Video: 2024 Multireligious Commencement Service

May 22, 2024

The 2024 Multireligious Commencement Service was held on May 22, 2024. The faculty speaker was Marla F. Frederick, Dean of the Faculty of Divinity, John Lord O’Brian Professor of Divinity, and Professor of Religion and Culture. This annual program was developed by members of the graduating class and features readings, prayers, music, poetry, and more, representing the religious and spiritual traditions of the class of 2024.

SPEAKER 1: Harvard Divinity School. Multireligious Commencement Service for the Class of 2024. May 22, 2024.

["THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE" PLAYING]

ALL: (SINGING) I'm gonna let it shine

[INAUDIBLE]

I'm gonna let it shine

[INAUDIBLE]

I'm gonna let it shine

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

AUDIENCE: We love you guys.

AUDIENCE: We love you.

AHMAAD EDMUND: Let's give it up for The Jam Collective.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

Welcome all to the Harvard Divinity School Multireligious Commencement Service 2024.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

I am Ahmaad Edmund, a graduating Master of Divinity student.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

LAUREN TASSONE: And my name is Lauren Tassone, a graduating Master of Theological Studies student.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

We are thrilled to be with you here in this moment. As we gather today, we remember and name that Harvard University is located on the traditional and ancestral land of the Massachusett, the original inhabitants of what is now known as Boston and Cambridge. We pay respect to the people of the Massachusett tribe, past and present, and honor the land itself, which remains sacred to the Massachusett people.

AHMAAD EDMUND: Before we begin, we want to acknowledge the ongoing pain and violence occurring in the wider world and the divisions in our society and on university campuses, including Harvard. We hold this anguish deeply in our hearts as we gather for these graduation ceremonies and as we leave this community to pursue the next chapter of our lives.

LAUREN TASSONE: We gather this afternoon to honor the transition that commencement marks and to rejoice in one another's accomplishments in a world that demonstrably needs every person in this class to pursue their respective vocations with revolutionary imagination and love.

AHMAAD EDMUND: At Harvard Divinity School, we strive to acknowledge the unique religious diversity of our campus and aim to support and advance the genuine religious pluralism of the school by engaging and honoring the many religious perspectives, commitments, and experiences among us. Today, we have the chance to celebrate one another in each of our various contexts-- in sacred text, in prayer, poetry, in song, dance, and in art. While we seek to uplift all the traditions present among us, we also know that we cannot feature every single perspective. Together, we have done our very best to include as many as possible.

LAUREN TASSONE: As we journey into this service, may we find ourselves in a space of truth and openness. May we share our traditions in a spirit of hospitality with those who may not understand what we do or why, having the courage to be true to our traditions with an open heart. May we aspire to postures of welcome and vulnerability with ourselves and one another.

We would like to thank Dean Frederick, Chris Hossfeld, Kerry Maloney, our fellow students on the Multireligious Commencement Service Planning Committee, and all HDS faculty and staff who have supported today's events.

AHMAAD EDMUND: And on behalf of the 2024 graduating class--

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

--here at Harvard Divinity School, we welcome you here today. And we thank you for traveling near and far to participate with us in this beautiful and sacred moment.

BOTH: Thank you.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

GIANLUCA AVANZATO: Good afternoon.

AUDIENCE: Good afternoon.

GIANLUCA AVANZATO: This is adapted from In the Name by Pádraig Ó Tuama.

In the name of goodness, of love, and of broken community. In the name of meaning, of feeling, and I hope you don't hurt me. In the name of darkness and light and ungraspable twilight. In the name of mealtimes and sharing and caring by firelight. In the name of action, of peace and human redemption. In the name of eating, of drinking and table confession.

In the name of sadness, regret and holy obsession. In the name of anger, the spirit of aggression. In the name of forgive and forget and I hope I get over this. In the name of fathers and mothers and unholy spirits. In the name of beauty and broken and beaten up daily. In the name of seeing our creeds and believing in maybe.

