Faith, Hope, and Service

A Speech by Leslie Lenkowsky
Chief Executive Officer
Corporation for National & Community Service
Commencement
May 19, 2002

Father Glynn, members of the clergy, faculty and staff, students of the university, family and friends, and most of all, graduates:

Thank you for giving me the honor of speaking to you and for the degree that you have conferred upon me today. Only in America, as my grandparents would have said, could a Jewish boy from New York City be so privileged.

In my capacity as CEO of the Corporation for National and Community Service, I get to see a lot of America, visiting the service programs that we fund through AmeriCorps, Senior Corps, and Learn and Serve America. I love the opportunity to get out and meet the participants in them-some of whom are working through this university in an AmeriCorps program that tutors middle school students in math and science - and lots of other volunteers, including many more students of this great Jesuit university, which aims, as you put it, to encourage students "to not only be good at what they do, but also to be good people."

Studies confirm what most of us know: that for many people, religious faith is one of the primary motivations behind doing good. Recent data from the University of Maryland, for example, show that rate of volunteerism among young adults who attend church at least once a week is almost twice the general rate of volunteering among young adults.

We only have to think about some of the greatest volunteers in history to recognize the connection between faith and service to others. Mother Teresa, of course, is the preeminent modern example. But there are others. Millard Fuller, the founder of the Corporation's largest grantee, Habitat for Humanity, is driven to build houses for the poor by his evangelical beliefs. Chuck Colson founded Prison Fellowship Ministries after his religious experience in prison in the 1970s. Most people don't know that Goodwill Industries, one of the nation's largest charities, was founded by a Methodist minister, Edgar Helms.

And of course we should remember the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. We use a saying of his-"Everybody can be great because everybody can serve"-as the motto for the Martin Luther King, Jr. Day of Service, which the Corporation sponsors each January. What we don't mention is that the saying comes from a sermon Reverend King gave at the Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta shortly before he was assassinated. It takes as its text the words of Jesus from the Gospel of Mark: "Whosoever will be great among you shall be your servant; and whosoever of you will be the chiefest shall be servant of all.'' As Reverend King explained: "You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love, and you can be that servant.''

So, the connection between faith and service seems obvious to many of us. But when you think about it, things did not have to be this way. All major faiths have made a distinction between this world and the next, and this world has never come off very well in the comparison. St. Paul reminded the early Christians, "We have here no enduring city, but seek the city that is to come." The early Christian theologian Augustine took the image further, dividing human existence into two cities, the City of God and the City of Man. Inhabitants of the City of God merely sojourned on Earth, looking forward to the day when they would be called to their eternal reward. As for this world, Augustine believed-well, life is tough, and not likely to improve.

Given this, one would think that people of faith would be justified in ignoring this lesser world and its petty concerns. Feeding the poor wouldn't seem like much of a priority if you're waiting for the heavenly kingdom to arrive. But that has never been the case. No major religion has ever taught its adherents to shrink from meeting the needs of the poor, the homeless, the downtrodden, and the oppressed. In fact, just the opposite: the concern for bettering the estate of the poor runs in all major faiths. The Jewish religion, through the principles of tzedakah (charity or justice) and tikkun olam (healing the world), teaches that social action to improve the lot of the less fortunate is perhaps the most important obligation of Judaism. Catholics have always presented the seven corporal works of mercy-with commandments to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, care for the sick, and the like-as essential to living a holy life. Zakat, the practice of giving aid and comfort to the poor, is one of the five "pillars of Islam," the dictates of the Muslim faith. Protestant Christianity, while emphasizing the importance of faith over works as the means of salvation, nonetheless calls believers to engage in acts of compassion for the poor.

You might say, then, that service is in the very DNA of religion. Service is one way the faithful of almost every religion demonstrate their love of and obedience to God, by reaching out to His children. Service to others has also given religion some of its most beautiful and meaningful stories and parables.

Consider the story of the Good Samaritan. I hope it's no insult to the Jesuit fathers, who have instructed you over the past few years, if I go back over the parable, because it's important to hear exactly what the story says. A man is journeying on the road when he is attacked by thieves who rob him of his belongings and leave him half-dead. A Pharisee, one of the priestly caste, passes by and does not stop. A Levite, a lay religious leader, does the same. Then comes a Samaritan, a member of a breakaway sect that is condemned by the leaders of mainstream Judaism. The Samaritan stops, pours oil and water in the man's wounds, binds them up, and puts him on his donkey. The Samaritan takes him to the next town and deposits the victim at a local inn, paying for the man's care out of his own pocket.

