve jumped out into the open air. Occasionally, there will be a feeling of freedom and excitement. But mostly, there will be the undeniable fact that the ground is approaching fast. And if you haven’t done it—and I would recommend this to anyone within earshot—make sure you’re tied to the vine. Otherwise, no matter how many laughs you have on the way down, the punch line isn’t that funny.

I’m almost finished. And so are you. You’ll be getting your diploma here in a few minutes. Then you can visit with your family and friends. Whether or not you leave your graduation outfit on is up to you. But I would highly recommend, when you take the leap into life, that you make sure you put on Christ. I would recommend that you hold fast to Him. Make sure to allow him to hold fast to you.

And I hope you have a wonderful flight.