We gather here, a roomful of strangers, and speak of our hopeland and talk of our danger. To make sense of our thinking. To authenticate lives. To humanize feelings and stop telling lies. In the name of philosophy, of theology, and who gives a damn.

In the name of employment and study and finding new family. In the name of our passions, our lovings and indecent obsessions. In the name of prayer, of worship, and demon possession. In the name of solitude, of quiet, and holy reflection. In the name of the lost, the lonely, and the without direction.

In the name of the early and the late and the wholly ineffectual. In the name of the straight and the queer, transgender and beloved bisexual. In the name of touch up and break up and break down and weeping. In the name of therapy and Prozac and full-hearted breathing.

[LAUGHTER]

In the name of sadness and madness and years since I've smiled. In the name of the unknown, the alien and the holy in exile. In the name of the named and the unnamed and the names of the nameless. In the names of the prayers that repeat, "I wish that I could change this." In the name of goodness and kindness and intentionality. In the name of harbor and shelter and family. Thank you.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

["CHANGE IS COMING" PLAYING]

FRANCESCA RUBINSON & EVE WOLDEMIKAEL: (SINGING) Change is coming

What do we need to imagine?

Change is coming

What do we need to imagine?

To be prepared, you know I'm scared

To be prepared, yes, I am scared

But I know from brokenness there's whole

I know from brokenness there's whole

Change is coming

What do we need to imagine?

Change is coming

What do we need to imagine?

Change is coming

What do we need to imagine?

Change is coming

What do we need to imagine?

To be prepared, you know I'm scared

To be prepared, yes, I am scared

But I know from brokenness there's whole

I know from brokenness there's whole

To be prepared, yes, I am scared

To be prepared, you know I'm scared

But I know from brokenness there's whole

Oh, oh, oh, oh

From brokenness there's whole

Change is coming

What do we need to imagine?

Change is coming

What do we need to imagine?

Change is coming

What do we need to imagine?

Change is coming

What do we need to imagine?

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

CORINNA ROBINSON: The outpouring of the Holy Spirit enlightens the thoughts of artists, poets, and scientists. Their great minds receive from You prophetic insights into Your laws and reveal to us the depth of Your creative wisdom. Unwittingly, our works speak of You, how great You are and all You have created, how great You are in humanity. Glory to You, showing Your unfathomable might in the laws of the universe. Glory to You, for all nature is permeated by Your laws.

Glory to You for what You have revealed to us in Your goodness. Glory to You for all that remains hidden from us in Your wisdom. Glory to You for the inventiveness of the human mind. Glory to You for the invigorating effort of work. Glory to You for the tongues of fire which bring inspiration. Glory to You, O, God, from age to age.

RAJEEV PERSAUD: [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]

God is most gentle at heart, most gracious to the downtrodden. He is causelessly compassionate. Even the wretched vulture who scavenged the flesh of others was, by his grace, liberated in the way that the greatest of Saints desire.

[NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]

Millions of life forms reside in the world, roaming the land, water and the air. Knowing Sitaram, God, is imbued in all the universe, I clasp my hands, bowing to you all.

[NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]

Caste, creed, religion, status, wealth, power, connections, accomplishments and knowledge-- what are these? The man claiming these but without loving devotion is a rain cloud with no rain.

[NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]

There is no religion like the pursuit of the welfare of others, my brother. And there is no lower work than causing pain to others. In whose heart resides the welfare of others, to them, God says, nothing in this world is unattainable.

[NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]

In every land, at every moment, in all directions, tell me where there is a place the Lord is not. God pervades all things. He abides equally within all, and only through love is he revealed. God is most gentle at heart, most gracious to the downtrodden. He is causelessly compassionate.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

[WHISPERING]

ALL: (SINGING) Ye fleeting charms of Earth

Farewell, your springs of joy are dry

My soul now seeks another home

A brighter world on high

I'm a long time traveling here below

I'm a long time traveling away from home

I'm a long time traveling here below

To lay this body down

Farewell kind friends whose tender care

Has long engaged my love

Your fond embrace I now exchange

For better friends above

I'm a long time traveling here below

I'm a long time traveling away from home

I'm a long time traveling here below

To lay this body down

I'm a long time traveling here below

I'm a long time traveling away from home

I'm a long time traveling here below

To lay this body down

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

SUZIE GRECO: Has the day of miracles ceased? Or have angels ceased to appear unto the children of men? Or has He withheld the power of the Holy Ghost from them? Behold, I say unto you, nay. For it is by faith that miracles are wrought. And it is by faith that angels appear and minister unto men. Wherefore, if these things have ceased, woe be unto the children of men.

