Last week, a local charter school held its small graduation ceremony. As is the custom at such events, a number of speakers took the stage by turns, each delivering beautifully crafted paragraphs of wisdom, humor, and reflection. The head of school, the principal, a teacher, the salutatorian and the valedictorian all spoke; and this was followed by the official speaker—one who, in this case, was an Ivy League lecturer and author.

For several weeks, the school had promoted the upcoming graduation ceremony and its highly-lauded speaker. This Dominican-born, Columbia academic and author would presumably convey his passion for liberal education—the “great books” kind. Importantly, he also offered an encouraging brown face in the crowd, someone who might welcome minorities to an education model often dismissed for its dead white males. In a city like Atlanta, this was meaningful. Disciplines of a Godly... Hughes, R. Kent Best Price: $5.51 Buy New $9.95 (as of 07:36 UTC - Details)

The head of school set a high bar with his opening speech; he managed to weave a golden thread of truth through an engaging yet weighty address, which he infused—as expected— with poetic language. A few more speeches followed; all were praiseworthy products of minds trained by the true, the good, and the beautiful. I doubt our local private schools could rival the intellectual firepower of this small school’s graduation stage.

When the valedictorian spoke, however, something remarkably powerful and otherworldly was unleashed. Although he opened with lighthearted remarks directed at his fellow students—the introductory humor of so many formal occasions—he soon launched into a stirring sermon that would’ve pleased Jonathan Edwards or Charles Spurgeon. He minced no words, straddled no fences, withheld no love. Here stood a scholar and athlete, distinguished for mind and body; yet his parting words aimed squarely at the soul.

This was not your typical, scripted charge to a crowd of half-giggling peers. With warm authenticity, he asked his classmates to consider ultimate truth—the kind that pierced through life and death. His suggestion was hardly inappropriate, given that they’d been mining Western civilization, examining human nature and discovering what the brightest minds prescribed for a good and purposeful life. They’d marched the high roads of the canon, so now he asked them to consider a towering forebear, the gospel message.

In an auditorium full of students, parents, teachers, administrators, school board members, the superintendent, and the Ivy League expert, he offered no poetry, no Cicero, no clever turns of Latin phrase. He made no vague references to finding our shared humanity, seeking light, or similarly unobjectionable ideas. Instead, he would point out that a sinful humanity, estranged from God by sin, could find hope and eternal life only in Jesus Christ; no system of thought—not even classical education—would fix mankind’s ancient and ongoing dilemma. Top 10 Ways to Avoid T... Shapiro, Josh Best Price: $17.93 Buy New $21.95 (as of 09:21 UTC - Details)

This was rather bold, maybe even crazy. How many people dare mention “sin” in a public and secular setting anymore? It’s an affront to our modern instincts, offending everyone from the agnostic to the pew-warmers of mainline and mega churches. Yet this graduate went there anyways. He didn’t use trendy or “winsome” language, either; his singular aim was not applause. Instead, he aimed higher, deeper. He would ensure that nobody left graduation without knowing the way, the truth, and the life. After this speech, nobody would imagine that “the good life” was really found in the beautiful pages of Shakespeare—although one might hear its louder whispers in The Brothers Karamazov or The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Midway through his speech, he addressed the audience as “friends” in the easy style of a seasoned pastor, but his familiar tone withheld no uneasy truths from them. Having already presented a lively picture of gospel hope, he continued on boldly where few dare to tread; he informed the audience that, by ignoring this gospel, some among them would face shattering words from the Savior King: “I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.”

The discomfort in the audience was palpable. There were no ecumenical shortcuts offered, and “the universe” would not open its arms to save the disaffected sinners. There was but one course of action. In loving but firm tones, he encouraged his classmates to embrace Jesus Christ, the source of all truth, and the only remedy for guilty and condemned sinners—even classically educated ones.

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