Mr. Richard Miltenberger, B.A., Class of 2005
Student Address
Commencement 2005
President Atwood, ladies and gentlemen, fellow students, members of the faculty, Mom and Dad, friends, relatives, parents, grandparents, distinguished guests, normal guests, people off the street looking for a free hors d'oeuvre-- I welcome you all on behalf of the class of 2005.
First of all I’d like to say that if anyone were to market a breathable academic robe, they could make a lot of money.
I’m afraid that some of the professors were concerned when they heard I was going to be speaking. However, I’m sure they were relieved when I changed the title of my speech from “Redneck Wisdom” to “Building on the Foundation.” But there’s no need to worry, I won’t tell any jokes that wouldn’t be appropriate at say, a rugby match, or a poker hall--or Dr. Atwood‘s prayer breakfast--I promise.
Today is about us, the graduates. We, the happy we, who have made it the full four years, for some of us the full two. Four years of the life of a liberal arts student. Four years of whining about grades, eating noodles, and wearing cheap neckties. We will never forget the hours spent in painstaking study, the psychological wasteland of the study group, and the gut wrenching history outlines we had to work out. Yes, Mr. Schlect, I said we would never forget.
Years spent in toil, agonizing over term papers and presentations, staying awake through Dr. Atwood’s soporific lectures; all for this day: and we don’t even get tasseled caps.
But that doesn’t matter. It’s not the formality that any of us came for anyway. When we got here New Saint Andrews didn’t have a real building--it hardly had a bathroom. We came for the singular vision and distinctive curriculum that defines this institution. We came for the close discussions, the 3 feet of books a year, and the horrible winters.
But many of us are leaving now, and the real world lies ahead, waiting patiently with outstretched arms, and very sharp claws. The real world is ready for us. Are we ready for it? It would eat us if it could, but we won’t let it. That’s because we got some serious preparation here at New Saint Andrews. You might call it worldview immersion. You might call it weirdo immersion. But for all our high pants and white socks, we still got whipped into shape. The point is our nerds can beat up their nerds any day.
This is a commencement. We call it commencement because it’s a beginning, not an end. For the graduate, it is a beginning to the realization that you are going to die. You are no longer invincible, and probably should go on a diet. A beginning to the realization that if you continue to sleep till ten in the morning, people will call you names. A beginning to the sad realization that money is everything. The real world is staring us in the face.
The real world wants to claim us. It wants to envelop us, assimilate us, make us punch its clock. New Saint Andrews prepares young people to stand up against this. The real world looks good, but it doesn’t have historic Christianity, classical studies, aesthetic wisdom, and a theatre with squeaky seats and no air conditioning. What can the real world do against that? Well, it might touchee by saying that we’re not a real college; and then, as usual, our feelings would get hurt.
But that’s what I want to address here today: the education we have received at New Saint Andrews is invaluable, and the so called “real world” doesn’t know why. And it is our task to make them know why.
Our theology affects what we do here at New St Andrews, and that is the main thing it is here to teach us. Good theology molds good people. Learning to have a faithful life is the most important thing to teach. Latin verbs are only second. And huffing and puffing in last place, comes literary criticism. Sorry, Dr. Leithart.
The faculty has a definite vision for the students here at New St Andrews.
It takes a while for it all to sink in: that is, what exactly they are doing to you here at the college, but it eventually hits you as you go along. The real education is in the community. The accountability and faithfulness that abounds affects everyone who comes near it. Most people who come to this college change somehow, and then move on touch other lives, or stay here and become a dishwasher. This is how we affect culture.
We are taught here to act on our faith and to use our knowledge. It definitely can’t stop here with the receipt of a diploma.
What we have learned here must be only the beginning. A true Christian culture never stops growing and maturing. There is no status quo; there is either growth or atrophy. This means that whatever we do in this life must make life better.
Some of us here today are filled with excitement and hope as to what the future holds; and some of us are just staring at our shoes, hoping the ceremony will end soon. Either way, we’ve come a long way together, and you know, its been good.
So I thought I’d talk a little about my experience here at New Saint Andrews. Four years ago, I came here wet behind the ears. That’s because I had been swimming ten minutes before. I was a fresh kid, wearing my khaki pants, loafers, and a nervous smile. Like many of us who arrive here, you could tell I was home schooled by the way I had my hands in my pockets and looked at the ground. I also used a hairbrush.
But we weren’t all that way. Our class was diverse. It included a hell’s angel, an NPR announcer, someone who looked like Aragorn, and David Williams.
Together we helped make changes and forge new policies to make the college what it is today. Such influences included the necessity of the late fee, and also the non-thesis option for graduation.
Of all classes that have come through New Saint Andrews, ours has seen more changes than any. For our first lectures we met in the broom closet of H & R Block. The room was stuffy and the wooden chairs were hard, but I suppose they helped form our character, as well as our backsides. We now have a building. To finally have a real brick building that looks like a college is just too much. God has greatly blessed us. The college has grown greatly, in wisdom and in academic integrity. We have a member from an accreditation body here today. Hey, we are on our way to being the decent American college of tomorrow.
Along the way we’ve had some good times:
There was the time when Nethaniel Ealy fell asleep in class and hit his head on the wall.
There was the time when we made a propaganda video against Woelke Leithart, the Totalitarian Librarian.
There was, of course, New Saint Atwood’s College of Corporal Punishment, and
There was the time when Batman and Robin came to Disputatio.
It’s been a good life.
So what should we do with this piece of paper we call a diploma? Well, you could frame it. It took us long enough to get it. But more importantly, we should take the knowledge that diploma represents and use it to the best of our ability. We can’t forget about it.
The world wants us to hang it on the wall; I say we should slip it under their shoe and light it on fire.
Some people ask us: “what are you going to do with your education?“ and the question is a legitimate one. Learning ought not to be just for fun. We should do something with it. The difference is what they mean by do. They mean, of course, “how much money are you going to make with your online-degree-from-University-of-Phoenix-equivalent liberal arts degree? Is it really useful?”
To which I answer: “Yes. The liberal arts are not useless; I’ve used them many a time to win at scrabble.” But of course, there are more uses than that. But that’s not the point. We must not look at our education in mere terms of usefulness. That is an idea that comes straight from the modernist. Our education, rather, is obedience. We are called to take every thought captive to Christ, and this includes thinking about things beyond the machine of the real world; beyond money.
This is not worked out in an ethereal meditation of philosophy, or contemplation of heavenly things. We are not called to merely “think outside the box.” We are called to think inside the box, to think about the box itself, about what’s inside the box and where we fit into it. We should make the box beautiful, plant trees in the box, and convert all the pagans in the box. Then we can move on to another box.
Many people say we should only pay for education that will get us higher salaries. But here at New Saint Andrews, we pay for education that will give us a higher appreciation for life itself. I would trade any amount of money for a Biblical vision of the world, for sanctification in writing and speaking and imitating the Creator. But this is foolishness to the world. The goal of the American barcalounger is to add that next zero to the figures on his paycheck; but that’s exactly what it is: Zero. Without the satisfaction God gives to a believer, he will not enjoy it.
So fellow graduates, don’t stop here. If you are punching a clock, don’t forget your chiasms. If you are caught up in the real world, don’t become a cog in the machine: read Russian novels. And if Russian novels make you depressed, read American novels. This diploma we are receiving should be symbolic not only of the four years we spent here, but also the beginning of a lifetime of Biblical learning.
Class of 2005!
Thank you.
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