For it is because of unbelief and all is in vain. Behold, I say unto you, ye cannot have faith and hope save ye be meek and lowly of heart. For none is acceptable unto God, save he is meek and lowly of heart and confesses by the power of the Holy Ghost that Jesus is the Christ. And he must have charity. For if he has not charity, he is nothing.

Wherefore he must needs have charity and charity suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, and is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth, all things, and endureth all things. Charity is the pure love of Christ. And it endureth forever.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

MAURICIO BRUCE: "Chase a deer and end up everywhere," says Rumi, in Unfold Your Own Myth. So I have an invitation for all of us. We sit in a moment of possibilities. They unfold and they unfurl in front of us like a road with no destination. Where will they lead you?

Where do you want them to lead you? If we chase a deer, Rumi says, we can go everywhere. So let's not decide. Let's sit and wonder, feel the way that our stomach turns at the vacuum. We're standing on the edge of the cliff and the void is opening up before us. And it's a wonderful place to be.

So let's sit in curiosity. Where do the possibilities sit in your body? Can you find them? Take a breath with me. And look in your body at that place that is just so excited at the place we're sitting in that sees everything in front. And I'm going to invite you to take a finger or two and press into that place and to anchor that feeling, to anchor that curiosity.

Where's this path going to lead? Don't decide. Follow it and find out. Where is it inviting you? Follow that deer and go everywhere. That path, that anchor, it is always available to us. And now you have a way to find it, to remember it in your body.

So as Rumi says at the end of that poem, then comes a moment of feeling the wings you've grown lifting. May your path, may our path always be filled with possibilities. Congratulations.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

AMIN QURESHI: [NON-ENGLISH SINGING]

You who believe seek help through steadfastness in prayer, for God is with the steadfast. Do not say that those who are killed in God's cause are dead. They are alive, though you do not perceive it. We shall certainly test you with fear and hunger and loss of property, lives, and crops.

But Prophet get good news to those who are steadfast. Those who say when afflicted with the calamity, "We belong to God and to him, we shall return," these will be given blessings and mercy from their Lord. And it is they who are rightly guided. As salamu alaykum.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

OLIVIA HASTIE: (SINGING) For every time I make the choice

To love the sound of my own voice

Another's wants, another's needs

I tremble underneath my feet

LAUREN TASSONE: (SINGING) For every time I boldly say

That I'm the one who knows the way

And I come down with a heavy hand

And withhold my understanding

BOTH: (SINGING) I know now more than ever

I know now more than ever

I know now that

I'm still so in need

Of grace and mercy

I'm still so in need

Of grace and mercy

For every time that I hold up

My life against another one

And I envy what I do not have

And curse what I don't understand

Oh, on this darkness, shine a light

Remind me once again

That I know now more than ever

I know now more than ever

I know now

That I'm still so in need

Of grace and mercy

I'm still so in need

Of grace and mercy

I'd like to think that I'm older now

And surely I must have grown out of this

I'd like to reach some higher ground

But what a sad life to live without

Grace and mercy

I'm still so in need

Of grace and mercy

I'm still so in need

Of grace and mercy

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

CASSANDRA MONTENEGRO: Bring your broken hallelujah here. Bring the large one that is beyond repair. Bring the small one that's too soft to share. Bring your broken hallelujah here. I know that people have told you that before you can give, you got to get yourself together. They overstated the value of perfection by a lot. Or they forgot that you are the gift.

