The Advice I Wish I'd Been Given at Graduation 44 Years Ago

(This is the speech/sermon I offered this week to a group of hometown, about to be high school graduates. I offer it here in a spirit of the optimism and hope that is graduation season.)

First from scripture, from the book of the prophet Jeremiah.  God’s people wondered if God was present in their lives after they’d gone through hard times. This is what God said, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”

And a favorite quote of mine from the American film director Robert Altman, about giving advice since all of you right now are in a marathon of events where lots of people are offering lots of advice. Altman said, “I'll give you the same advice I give my children: Never take advice from anybody.”

 

Thank you for letting me be a teacher and pastor to many of you and your families.  I will miss you so much. Visit when you return home from college and whatever lies ahead, please!

 

Now, as one whose done ministry for forty years, an observer of human life, a writer, a Master of Divinity degree holder, a 62-year-old with much life experience, I should have something helpful to offer all of you. Some advice: wise, deep, maybe even profound.

 

But when I think back on the advice I got when I was graduating? On that day, I was very excited and very scared. I actually dug up a picture of me from 44 years ago, May 1979, the month I was in your shoes. Yup. I once sat where you are.  I had a lot more hair then and a lot less wrinkles and my sideburns were very seventies and I’ve no idea why I am not smiling but, I was 18. Enough of that ancient Polaroid!

 

Now--of the advice proffered to me that day 44 years: by well-meaning relatives, teachers, parents, peers? It’s totally lost to me.  I’ve no clue what they said. So, instead of presuming to be the one to offer you advice, I’ll instead offer the advice I wish someone had given to me, when I was getting ready to set off to the University of Massachusetts.     

 

So, to the John Hudson of May 1979. Here’s some advice from John Hudson of May 2023.

 

Life goes much faster than you might imagine. At 18, John, you are looking at all the days and weeks and months and years ahead for you and seeing these as seemingly without end. That’s what you are supposed to do at 18. You can’t envision yourself at the ripe old age of 62. That’s as old as your grandfather but be warned. Life does seem go by in a breath. In the tick of a clock. In the passing of sunrise to sundown. One day I you’ll be at high school church camp with your best friends in the world, playing ultimate frisbee, running like the wind. Today? I can still cycle my bike up a long hill, but the legs hurt, I get winded easier, and I bike on a new hip. Time goes by fast, very fast.  

 

So, I guess what I am saying is that in the passage of all those years, I wish you, my 18-year-old self had realized the miracle that is daily life. I wish I had savored things more, the relationships in my life. Friends. Family. Wish I had told people more, that I loved them. I wish I had been able to tell my dad before he died how much I loved him, how he shaped my life for the good. He wasn’t perfect. Well, neither was I then or now.  

 

So, John, life is finite. Pay attention.

 

And don’t be so afraid and don’t hang on so tight to life. Don’t get so hung up on what people think of you. You are going to spend much way too much time caught up in trying to make others happy, trying to be the person you think everyone else wants you to be. Instead, John, trust in who you are and who God has made you to be. God has given you unique gifts and talents. Your job is to figure out what those are. What brings you joy. What you are really good at doing. How you can make the world a better place on this great blue marble in space.

 

John--you’ll figure it all out. Trust me. You will! Trust that almost all the time, things do turn out well, for the best and just as they are supposed to. All the worrying you do, the angst, it will most often be over a fictional future. Our worst fears turn out to be empty imaginings. Try and live with courage every day. When things get hard, dig deep. Pray. Learn from struggles. You’ll make it through.

 

And finally, eighteen-year-old John, be kind and humble. Be kind. Be humble. The world is always filled with enough bullies ready to hurt others, with enough blowhards who act as if they have the answer to everything, that they are always right. Our world is overflowing with people have who so much money that they do not know what to do with it all. I’ve learned that money helps, but only to a point and what really matters is the quality and depth of all the relationship in your life. Old friends. Loyal family. God. Be humble, John. You are a good young man, but you are not “all that” and that is ok. Just be yourself.

 

Dare to believe in some awesome power working for the good, in a higher power that wants the best for you, in an all-loving power giving you the drive to make this world better. Have faith. God will be there for you. God put you here for a reason.

 

Good luck and God bless 1979 John.  You are going to have a good life, not a perfect life, or a life without pain, but still, a good life.  Trust that. And remember to say thank you to God at least once a day for at least one thing you are grateful for.

 

To you, the class of 2023: God bless you all. Let everyone say, Amen!

The Reverend John F. Hudson is Senior Pastor of the Pilgrim Church, United Church of Christ, in Sherborn, Massachusetts (pilgrimsherborn.org). He blogs at sherbornpastor.blogspot.com and is a resident scholar at the Collegeville Institute at Saint John’s University in Collegeville, Minnesota. For twenty-five years he was a columnist whose essays appeared in newspapers throughout Massachusetts and Rhode Island. He has served churches in New England since 1989. For comments, please be in touch: pastorjohn@pilgrimsherborn.org.