This month, thousands of young men and women will graduate from colleges and universities all over North America. Their experiences have surely included much of the usual undergraduate experience. But they have also navigated through a historic global pandemic that disrupted every sector of society, including their own education. 

College graduations are, in my opinion, one of the most hope-filled and thrilling experiences around. That may sound odd to you, and perhaps it is. To be a bit more specific, I find those commencement ceremonies at Christian colleges and universities to be especially exhilarating. That’s because those graduates do not merely represent a massive reservoir of potential. In the context of those Christian institutions, their graduation represents something of a commissioning. As disciples of Jesus Christ, those graduates are marking the end of one season and the beginning of another, all of it under the shadow of the cross. 

So if you’re one of those graduates--or perhaps you care a great deal about them--let me propose some words of encouragement and counsel, meant to offer some wisdom for the path ahead.

The Threat of Infestation

Infestation is one of the scariest words in the English language. To date, I have never heard a positive use of the term. No one ever calls and says, “Guess what we have on our hands? An ice cream infestation.” 

Instead, infestations seem to bring to mind thousands of small creatures that, if you could see them up close with a magnifying lens, look like some sort of monster right out of Lord of the Rings. 

In recent years, the United States has experienced something of an infestation and, chances are, you have experienced it. I am referring to the hordes of insects known as “stink bugs,” or to be more precise, the brown marmorated stink bug. The things are actually native to East Asia where they have lived for centuries and were held in check by natural predators. But somehow in the late 1990s, they showed up in Allentown, Pennsylvania, most likely attached to a shipping pallet from China. They have now spread to 43 of the 48 continental states. And it appears they are here to stay since they seem to be virtually impossible to eradicate.

There’s the smell, of course. But there’s also their appetites. The brown marmorated stink bug is, what entomologists call, “highly polyphagous” - it will eat virtually any tree, but it will also eat whatever might be in your fridge. Never mind the impact it can have on agriculture at large, decimating whole crops. It consumes and destroys whatever it finds to feed on.

Believe it or not, my main concern is not entomology. Rather, I am burdened by another infestation. I see a generation of Christians around me devastated by compromises with sin and personal integrity. I see an American church plagued by a weakened witness before a watching world. We are all painfully aware of recurring headlines of prominent leaders within Christian circles who, by their own failing, have surrendered their own integrity.

So for all the joy of an occasion like graduation, for all the honors rightly due to you, for all the happiness and pride your friends, family, and professors feel for you, there is something of a burden I share for you, and for us. 

What I am about to tell you will likely seem like a downer of a message, but here’s the truth: Some of you will not make it. There will come a point, whether months or years from now, when you will see a trail of broken promises, broken hearts, and broken homes. To be even more pointed, there are some who began with you in this journey at freshman orientation, but will not be seated with you now at graduation because of the reality and trauma inflicted by sin.

Like an infestation, the world, the flesh, and the devil conspire against you to overtake you. So I want to give you a word of warning, but also exhortation: By the time the infestation shows up, it’s already too late. 

A good defense is not enough. You need an offense. To put it another way, you cannot merely hope that your home will be immune to the plague of stink bugs; you have to take active measures to destroy them before they ever get close to the walls of your home. 

The Bible is full of wisdom for us here. Of course, Scripture includes many instructions and commands on how to take defensive measures. After all, we are told by Jesus to gouge out eyes and cut off hands lest we be carried to destruction by them and Paul calls us to mortify--to put to death--that which is earthly in us (Colossians 3:5).

But those seem to be the minority when compared with the general emphasis of the Scriptures: If you want to wage war against sin, you must fuel the flames of your love for God. In other words, the best defense is a strong offense.

The Bible is full of instruction on how that is to be done. But let me draw your attention to one particular passage:

Finally brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable—if there is any moral excellence and if there is anything praiseworthy—dwell on these things. Do what you have learned and received, and heard from me, and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you (Philippians 4:8-9).

“These things.” After extolling the Philippian Christians to devote themselves to prayer as the antidote to anxiety and assuring them of the protective power of the peace of God (4:6-7), the Apostle here exhorts them to set their hearts and minds on particular things: “whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable.” And then, as if to summarize all these, any moral excellence, anything praiseworthy.

We inhabit a world infatuated with falsehood, dishonor, vulgarity, ugliness, and wickedness. Make no mistake about it, Paul is not here appealing to some sort of universal moral virtue that Christians share with the world. We certainly rejoice in God’s common grace and in transcendent virtues long celebrated. But any inward appetite you have for “these things” is only because the Spirit of God has given you new life, transformed your heart, and given you eyes to see that Jesus alone is the standard of that which is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, and commendable. 

We live in an age of half-truths, alternative facts, and outright lies. And I fear that we, as the people of God, risk growing calloused souls and consciences, desensitized to the scandal of deceit and the way it runs contrary to the very nature and goodness of a God who always speaks truth, who is trustworthy, and who tells us that truth is the path to freedom.

Resolve now to do nothing which would bring dishonor to the name of Christ and to his gospel. I recently heard a retired pastor say his prayer continues to be, “Lord, let me die tonight if it would keep me from doing something tomorrow that would bring scandal to your church or my family.” Maybe that strikes you as hyperbolic. But in our day and age, we would be foolish to swat it away casually as exaggerated sentiment. Can you say that? Are Christ and his kingdom that precious to us?

We live in a filthy age, an age that celebrates the vulgar and recoils at the truly beautiful. And if we are honest with ourselves, we are not that different than the prophet Isaiah; we are men and women of “unclean lips and [we] live among a people of unclean lips” (Isaiah 6:5). Of course, it’s not just our lips, it’s our minds. It’s our whole being.

Don’t be fooled. Holiness and purity will always be scoffed at, it will never be “cool”  or politically expedient. It will always be costly. But resolve now to pursue purity in your speech, in your thoughts, and in your conduct.

Our Hope for Students

Your professors recognize that a good deal of what they have tried to impart to you has already evaporated from the corners of your memory. And as the weeks, months, and years move forward, you will be amazed at how much you forget from readings and lectures.

Christians with a teaching vocation recognize this to be reality, one which we ourselves experienced long ago as students and continue to experience as finite human beings. But be assured that our great prayer for our students is that your heart and mind would “dwell on these things.” With the Apostle, we dare say: “Do what you have learned and received, and heard from me, and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.”

Notice the connection between thinking in verse 8, and doing in verse 9. If your heart and mind dwell on these things, the expectation is that it will show up in your action, in your behavior. In other words, your conduct will be directed by those things upon which you set your heart and mind. 

To teach within a Christian college or university brings with it moments of irrepressible joy. On graduation day, faculty sit full of joy and pride in the accomplishments of our students. But our great hope for them is far grander than anything the world can imagine. We pray for fruitful ministries, meaningful careers, happy homes, and all of the Lord’s blessings. But these all pale next to our chief ambition. Should Christ tarry, and we--your long-forgotten professors-- all be gathered to glory, the legacy we hope to leave is one of faithfulness to Christ. Think on these things. Do what you have learned and received, what you have heard and seen. 

And the God of peace will be with you, now and forevermore.

Note: This article was drawn from a commencement charge delivered to the Boyce College class of 2018.