We all bring some broken things, songs and dreams, and long lost hopes. But here, together, we reach within. As a community, we begin again. And from the pieces, we will build something new. There is work that only you can do. We wait for you.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

KENNETH MOALES III: Today, I make my sacrament of thanksgiving. I begin with the simple things of my days-- fresh air to breathe, cool water to drink, the taste of food, the protection of homes and clothes, the comforts of homes. For these, I make an act of thanksgiving this day.

I bring to mind all the warmth of humankind that I have known. From my mother's arms, to the strength of my father, the playmates of my childhood, the wonderful stories brought to me from the lives of many who have walked, of days gone by when fairies and giants and all kinds of magic held sway.

The tears I have shed, the tears I have seen, the excitement of laughter and the twinkling in the eye with its reminder that life is good. For all these, I make an act of thanksgiving this day.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

[UPBEAT INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC]

[NON-ENGLISH SINGING]

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

SARA JIN LI: This world will break your heart. And even entering it is a brutal kind of homecoming. Look around and you'll find the flooring is cracked, mold is on the walls, the furniture is destroyed, garage door's broken, and some previous owners gone and left the faucet on so all the rooms are flooded. And you might say to yourself, this isn't what I asked for.

But you know what must be done because this is your home. Someone must live here. When we inherit a bad house, as we all have, we must make the choice to step through the doors nonetheless, if only to see what's left under the rubble. And so you look around and you ask not why, but what? What would make this room inhabitable? What table will you build so that your neighbors will sit together and share a meal, knee to knee?

What wood would you use and how many will it seat? What will you hang on the walls so when visitors come, they pause and take a minute out of their very busy, very important days to stare and wonder? What will you grow in the garden for the birds and the squirrels? Which way will the bedroom window face so when you wake up, you will see the sun, which continues to rise, despite all the nights that you thought it wouldn't?

This year has been an exercise in moral imagination. I know we are prone to thinking all is lost and humanity is doomed. Because when I first came to HDS, I thought love was a center I needed to reach. What I found instead is that love is actually the circumference of our existence and it is up to us to sustain it. Love asks that we surrender our pride, our fears, and our despair.

The world has come back from an apocalypse again and again because someone loved it enough to say, it doesn't have to be this way. Let me show you how. I see what you see. This house is a mess, it's true. But we can start by just sweeping up the glass. Everything else will come after. I'll even bring the broom.

[APPLAUSE]

CARLA AREVALO CARBAJAL: We have had a long year, guys. We did a lot of good work. And I wanted to share this prayer as a sign to let go and rest and enjoy the work we have done. You made it. We've made it. I'll be doing my reading in Spanish, but you can follow along in your bulletins in English.

[SPEAKING SPANISH]

Amen.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

AUDS HOPE JENKINS: I'm going to talk for a second, but thank you for standing. [LAUGHS] And everybody's going to stand in a minute. So hello, everyone. In the program, it says that this chant is for those who belong to many traditions. And while that's certainly true, as I'm deeply grounded in both my Buddhist practice and my Christian heritage and my songs emerge from that confluence, at the same time, perhaps it's more accurate to say that this chant and our spiritual practices don't always have to have a tradition and that it is for those who know that the divine is a song and for those that find healing in the collective voice.

So this afternoon, we're going to sing together. And I wrote this chant as an ancestral blessing in honor of all of our ancestors, both human and non-human, living and dead, known and unknown, who loved us into being and who walk with us still. So I want to invite you to rise in body or spirit and open up your little this thing.

And we are going to read the lyrics of this chant out loud together first. Because it feels safer to speak than sing. So you can warm up by speaking. OK, so let's read it together.

ALL: Bless all those who loved me into being, those I know and those I don't. Flow within me. Break me open. Make me whole.

AHMAAD EDMUND: Beautiful. So now I'm going to sing it once through so you know what it sounds like. And then I'll teach it to you call and response, line by line. And then after that, we'll sing it through a few times together. And just an invitation to really sink into what you're singing, what you're chanting.