We have only the bare bones of a story here-all plot and no interior dialogue-which has made the parable of the Good Samaritan a story that resonates throughout a variety of cultures and ages. People have interpreted it in different ways. In the Middle Ages, theologians read the story allegorically, with the inn symbolizing the church, and the man finding rest by coming into relationship with the community of believers. Many modern thinkers read the story almost exactly opposite-one man's individual virtue at work, outside of the limiting bonds of organized religion, as symbolized by the cold-hearted religious figures who pass by. Some have even put forth a Marxist reading: only the oppressed Samaritan proletarian has the compassion to stop, whereas the bourgeois Pharisee and Levite leave the beaten worker in the ditch.

In truth, we don't know anything about why the Samaritan stopped. The story is a blank screen on which we can project our own ideas about service to others. It is useful, though, to consider some of the things that the Good Samaritan doesn't do. He doesn't petition the local authorities to improve the lighting along the road, advocate for security cameras, or call on the police to beef up patrols. He doesn't nominate himself for citizen of the year. He doesn't, when reaching out to the beaten man, reflect on how good this will look on his application to grad school.

I'm being a little tongue-in-cheek with you. There's nothing wrong with being an advocate for structural improvements that alleviate the need for charity. There's even nothing wrong with getting a little recognition for your good deeds. But these things are not at the heart of service to others. They are certainly not the foundation of religious service. Faith moves us not to set up programs or lead campaigns, but to give of oneself, spontaneously and freely, out of love for other people and respect for their dignity as children of God. The Samaritan gave of himself-that's the singular fact presented by the parable. I would submit that that is because it is the only thing necessary when it comes to service-the gift of self. Everything else is icing on the cake.

To maintain the integrity of your service, it is essential to remind yourself always that the most precious gift that you can give is your love and concern for others. Volunteerism is wonderful-in fact, it's essential to a healthy civic life-but we should be honest that even the best intentions can go awry. Institutions, programs, social welfare professionals: these are important, maybe even necessary, but they can sometimes make us forget the value of spontaneously-given service. I wrestle with this problem all the time in administering the programs of the Corporation for National and Community Service.

Most dangerous of all is the temptation to build utopias. You can make the world a better place through service, but you cannot make it a perfect place. Sin and suffering are the human lot; even Christ reminded His apostles, "The poor you shall always have with you." Service, in the religious context, is not about building a utopia, a word that, after all, means "no place" in Greek. We are not meant to create Heaven on Earth. Augustine is right: We presently sojourn in the City of Man and look forward to the City of God.

But we are also called to fix up the City of Man while we're here, easing the lives of the most needy among us. This is where religion and service truly intersect: both of them give hope to the hopeless. What is religion, after all, if not the purveyor of hope? Similarly, the service given by people of faith inspires in the hearts of others the hopefulness of loving and being loved.

We've seen an awful lot of evil in the world in the past few months. We've watched as thousands of people were murdered by fanatics with a twisted view of the proud and ancient Muslim faith. A new world was brought into being on September 11th. You are the first class of students to graduate from college and enter as young adults into that new world, with its changed expectations and clearer sense of the evil that humans can harbor in their hearts. "Lucky me!" I can hear you thinking.

Well, yes. Lucky you. Lucky you, that you have come of age now, when our national purpose needs strengthening. Lucky you that you have come of age now, when there is a pressing need to renew our proud traditions-political, cultural, and religious. Lucky you, that you have come of age at a time when your service-service I hope, I know, that all of you will give over the course of your lifetime-can be connected to such fundamental principles as love of country, freedom, and reverence for the divine.

Clearly, not everything is at ease in this new world. There are frightening forces at work, and much uncertainty. But in this troubled age there is also the opportunity for you to render service to the inhabitants of the City of Man that will take root and flourish beyond your wildest imaginings. It is not too optimistic to say that, with courage and love, the gift of self that you offer to your nation, your communities, and your fellow citizens might just change the world, and make our sojourn here in the City of Man a little more comfortable.

"Be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who wait in hope for the Lord," says the Biblical psalmist. At the risk of offending the authors of that passage, both human and divine, I would make an addition: while you're waiting, get out there and do some good.

Congratulations, and the best of luck to each of you.

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