Bob Hope, I am told, once began a commencement address in this manner: "It is a frightful responsibility to have to figure out what to say to young people as they complete their studies and move out into a confused and belligerent world. After much agonizing, I finally hit on a good thought. My advice to you as you prepare to go from this campus and face the turmoil and tribulations of life is, `DON'T GO!'."

Fifty years ago today, I too, was facing a kind of graduation day. I was more than a little uneasy about what would happen afterwards. I was in England, with many other Americans, finishing out military training for the invasion of Normandy. As the days dwindle down before the first encounter with enemy fire, many thoughts rattle around in one's head. You wonder if you can handle it. If you will do what you are counted on to do when bullets and bombs are coming your way. You wonder which people around you will keep their heads when the going gets rough. You wonder if the antagonism among a few people in your unit will prevent them from the instant cooperation that combat demands.

As it turned out such nervous conjectures were a waste of time. Although I didn't recognize or understand it until long after the war ended, the uniquely important aspect of human character that made combat bearable and caused most soldiers to perform well under fire was a quality of human nature that hasn't had much attention. From observation in 11 months of combat and over the years that followed, it seems clear to me that every person is capable of experiencing deep satisfaction from helping someone else. The act of helpfulness strengthens the helper.

You will recall in First Corinthians (XIII.13) Paul concludes his tribute to charity with these words, "and now abideth faith, hope and charity, and the greatest of these is charity." Charity, that divine spark of helpfulness, lies deep beneath all the automatic first tendencies toward self-preservation, self-interest and self-indulgence. Some people live their whole lives without ever discovering or activating their charitable impulse. That is a great misfortune, for the life lived only at the level of self-interest is unfulfilled, deprived of the abiding satisfactions and joys that come from being helpful.

Well, friends, joys and satisfactions are rather scarce items in warfare, but the ones generated by helpfulness are always available. They cannot be blocked or diminished by war or poverty or sickness or any other adverse situation. A person can always choose to focus on what will benefit someone else. In combat the acts of helpfulness became a way of life for many soldiers, creating a self-replenishing source of courage and morale. Helpfulness proved a shield against the fears and tensions of wartime. It was the seedbed in which heroism is formed and nourished.

One of the great heroes of our century came to Rockford College some years ago. His name is Abba Eban. He was born in South Africa and educated in England. He served in the British Army. After the nation of Israel was created, he migrated there and was serving as that country's foreign minister when a crisis occurred in 1967. The Egyptian dictator, Gamel Abdul Nasser, seeking revenge against Israel for an earlier military humiliation, expelled the United Nations peace-keeping forces from the Gaza Strip and blockaded Elat, Israel's only port on the Red Sea.

It was a moment of frightening tension in the world, with explosive ramifications in the Cold War. Nasser's hostile actions precipitated what became known as the Six-Day War. Abba Eban went to the United Nations and, in a televised speech, accused the Soviet Union of being the instigator and clandestine partner in Egypt's provocations. It was a challenge of breathtaking candor and courage and forcefulness. I doubt if there has ever been a more anxious and astonishing drama at the United Nations than that accusation.

From that moment I began sending invitations to Mr. Eban to speak at Rockford College. After several years he was able to accept. For 45 minutes he spoke without a note about Israel and the international situation. The extraordinary impact of his speech was, in part, due to the lucid analysis of critical matters and the Churchillian English in which he expressed himself, but also to the keen awareness throughout the audience that there wasn't an ounce of self-importance in the man. His devotion to the nation and the principles he served was all-encompassing.

I want to provide a footnote here about why Rockford College will always be as unforgettable to Mr. Eban as the clarity and power of his address was to each person who heard him. It was a warm day and the gymnasium was crowded. When his speech was concluded, he sat down heavily in the large elegant arm chair we had brought from Forrest Cool Lounge. The chair had casters on it and rolled backward on the platform until it hit a little retainer board. Then the chair tipped over. The huge hanging Rockford College banner gave way as Mr. Eban disappeared from sight. I thought, "Migosh! We've killed one of the world's greatest statesmen!." Fortunately, he was not badly damaged.

Let us now turn to another special moment on our campus. In January of 1973, we had a week-long program devoted to American Indian culture. One of the lectures was given by the Navajo novelist N. Scott Momaday. I quote from the beginning of his commentary on religion: "There is a Navajo ceremonial song which celebrates the sounds that are made in the natural world, the particular voices that beautify the earth. It goes this way:

"`Voices above, voices of thunder speak from the dark clouds; voice below, grasshopper voice speak from the green plants; so may the earth be beautiful.'

"There is in the idea of this song a comprehension of the world that is particularly native, that is integral in the Navajo, indeed in the American Indian mentality. The singer stands at the center of sound, of motion, of life. Nothing within the whole sphere of being is inaccessible to him. At least we have the sense that this is so and so does he. His song is full of reverence of wonder and delight -- of confidence as well. He knows something about himself and the world in which he lives and he knows that he knows. He is at peace."

At the conclusion of his address there was a prolonged silence, a vibrant, mute benediction in response to a commanding testimonial of faith. And finally, a storm of applause followed. Seasoned observers knew that something extraordinary had taken place. The audience reaction signified emotions far beyond mere admiration and appreciation of a message cast in poetic language and delivered with poise and power. The centrality of religion in the life of the indian spoke to some vital current in the hearts of that audience.