No one's listening to you. Or maybe they are, but whatever. Ignore that. And this moment is really for you and your ancestors and your elders. So I'll sing it through once, and then line by line, and then we'll sing it together. Thank you.

(SINGING) Bless all those who loved me into being

Those I know and those I don't

Flow within me, break me open, make me whole

All right. So now we'll sing it line by line, call and response. So I'll sing, and then you.

(SINGING) Bless all those who loved me into being

ALL: (SINGING) Bless all those who loved me into being

AUDS HOPE JENKINS: Those I know and those I don't

ALL: Those I know and those I don't

AUDS HOPE JENKINS: Flow within me, break me open, make me whole.

ALL: Flow within me, break me open, make me whole.

AUDS HOPE JENKINS: Beautiful. So now we're going to start singing it together. And we'll probably sing it through seven or eight times. That sounds like a lot, but it's not a lot. So again, I invite you to really take this moment for you and your ancestors.

ALL: (SINGING) Bless those who loved me into being

Those I know and those I don't

Flow within me, break me open, make me whole

Bless all those who loved me into being

Those I know and those I don't

Flow within me, break me open, make me whole

Bless all those who loved me into being

Those I know and those I don't

Flow within me, break me open, make me whole

Bless all those who loved me into being

Those I know and those I don't

Flow within me, break me open, make me whole

Bless all those who loved me into being

Those I know and those I don't

Flow within me, break me open, make me whole

Bless all those who loved me into being

Those I know and those I don't

Flow within me, break me open, make me whole

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

[INDISTINCT CHATTER]

MARLA FREDERICK: Thank you so much, Auds, for the ancestral blessing. It is so apropos to what I want to share today. Let me just say, as a South Carolinian, I want to affirm something for you, especially for my friends and colleagues in robes--

[LAUGHTER]

It is hot. Today, it is hot.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

But nevertheless, what a beautiful and remarkable day it is.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

So welcome to Harvard Divinity School, graduates.

[CHEERS]

Distinguished guests, faculty, staff, alumni, and friends, welcome to the time-honored multireligious commencement service, as we celebrate the class of 2024. Thank you to everyone who helped to make this moment of reflection possible. The service is a testament to the beauty and the power of living out the value of respecting pluralism, as we hear from community members, from the Christian, Hindu, Mormon, Islamic, Unitarian, Universalist, Assamese, Jewish, and Buddhist traditions, as well as those who feel called to many traditions or to none at all.

I also want to acknowledge that we are gathered here today, steeped in the excitement of reaching a meaningful milestone, one that deserves celebration and joy, while also deeply aware of conflict and division within higher education and across the globe. I stepped into the role of Dean during a year of overlapping crises, the lingering effects of a global pandemic, the existential threat of climate change, the persistent reality of inequality in both resources and rights, and the grief that visions for world peace seem as distant as they ever have, as wars erupt around the world and acts of violence continue to afflict our nation.

I know this has been another unprecedented year in a slew of unprecedented years and that it feels like words can only fall short when trying to reckon with where we are in this particular moment. That said, I still feel called as an educator and as an ethnographer, in particular, to offer a lesson by way of storytelling. Stories, after all, often offer the promise that what may feel like irrevocable fractures can be transformed into even stronger foundations built anew.

In preparing this address, I was reminded of a passage by James Baldwin in his 1964 collaboration with Richard Avedon, his high school classmate and longtime friend, entitled Nothing Personal. The two work with images and text in order to examine the formation of identity and the bonds that both underlie and undermine human connection. The collection has been described as both a eulogy and a declaration of will.

Baldwin's passage reads, "The longer I live, the more deeply I learn that love-- whether we call it friendship or family or romance-- is the work of mirroring and magnifying each other's light. Gentle work. Steadfast work. Life-saving work in those moments when life and shame and sorrow occlude our own light from our view, but there is still a clear-eyed, loving person to beam it back. In our best moments, we are that person for another."

