The University of Virginia writes her highest degree on the souls of her sons. The parchment page of scholarship--the colored ribbon of a society--the jeweled emblem of a fraternity--the orange symbol of athletic prowess-all these, a year hence, will be at the best mementos of happy hours--like the withered flower a woman presses between the pages of a book for sentiment's sake.

But...

If you live a long, long time, and hold honesty of conscience above honesty of purse:

And turn aside without ostentation to aid the weak;

And treasure ideals more than raw ambition;

And track no man to his undeserved hurt;

And pursue no woman to her tears;

And love the beauty of noble music and mist-veiled mountains and blossoming valleys and great monuments--

If you live a long time and, keeping the faith in all these things hour by hour, still see that the sun gilds your path with real gold and that the moon floats in dream silver;

Then...

Remembering the purple shadows of the Lawn, the majesty of the Colonnades, and the dream of your youth, you may say in reverence and thankfulness:

"I have worn the honors of Honor, I graduated from Virginia"

--James Hay, Jr. ("The Honor Men")

Tonight was the Wesley Foundation's annual Baccalaureate service. This truly is my favorite moment in the Wesley calendar, and tonight was even more special because my parents, grandmother, aunts, and cousin made the trek to Charlottesville for the occasion.

Last year at this service, I was blessed to offer a reflection on behalf of the continuing community; tonight I spoke as a transitioning fourth year. My thoughts weren't nearly as eloquent or comprehensive as I would have liked, but I offer them here in hopes they might have meaning for you:

About this time last year, I had the distinct honor of speaking where Kris will in tonight’s service, as a member of the continuing Wesley community who had gathered to remember and celebrate all the ways we had met God through last year’s graduates. It was something of an overwhelming task, so instead of trying to articulate in my five-minute reflection all the moments of grace we had shared, I talked about an image that Alex uses frequently of the Wesley Foundation as a glimpse of heaven, a place where students and parents and alumni and church members come together into a worshiping, loving community of faith. I shared stories of kickoff picnics, cookie bakes, and informal worship services here at the Foundation. I remembered climbing pyramids and visiting castles in central Mexico, exploring international peace and justice at UN Seminars in New York, and talking with migrant workers in the lettuce and broccoli fields of Yuma, Arizona. I talked about camping out for basketball games, walking to the Corner after 2 a.m. for 2nd Dinner, and even strolling down the Lawn in the middle of Hurricane Isabel. Most importantly I realized that, through the gifts and talents and hopes of that graduating class, we had all been invited to participate in something bigger than ourselves. We had learned from their example what it meant to live together in community, asking the hard questions, unafraid of growth and change. We had also learned how to welcome new people into the community, passing on the traditions we love and making space for something new and holy to begin.

In my words on behalf of the continuing community, I was entirely positive about my sisters and brothers who were beginning this new chapter in their faith journey. I offered glowing endorsements for the gifts they had brought us and for the great things they would surely accomplish after their time here. I was completely positive, and I’m sure that Kris was so inspired by that model that she too will be incredibly kind in her reflection, especially to the person who went before her in her position as the new president of our Student Coordinating Council.

In any case, I’m charged tonight with saying something on behalf this weekend’s graduates. I didn’t want to do it. I’d much rather be where you are, hearing a much more eloquent and appropriate meditation. But when our transitions group got together to plan tonight’s service, Will was studying for a final exam, Joel was planning the amazing meal we just shared, Rachel was contacting her Dad to make sure he’d be able to participate, and April and Deborah were staring at me intently. So I volunteered, or responded to the call, or avoided punishment, depending on how you look at things.

The reason I didn’t want to speak was not because I don’t appreciate how important this service is. In fact, this baccalaureate service is my favorite thing that we do here at the Wesley Foundation. Over the past few years, this has become an important time for me to give thanks for all the ways in which the Foundation truly is a place to be and a place to become. But I didn’t want to speak here because I just didn’t think I had the words to express everything that our class wants to say to this church, to this campus ministry, to our friends and family who have loved and supported us so much. I’m not sure that the exams we’ve taken and the papers we’ve written during our time at the University have done much to prepare us for this service and all the transitions it speaks to. Only the God who brought us to this of all places and formed us, unexpectedly and mysteriously, into an accountable, intentional Christian community is able also to walk with us down the Lawn and into the world as people who are forever changed and called by our experiences in this sacred space.

So this morning I came over to the Wesley Foundation, looking for the inspiration that would enable me to say something new and meaningful to you on behalf of some of the most thoughtful and talented people I know. After a couple hours of banging my head into the desk upstairs in study camp, struggling with what to say and how to say it, wondering once again why on earth I didn’t do this earlier and actually considering skipping town to duck the talk altogether, I realized that maybe that wasn’t the best place for me to find the Wesley community. You see, I’m convinced that the Wesley Foundation is not the building where we had dinner earlier. I don’t believe that the heart of the Wesley community is captured in this sanctuary where we’re worshiping tonight or in the Foundation living room where we gather every week. These buildings help; they’re holy spaces where we have encountered the Risen Christ in our study and play.

But for me, and I think for you, the Wesley Foundation is the group of wild, fun, radical people whose faith and vision are helping to heal a broken world. The Wesley community is at work in the heart of Appalachia, where we’ve built porches and roofs for underprivileged families. It's at Camp Overlook and Occohonack on the Bay, where we've spent time in retreat and prayer. It's a pilgrimage to Taize and Iona, a vigil at the White House or at the Rotunda, a Listening Post in front of the UVA amphitheatre, an order of daily prayer in the Wesley Foundation chapel, a sunrise hike up Humpback Rocks.

The thing that makes the Wesley Foundation different from another extracurricular activity, from a lot of other campus ministries and church groups, is that when you come here people are gonna love you, whether you like it or not. Two or three or four or a dozen people will ask you if you're taking time to relax and be yourself, even when youdonj't th ink you have the time even to pause and listen. When you stop by for a Sunday evening worship service or a Thursday night dinner, it's likely that you'll stay for more conversations, for a small group bible study or a random movie night. The people here invite you into their homes and into their lives. IT's a scary sort of hospitality that demands something of us and also makes something of us.

At the Wesley Foundation we've been blessed to be a part of something remarkable and holy. Here, we've been able to find our voice as people of faith and join that voice with a chorus of others singing a new song. And that song doesn't end for any of us this weekend. It's hard to offer a reflection on behalf of those who are leaving this community because nobody's leaving. As trite and cliche as it might sound, I believe with all that I am that we are bound together in a community that time and geography cannot shake. I said earlier that the Wesley Foundation is a place to be and a place to become. That's what our sign says. That's what our experience here tells us. And an essential and good part of that being and becoming is moving on, gifted by all we've seen and felt and tasted in this place, to new journeys and challenges.

I asked last year's graduates to come back often with their pictures and their stories and their wisdom, adn to know that the Wesley Foundation was a special, grace-filled place because of the gifts they had shown us. Tonight, that's my prayer for all of us as we look ahead with hope and faith. For the graduating Wesley folks and for all that God is doing in and through this faith community, thanks be to God!