Life at New Saint Andrews:
A Different Sort of Story

An Address by Josiah Barak Helsel
B.A., Summa Cum Laude, Class of 2004
at the College's Seventh Commencement

May 12, 2004






Other Commencement 2004 Addresses
Dr. Elizabeth Fox-Genovese, Emory University (in absentia): "The Freedom of the Academy: Cui Bono?"
Dr. Gordon Wilson, Fellow of Natural Philosophy: "The Love of Learning"
Dr. Peter Leithart, Senior Fellow of Theology and Literature: "Enemies"
Dr. Roy Atwood, Dean and Senior Fellow of Humanities: "A Final Charge to the Graduates"

Graduation Photo Album click here.

Perhaps the best way to begin this is with a short anecdote.

Nearly four years ago, our class was full of youthful zeal, enthusiasm, and class spirit. We were freshman in Moscow, the land where psalms were long, courtships were short, and facial hair was a sign of orthodoxy. All seemed as it should be, and then this peaceful existence was interrupted by the news that our class needed to take a test, called the “Moral Reasoning Exam”. Our instructors were rather hazy about the details, but if we failed, then they assured us that we would need to do some remedial work over Christmas Break. So we all assembled to take the test, and quickly discovered that this was unlike any test we had ever taken before. We were given twenty minutes to answer ten questions, which included questions like “You are staying at your grandmother’s house for the night, and over your bed hangs a crucifix. Taking into account the Biblical example of Gideon and King Josiah, should you treat it like an idol and stomp it underfoot or leave it on the wall and do nothing?” Or better yet, “A 36 year old man wants to court a 19 year old girl. Her father says yes, but the young lady refuses and appeals to the elder board. The elders agree with her father and say that she must court the man. What should she do? Cite at least three Biblical passages to support your argument.” One of us, whose name will not be given because he is so closely related to Dr. Leithart, smoked right through the exam. But most of us did what freshmen do so well – we freaked out.

As it turned out, that was exactly what the exam was meant to do, since the whole thing was actually a sort of classical Christian hazing. The exam had been written and administered as a prank by the senior class of that year. In retrospect, it really was a funny joke, but what is even funnier is the fact that we were not amused, at least, not for a while. We took everything about Moscow pretty seriously back then, including ourselves.

George Bernard Shaw once said “when something is funny, search it carefully for a hidden truth.” The truth in this story is that the Moral Reasoning Exam was exactly what we needed at the time. And ironically, the rest of our education at NSA has reinforced the same point, which is that there are many things in life which should be taken very seriously, but your self is not one of them. Education at NSA is about humility.

It is humbling because NSA really makes you realize that there are many things in this world that need to be taken far more seriously than you ever have. Things like music, philosophy, culture, theology, and the art of living well suddenly take on a new significance. You realize that the world is much bigger place than you had thought.

But of course, if NSA only expanded one’s horizons, then it wouldn’t have been any different from hundreds of other colleges across the world, where you could also find an education that would do the same. The difference is that most of these places spend so much time thinking about hard truths that they develop hard heads. Somehow, they think that because they take truth so seriously, they have a right to take themselves seriously as well. Somehow, they take the very thing that ought to have made humble, and make it the capstone of their pride.

New Saint Andrews is not completely safe from this way of thinking, but one of the things that we have appreciated most about being here is that it has strongly discouraged us from taking ourselves too seriously. Sometimes it has taken the direct form of a Moral Reasoning Exam. But for the most part, it has been a part of the air we breathe. It’s part of the atmosphere of the classroom and usually it comes out in how often we laugh. I can hardly remember a class period when we did not laugh. Some might call this frivolous and others might call it an amateurish approach to academics. But both miss the mark. The truths of theology aren’t funny in themselves, but the idea of us studying all of them is.

The truth is, New Saint Andrews has preached about the serious things in life while warning us away from becoming too serious ourselves. This shows up in the oddest ways. It shows up in the fact that we take art seriously enough to have art and architecture presentations in front of the whole student body at Disputatio. And yet, some of us give these presentations wearing German lederhosen. We take language seriously enough to teach every student at least a year and a half of Latin. But to show our appreciation, we make Kung Fu videos with Latin speaking actors and no subtitles. Some might say this is no appreciation for Latin or art at all. I think it is a better appreciation than the sort you will find at Harvard or Yale.

And for all this, we have our instructors to thank (some more than others), for creating and sustaining this attitude toward life. As Robert Grudin has put it, “An ordinary teacher weighs and bags ideas like potatoes; a skilled teacher makes them open up like flowers from a bud.” The metaphor is very apt, because anyone who has bagged potatoes and tried his hand at gardening knows that the gardening is far more difficult. It requires patience, skill, and loving care for each plant under your charge. And yet, I am very glad to say that our teachers have humbly played the part of the gardener. They have made us part of their lives and invited us into their homes. They have not only taught us, but molded us into the people we are. We stand here as graduates and it is glorious moment, but we stand here because we were given all this.

G. K. Chesterton once pointed out that “Men did not love Rome because she was great; Rome was great because men loved her.” In the same way, NSA is a great place, but not because of any intrinsic value. NSA is a wonderful place because of the way that our instructors have given their lives for the ideas that created NSA in the first place.

And yet, in an ironic twist of fate, the time of triumph is nearly always one of the most dangerous moments in the battle. The constant danger is that the victory will change the victors so much that they lose the very things they fought for. Triumph often begets pride, and pride usually destroys a person or a cause far more effectively than any other enemy. I can think of no better example of this than the story of Alexander the Great, one of the greatest men that Ancient Greece ever produced. There are dozens of stories about his magnanimity, his kindness, his leadership, his boldness, and even of his humility (though by and large, he was not a humble man). And with these virtues, he created an empire in ten short years which dwarfed every empire that the world had seen up to that point. But by the time that he died at the age of thirty-three, it was quite apparent that his victories had gotten the better of him. By the end of his life, he had become a drunkard; he had murdered one of his best friends in a fit of rage; he had adopted the styles and customs of the lands he defeated and he became exactly like the debauched kings that he had set out to conquer, so that even though he conquered the world, the world had the last laugh.

But there is another way to react to the moment of triumph. During the Mexican War, Robert E. Lee was a Captain in the United States Army, and at one point, he was involved in a particularly fierce battle. The American army was nearly defeated, but through Lee’s courage and leadership in the heat of the battle, the Americans won the day. Afterwards, the army was celebrating its victory, and several people went to get Lee so they could honor him for his part in the battle, but they couldn’t find him anywhere. At last, some of them found him in his quarters, writing out reports for his superiors. When they asked him why on earth he was writing reports right then, he seemed surprised and said, “Should I neglect my duties at a time like this?”

T. S. Eliot once said that “The only wisdom we can hope to acquire is the wisdom of humility: Humility is endless.” All of us standing here today are very thankful to New Saint Andrews College for helping us begin the search for the wisdom of humility, and it is our hope and prayer that the faculty, the students, and every graduate of New Saint Andrews will continue that search, no matter how many defeats - or victories - come our way. For in life, the only sure way to have the last laugh is if we are humble enough to laugh at ourselves.

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