I am here to tell you that in the midst of despair, a declaration of will to mirror and to magnify each other's light is the gentle, steadfast, and life-saving work needed now more than ever. And I speak quite honestly from experience. I am here today because my life, in a circuitous way, has been mirrored back to me, thanks to my ancestors, my parents, grandparents, great grandparents, who time and time again, faced difficulties and challenges that served to degrade their humanity. And yet their trials as well as their triumphs, mirror to me both persistence and possibility, both theirs and my own.

They mirror back the hope born of education and beloved community, the kind of hope and promise that our faith traditions teach, the type of hope and promise that you must nurture and protect for future generations. In one of my favorite works by anthropologist Zora Neale Hurston entitled Barracoon, she recounts her interview with a formerly enslaved person named Kossola. He's understood to be the last known living, enslaved person in the United States.

She interviews him in the early 1900s after he was brought over through an illegal importation of Africans that took place in the late 1860s. As a part of her ethnographic research, she goes South to interview him so that she can get to know him and his story. But Kossola says to her, when she asks him about himself, she writes, "He gave me a look full of scornful pity and asked, 'Where is the house where the mouse is the leader? I can't tell you about the son before I tell you about the father. I can't tell you about the man who is the father until I tell you about the man who is the father of him.'"

In other words, if you want to know me, you really have to know my parents, my fore-parents. And I believe this is true for all of us. To know any of us is to know our ancestors. To know me is to know my parents. I am a mirrored reflection of them and their values. And their lives mirror back to me hope and possibility.

My father grew up sharecropping in the South Carolina heat, hard labor made even harder in the Jim Crow South. But like countless African-Americans of his generation, he did not let the meanness of the world harden him. Even when his home was literally destroyed by the government, completely removed from its foundations so that they could build Savannah River plant, he kept his sights on a better future.

As he tells the story, he and his sister walked home from school and he looked at his sister at a point when they should have been able to see their house. And he says to his sister, Mary, I don't see the house. She says, the house has to be there. He says, no, I don't see the house. They ran towards the place where their home was supposed to be, but when they got there, all they saw were their belongings tossed on the side of the road.

Aided by a friend, their family moved into a burnt-out shack where they would reside until they could find a new home. My father only shared this story with me when I was working on a documentary to celebrate his 75th birthday. Holding back tears, he said the memory was too painful to share before, but he felt like his children and his grandchildren needed to know that things haven't always been like this.

Like my mother, whose documentary I will be working on soon, my father was always smart and ambitious. He wanted to go to college, but he didn't have the money. Blessedly, he did have a strong church community that helped him make the dream of a college education come true. It was a Baptist minister who introduced my father to Dr. O.R. Reuben, then President of Morris College, a small, historically Black college in my hometown of Sumter, South Carolina.

Dr. Reuben allowed my father to attend Morris for his four-year degree and allowed him to pay for it by serving as his driver. After my dad graduated Morris, Dr. Reuben sent him off to Atlanta University to earn a master's degree in business administration. Dr. Reuben saw potential in my dad and he wanted him to come back as the business manager for the college after completing his graduate degree.

I tell you this story because my parents' story sits heavy on my heart. From them, I have learned trial, travail, and triumph. Some of you may already know that I lost both of my parents this school year, a loss that has caused waves of grief that nearly consumed me as I was beginning this new chapter of my life as Dean. On August 24, Harvard announced that I would be the next Dean of Harvard Divinity School, the first woman in its 207-year history and only--

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

--and only the second African-American. It is an honor that I hold dearly.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

After the announcement went out on August 24, my dad passed six days later. Then, in January, after a welcome reception here that was just full of joy and celebration that my mother was able to attend and really enjoy, she went home that evening to my sister's house and went to sleep and simply did not wake up the next morning. And so only months after we buried my father, our mother went to rest beside him.

I am sharing this part of my story with you today, not for sympathy, but rather to show you that in the face of loss, the love of those who came before you and the love of friends you meet along the way can truly sustain you. They can mirror back to you for you hope and possibility in times of great struggle and strife. They can remind you of who you are.

