Tuesday, January 12, 2010

There is a place we seldom visit, a far, rare country where vulgarity is surprisingly absent. Swear words are not only missing, in fact, but actively discouraged, and instead there are clean consonants, with clean vowels accompanying them, and it’s a wholly different voice. Wholesome, I’d like to think. You may recall how I needed to construct a commencement prayer recently and here, on the other side of the ordeal, I thought I’d share the end product with you.

Our heavenly Father,
be with us today.

Be with us now,
in this proud moment,
and grant us clarity.

Help us to remember
those who have carried us,
to give thanks for each step and shoulder.

Be with us here, Lord,
in this crossing,
with our hands in Yours.

Meet us in this place,
where we honor our gifts
by giving in turn.

And be with us tomorrow,
on those uncertain shores,
confident in Your plan.

Where we are rich in knowledge, help us to listen.
Where we want not for comfort, teach us sacrifice.
And when we have lost our way, lead us back to our calling.

May we depart as stewards of intellect,
humbled by the promise,
mindful of the privilege,
and thankful for Your abundance.

Amen.

Here’s my postmortem. It’s about 30% shorter than the last commencement prayer, though I probably should’ve shaved off another 10%-15%. The structure could’ve been rearranged to flow better. I’m happy with “stewards of intellect” because it’s a digestible idea and, more importantly, Google shows zero results for the phrase. Above all, I’m amazed the thing made it through the vetting process unscathed. This is a secular university, after all, and I’m fully aware the text may have offended people.

Some may have been doubly offended, I imagine. You know the type. You may have even taken a class or two with one of them. Thin as a rail, fully encased in black yarn, ghoulishly light complexion: a po mo major (whatever a “major” can even mean, anyway) with a Nietzsche poster (basically a sheet of black paper) tacked directly above the bed. For these graduates, I realize I may as well have been referencing Harry Potter or Yoda–and his name also we praise, hmmmm?

Honestly this zone of clean language is getting uncomfortable, probably for all parties involved, so consider how I shouted “Fuck!” on Sunday. In a parked car. In front of a church. Because I had forgotten my Bible at home. After you do the math there, I trust you’ll find we’re home again. I should also remind you the prayer ended three paragraphs ago, by the way.