Charge to the Underclassmen

Good afternoon, my name is Kevin Radman. I am a Classical Liberal Arts major from Pennsylvania, and I have decided to put my education to use in the United States Marine Corps. It is my privilege to present a charge to the underclassmen. So, boys and girls, if I could have your attention, please.

This past Easter my mother showed me a drawing of mine from when I was quite young—probably only 7 or 8. It is a sketch of my family. At the top of the page my brother appears, walking along, his arms waving senselessly in the air, his eyes crossed, his tongue hanging out, an idiot’s grin on his face—goofy looking. One look at that guy and you feel sorry for me for having to live with him! Below me stands my father, scowling, with his hands planted on his waist and one eyebrow raised. His stare seems to come right out of the paper, as though he sees his artist, and disapproves. My mother approaches from the right; an immense snake, rising on her coils, baring her four razor teeth, glaring ferociously down on me. And there I am, in the center, a cute, innocent little caterpillar, with cute, innocent, fuzzy little legs and a very frightened countenance.

It is an extraordinary sketch, and, if I may say so, it is the very definition of immaturity. It is a pictorial representation of selfishness, and it is found bound up in the heart of youth. The childish person inhabits the center of his world. He looks to those around him for the satisfaction of his desires, but when those around him fail to meet his desires, this world darkens, and appears to him to be filled with monsters; angry, scary, or even simply annoying beings which trouble him on every side. This is a very unpleasant world to live in. Have you not witnessed this drama? Just ask one of those pug-faced tyrants, screaming for toys or candy in the supermarket isle, whether this world suits his taste. Whether his heart is at peace, and whether he thanks his heavenly Father for every good gift.

I have heard that college is a time for maturation; for growing up; for becoming men and women. Yet it seems that many find it a lot easier to get older than to get wiser. They do indeed learn to handle grownup things—they live on their own, they budget their time, they write clever papers and land impressive internships, but for all this they remain children. I have seen graduates, of this institution and of many like it, my peers and friends, who have indeed succeeded in the market place, but who justify their four rigorous years of training by working and playing to suite themselves! Listen! You may work very hard here, but if you do it for yourself, there is no profit in it. He who labors to be wealthy will not be satisfied with riches. He who seeks comfort in many friends will find himself lonely amidst the crowd. Whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for Christ’s sake and the gospel will find it.

I have heard that college is a time of preparation for life. Certainly, we are being trained in many ways, but do not forget that college is life. Indeed you ought to study, but God’s aim for you here, through academic study is no different than that which He is seeking to accomplish in the young child or in the grown man. It is not a job you are being prepared for, or even a ministry. Your preparation here is to learn daily to walk with God and look to Him for the satisfaction of your soul. Are you happy here? Are you thankful? Or do you live in a dark world. Are you just trying to tough it out so you can get on with you life? Your job will be equally sour, and your family life too if you do not look to heaven for the satisfaction of your desires.

This is indeed a harsh and unpleasant world. The distress of the child in the supermarket who isn’t getting the candy he wants is real. Your distress, as you labor on assignments is real. The monsters that surround you are real, but your hate and fear and worry and spite are your own creation. Do the days weigh heavily on you? Consider what is your candy—what is it that you long for, that brings you to your knees, squalling? Jesus said, "Seek first the kingdom of heaven, and all these things shall be added unto you." Think you that the college years are different?

Maturity, before God, is casting off the selfishness of youth. It is offering the sacrifice of praise to the One who never leaves nor forsakes, and declaring your contentment with that stout rod and staff which guide you though you walk through the valley of the shadow of death.

We, the graduating class of 2005, arrived here as mere children. We may yet be children! But know this, that though foolishness and selfishness are bound up in the heart of the child, the rod of correction will drive them far from him. I have felt that rod here. I have felt it, and I thank God for it. Your life during these four years will be closely attended to by a wise Father, a heavenly Father who makes no mistakes. Discipline, you may have heard, always involves displeasing the child, yet it is for our good, and the trials we endured yesterday, we celebrate today.

So, whether you are just getting started here at Patrick Henry College, or you are even now breaking through the tape at the finish line—whatever your hand finds to do—do with all your might, but do it as unto the Lord. It is the gift of God to enjoy your labor.