I love this story about my father earning a college degree because it talks about the importance of community and the ability of one person to change the trajectory of an entire life, which can change the trajectory of entire generations. It was at Atlanta University where my father serendipitously met my mother. Together, they loved and supported each other through 57 years of marriage, earning degrees, starting a family, building careers, giving back consistently to their beloved community, and sending their children out into the world to pursue their own versions of a purpose-filled life.

I have been cultivated by parents who loved me with a love that surpasses all understanding. Without them, I truly would not be here today. The memory of them reminds me of who I am. It constantly mirrors back to me. Let your people, those related by blood and those chosen in spirit, guide you as you begin each new chapter of your life.

And speaking of new chapters, there is much work to do. We may not always agree on the details of what needs to be done or how, but I can assure you, there is a social restlessness that on our best days, I see as a craving to reach our collective potential. Especially when it feels daunting, I want to remind you that it takes true strength to believe in a vision for a better world and to work toward that vision, despite the temptations to give in to divisiveness and despair.

It takes an open mind and an open heart to connect with other human beings who are also learning how to live, learning how to contend with all the beauty and the pain and the grief and the glory that make up our multifaceted lives. And it takes intestinal fortitude to partake in the iterative process that is education, formal or otherwise. All of this necessitates care of relationships. Because education does not happen in isolation.

We need relationships to contextualize learning, and we need learning to invite us into relationship. I implore you to honor your own amazing array of personal connections, those forged through your years at HDS, of inter-religious dialogue and learning, those connections that have come from deep understanding as well as deep disagreement. From ancestors, to neighbors, to future generations that you will inspire with your words and deeds, cherish your beloved community.

Stay connected to one another through shared humanity, holding fast to the promise of protecting and celebrating each other's dignity. And as Baldwin says, "being our best selves as we mirror and magnify each other's light." As higher education faces division, conflict, and public scrutiny, I want to underscore the deep importance of the study of religion and the many areas of study that intersect with religion. I believe in the vision and mission of Harvard Divinity School.

That mission is this to provide an intellectual home where scholars and professionals from around the globe research and teach the varieties of religion in service of just world at peace across religious and cultural divides. At the heart of our mission is researching and teaching. And now it is time for you to leave here and with all the knowledge you have gained, to put that knowledge in service of a just world at peace.

I fully recognize the work it takes to build a multi-religious, anti-racist, anti-oppressive school and world. This work is ongoing and iterative. This work requires a wholehearted commitment to ethical leadership. And this work demands moral imagination. As you become alumni of HDS, I ask that you take the school's vision, its mission, and the responsibilities of upholding such aspirations with you wherever your journey may lead.

Harvard Divinity School Class of 2024, we need you. We need religious leaders to help us navigate sorrow and celebrate life's greatest joys. We need medical professionals dedicated to human dignity and equality. We need good lawyers with the flame of justice burning in their souls. We need legislators and senators devoted to the cause of the least of these, and not simply the wealthiest of these.

We need educators to share knowledge, artists to create beauty, and writers to tell our stories. We need journalists to keep us informed, ethical business and nonprofit leaders to show us a better way, scientists to protect our health and that of our planet, monastics and ministers to show us how to attend to our spiritual lives. We need parents who are dedicated to doing the hard, sacrificial work of raising extraordinary kids, family members and neighbors who can turn a fractured past into a future built anew.

I would like to leave you today with the words of another one of my heroes, one from my hometown of Sumter, Mary McLeod Bethune. She was the daughter of formerly enslaved parents and became one of the most important educators and leaders for civil and women's rights of the 20th century. In her timeless words, she said this.

"Believe in yourself. Learn and never stop wanting to build a better world." If nothing else, let that be the lesson that I leave you with today. I hope you enjoy your time with family and friends this week. And I wish you nothing but the best as you embark on your next chapter. Congratulations, Class of 2024. God bless.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

LEX BERMAN: [SPEAKING HEBREW]

MIRIAM ISRAEL: [SPEAKING HEBREW]

AUDIENCE: Amen.

