Commencement Address: Advice for the Young (And Not-So-Young)

’Tis the season for mortar boards, oversized gowns, diplomas, valedictory speeches, graduation parties, and the all-important commencement address. This year, graduates of Duke University will have the chance to hear my childhood basketball hero, Grant Hill; those walking across the stage at Emory University will listen to the wisdom of music icon Usher; actor and comedian Steve Carrell will address the graduates at Northwestern University; while Kermit the Frog will do the honors at the University of Maryland. 

I imagine Kermit will tell folks it’s not easy being green, while the others will share other equally important (but probably all-too-soon forgotten) advice. You won’t find my name anywhere on the list of commencement speakers, but I will offer an unsolicited bit here. These points, however, aren’t just for the young and hopeful, embarking on making their dreams come true; they’re equally necessary for those of us who have been out in the world for a while. 

1. You Are Small 

I once taught with a math teacher who, in honor of Pi Day (3/14), promised extra credit to his students if they could write out Pi to the millionth decimal place. Of course, he made this deal with them the day before the extra-credit assignment was due. A few took up the challenge, but none could finish it because even if they wrote one number a second for twenty-four hours straight, it would take them eleven days to write a million digits! Now, multiply by one thousand, and you’ve got a billion. That means, to write out a billion digits would take 11,000 days (or roughly thirty years). A billion is a really, REALLY big number! 

Now consider that you are one of seven billion people on earth—and that’s just a tiny percentage of the number of humans who have ever lived on our planet. Those statistics alone should remind us that we are small. But wait! It gets better. Isaiah, writing to the nation of Judah, wanted to remind his readers of the one true God, so he set out to show them just how big the Creator is: 

Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand
or marked off the heavens with the span of his hand?
Who has gathered the dust of the earth in a measure
or weighed the mountains on a balance and the hills on the scales? . . .
Look, the nations are like a drop in a bucket;
they are considered as a speck of dust on the scales;
he lifts up the islands like fine dust. (Isaiah 40:12, 15)

While Isaiah is writing anthropomorphically—speaking of God in human terms—he’s doing so to make a point. We humans, despite having accomplished many great things, are actually very small in comparison to the Everlasting God. We do well to remember our own microscopic status, and more importantly, God’s incomprehensible immensity. In a culture that loves to worship the self, we must recognize that in comparison to the Lord of Hosts, we’re a minuscule dust particle. 

2. You Are Seen

Okay, so that last sentence was a bit of a downer. A miniscule dust particle? Really? Well, yes, but there is some good news. Despite our smallness and God’s hugeness, we each are still seen. Isaiah goes on: 

Jacob, why do you say,
and Israel, why do you assert,
“My way is hidden from the LORD,
and my claim is ignored by my God”? (Isaiah 40:27)

Israel—the covenant people of God—hurled a pretty big accusation at Yahweh: “You’ve forgotten about us!” Who among us doesn’t know that feeling? Sometimes we’re so aware of our smallness and insignificance in the world that we begin to despair and wonder how in the world such an immense God could possibly care for someone so meaningless. Isaiah’s ready with a reply:

Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the whole earth.
He never becomes faint or weary;
there is no limit to his understanding. (Isaiah 40:28)

Isaiah fires back that yes, God is immense, but so is His understanding. Boundless, shoreless, limitless, His understanding defies comprehension. Hagar, an Egyptian handmaiden, despised by her mistress, driven out into the wilderness by her master, knew about feeling insignificant. Yet after experiencing the personal tenderness of the Lord, she gave Him a special name: 

So she named the LORD who spoke to her: “You are El-roi,” for she said, “In this place, have I actually seen the one who sees me?” (Genesis 16:13)

Small one, it’s true you are nothing compared to the sovereign King of Kings, but He still sees and knows you personally. 

3. You Are Limited

Humans love to defy limits. Without this drive, we would have no airplanes, no moon landing, and probably no marathon runners. We love stories of athletes and heroes who push themselves beyond their limits and discover an indomitable spirit lying dormant inside. However, while in many cases this boundary-pushing is a good thing, we must also remember that our limits are God-given. We must sleep. We must eat. We must have water. We must rest. Isaiah reminds us of this as well: 

Youths may become faint and weary, and young men stumble and fall. (Isaiah 40:30)

I think he addresses this comment to youths specifically because the young are so prone to think that with enough caffeine and will power, they can push themselves to do just about anything. And while stimulants and determination may keep you going in the short-term, eventually the limits will win. Boundaries cannot be defied indefinitely. 

Remember, you are not God. He is infinite. You are limited. 

4. You Have Hope

Fatigue, sickness, injury—all these reminders of our human finiteness can leave us frustrated. However, Scripture steps in to encourage us that when we lift our eyes off ourselves and onto the boundless, eternal, tireless God, we have hope. We must turn to Him: 

But those who trust in the LORD will renew their strength; they will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not become weary, they will walk and not faint. (Isaiah 40:31)

Obviously, Isaiah isn’t promising us the literal gift of flight, but rather teaching through figurative language. Limitations, boundaries, and the frustrating smallness of our human, embodied lives are nothing for a limitless God. Though it flies in the face of every instinct we have, we must throw our dependence on Him in both seasons of strength and of fatigue. As the psalmist put it, we must “Lift [our] eyes to the mountains,” for our “help comes from the LORD” (Psalm 121:1–2). 

You may not be graduating this year, but we all need the reminder: You are small. You have limitations. You are not God. But . . . 

You are seen: the transcendent, limitless God of the universe cares for you, and He will give you the grace to overcome whatever challenge His sovereign goodness allows you to endure (1 Cor. 10:13).