Six years later, we sponsored on the Rockford College Campus, the first national program devoted to the importance of the family. The keynote address was given by Michael Novak who has just received the Templeton Prize, a religious award greater than a Nobel Prize. Mr. Novak stated that the family is the only department of health, education and welfare that works. That judgement has now been verified by massive statistics. The child raised in a family by a father and a mother has a far greater chance than do other children for success in school, success in a job and success in marriage, and also a far better chance of avoiding emotional difficulties, juvenile delinquency, crime and problems with alcohol or drugs. Moreover, the intact family -- father, mother and children -- seems to be the best cure for poverty. Blanche Bernstein, who headed the welfare programs in New York City, revealed that less than 2% of intact African-American families in New York City were on welfare. Less than 2%. The importance of the two-parent family, both in the life of the child and in the well-being of society, cannot be over-stated.

Another speaker in that program, Dr. Joe Christensen, made two points which are fixed in my mind as the best answers to the attitudes which are tearing the family apart. He said the greatest gift a man can ever give his children is to love their mother. Likewise, the mother's greatest gift is to love their father. Obviously, he meant abiding, sacrificial love, not short-term passion. The second point was biographical. Dr. Christensen told how he grew up in a family with a very meager income. Thrift was the family's watchword in everything. "However", said he, "we children were extremely fortunate. We had everything money can't buy." What a tribute to the parents! How many children can say that?!

One other item out of Rockford College's past deserves comment in this sequence. When I came to Rockford College on February 1, 1960, this campus acreage was just woods and corn fields. The property had been procured several decades earlier through the farsightedness, persistence and persuasiveness of one person, Blanche Walker Burpee... She anticipated that the Riverside location where the college was originally built would one day be inadequate. The great depression forestalled any possibility of an early relocation, but Mrs. Burpee was able to convince enough people of the long-term need for a new campus that they bought shares and held this property in trust until another generation of college people were able to fulfill her dream.

The first buildings were occupied in 1961. And for three years the men lived on the new campus, the women lived on the old campus. Morning classes were downtown, afternoon classes were on East State Street. In those years, Rockford College had a split personality. The logistics of commuting and the challenge of sustaining a unified morale were about as difficult as was the need to find new gifts to pay for the enormous and ever-growing costs of construction.

By the summer of 1964 enough buildings were completed on the new campus to permit the consolidation of everything and everybody in the wonderful new quarters. But there was a huge problem. There wasn't any money available for the cost of moving. The business manager, Jack Heckinger, said "We'll just do it ourselves with volunteer labor and borrowed trucks." I said, "Jack you are out of your mind. Moving the library collection alone is out of the question. Have you ever packed and moved just one household's worth of books?"

"We can do it", he said.

On August 15, 1964 at 7:30 AM, more than 100 volunteers -- students, alumni, faculty, boy scouts, and many others -- assembled in the downtown college chapel to get their work assignments and instructions. Twelve Rockford trucking companies donated 16 large vans for the day and innumerable smaller trucks of every size and shape were also used to transport 5000 cartons, chairs, desks, beds, dressers, lab equipment, etc. Every item was marked with its destination as to building and room. The Red Cross supplied first aid stations at both ends of the journey. Alumni provided a 9:30 coffee break and a farm-sized luncheon. The task was completed by mid-afternoon. The only dollar cost was for the repair of the frame of a small borrowed truck that had buckled under the weight of library books.

Even more remarkable than the successful completion of a gargantuan labor was the exhilaration of the laborers. The move was a drama of good will and self-restoring energy and unwavering cheerfulness that amalgamated a heterogeneous group of workers into a highly effective labor force.

Whereas skillfully applied logistics and unusual physical exertion would hardly be expected to culminate in one of the peaks of history for an academic institution, the move did, I believe, constitute such an event for Rockford College.

A service organization rises to heights or remains insignificant according to the character of its personnel. A service organization is sabotaged by egotism, pomposity, jealousy or self-righteousness. The move was an inspirational event for it was a consummate demonstration of single-minded service with each participant, regardless of strength, age or calling, doing the utmost to complete whatever needed next to be done.

What do these little glimpses of past events have in common? Why were these items chosen? Because in each instance, there is an extraordinary and admirable result that comes from subordinating a concern for one's self to a worthy endeavor. The mutual helpfulness of the soldiers in combat, Abba Eban's single-minded dedication to his nation's well-being, the Navajo's acknowledgement of the supremacy of religion in every aspect of life, within the family, the spouses' love for each other and their provision for their children of everything money can't buy, the cheerful and unflagging persistence of Mrs. Burpee in acquiring the new campus and the heroic labors of the volunteer brigade that transported the college's material to East State Street -- all are instances of the public and personal benefit of what Duncan Williams called the "Sentiment of Submission", that is the giving of oneself in service. As Harold Blake Walker wrote, "We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give."

The Roman Catholic Church still uses the term "vocation" to describe a god-given commitment to devote one's life to the church. Actually, the word "vocation" means a calling. Both calling and vocation are terms that used to signify the life-work of every individual. They implied a sense of mission, of service, not just a matter of earning one's living. Those who succeed greatly in anything, whether it is paid work, or parenting or providing a new campus, are those who address themselves with a deep and abiding sense of vocation.

Finally, one of the great advantages of attending Rockford College, as I have tried to suggest, is that the experience here is enriched far beyond the substance of classroom learning, for that classroom learning can be applied within a broad understanding of God and mankind that is absorbed from encountering on this campus people who benefit the world through their selfless service.

May God bless each of you graduates in the years ahead.