SHIR LOVETT-GRAFF: May it be your will, Divine [? Shekhinah, ?] the one who provided water to our ancestors, that you should lead us in peace, direct our steps in just peace, guide us in peace, support us in peace, and enable us to reach our destination, toward a place of justice, presence, freedom, and joy.

Protect us from those who intend to silence and scare us, from our doubts and insecurities, from the unhealed trauma and grief carried by our communities. Help us remember that our safety is mutually dependent and interconnected. As we travel, as we find our many pathways, may we be accompanied by you in many forms in friendship, mentorship, shared work for liberation.

LEX BERMAN: You accompany us in poetry, in song, in big meals shared between friends and strangers. You are the holy space that holds contradictions within ourselves and within our communities. In Palestine, in Turtle Island, and on the Pautuckett land that we stand upon today, we know you are with us in understanding these places, their histories, their peoples and our places within them. As we travel, we draw on our elders and our ancestors to guide us. In the words of Aurora Levens Morales, "There are no leaders who dare to say every life is precious, so it will have to be us."

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

MIRIAM ISRAEL: Since it is us, may you confer your blessing upon the work of our hands. May we be seen with loving kindness and compassion in your eyes and in the eyes of all who see us. Give us steadfastness and strength. Listen to the voice of our prayer, for you hear the prayers of all. Blessed is the source of life who hears prayers. It will have to be us. May you be with us on the journey.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

TENZIN GYURMEY: [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]

May I be protector for those without one, a guide for all travelers on the way. May I be a bridge, a boat, and a ship for all those who wish to cross the river.

[NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]

May I be an island for those who seek one and a lamp for those who seek light. May I be a bed for those who wish to rest and a friend for those who want a companion.

[NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]

May all who are sick and ill quickly be freed from their illness and may every disease in the world never occur again.

[NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]

May the naked one find clothing, the hungry find food. May the thirsty find water and delicious drinks.

[NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]

May the poor find wealth, those weak with sorrow find joy. May the fallen find new hope, constant happiness, and prosperity.

[NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]

For as long as space endures and for as long as living beings remain, until then, may I too abide to dispel the misery of the world. Thank you.

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

["THIS JOY I HAVE" PLAYING]

(SINGING) Oh, this joy

This joy that I have

The world didn't give it

The world didn't give it to me

This joy I have

This joy that I have

The world didn't give it

The world didn't give it to me

This joy I have

This joy that I have

Oh, no, the world didn't give it to me

I know that the world didn't give it

And the world can't take it away

Oh, this strength I have

This strength that I have

The world didn't give it

The world didn't give it to me

Oh, this strength that I have

The world didn't give it

The world didn't give it to me

This strength I have

This strength that I have

The world didn't give it

The world didn't give to me

Oh, I'm glad the world

The world didn't give it

So it can't take it away

Well, this pride I have

This pride that I have

This pride I have

The world didn't give it to me

Oh, this pride I have

This pride that I have

Oh, no, the world didn't give it

The world didn't give it to me

This pride I have

This pride that I have

The world didn't give it

The world didn't give it to me

Oh, no, no, the world didn't give it to me

This world can't take it away

This peace I have

This peace that I have

Peace like a river

The world didn't give it to me

This peace I have

This peace that I have

Deep within my soul

The world didn't give it to me

This peace I have

This peace that I have

Oh, I know the world didn't give it to me

I'm so glad about it that the world didn't give it

And the world can't take it away

Oh, this love I have

The world didn't give it to me

This love I have

The world didn't give it

The world didn't give it to me

This love I have

Oh, no, no, no, no, the world

This world didn't give it to me

And it can't take it away

The world didn't give it to me

And the world can't take it away

This world didn't give it

The world didn't give it

No, the world can't take it away

This love I have, this world didn't

The world didn't give it

The world can't take it away

[CHEERS, APPLAUSE]

[UPBEAT ROCK MUSIC]

SPEAKER 1: Sponsor-- Office of the Chaplain and Religious and Spiritual Life.