My 2026 Commencement Address

Today, as you stand in this season of transition between who you were and who you are becoming, I want to speak to you not simply as a former teacher, but as someone who has always seen something deeply special in you.

Life moves fast. One day you are a grade student trying to figure out homework, friendships, and your identity. Then suddenly, you are in college, making decisions that will shape the course of your future, your character, your vocation, and ultimately your soul.

And so if I could give you one message for the road ahead—it would be this:

Cultivate a discerning heart. Not merely an ambitious mind. Not merely a successful career. Not merely a comfortable life. But a discerning heart.

Because many people become educated without becoming wise. Many become accomplished without becoming good. Many spend their lives climbing ladders only to discover they leaned them against the wrong wall.

The deepest question is not, “What will I do with my life?” The deepest question is: “What is my life centered on?”

Think about the great rose windows found in old cathedrals. Every line, every section of colored glass, every pattern radiates from and depends upon the center. The beauty only exists because everything is ordered toward one focal point. Remove the center, and the window loses its meaning. The pieces become fragments instead of a masterpiece.

Your life is the same way.

If Christ is not at the center, everything eventually scatters:
success without peace, relationships without depth, achievement without meaning, and pleasure without joy.

But when Christ is at the center, even suffering can become meaningful, sacrifice becomes transformative, and every part of your life begins to align into something beautiful.

Know this: the world will tempt you to build your identity on grades, status, money, appearance, approval, or accomplishment. But none of those things can hold the weight of your soul.

Only God can.

That is why discernment matters so much. Discernment is learning to recognize what leads you toward the center and what pulls you away from it.

The world needs you.  It needs men and women who pray. Men and women who sacrifice. Men and women who keep their word. Men and women who live with conviction. Men and women who know that greatness is measured not by power, but by love.

Denzel Washington once gave a powerful image about eternity. He spoke of the souls that will one day surround us—some clapping because we became who God created us to be, and others grieving because we ignored our purpose, wasted our gifts, or chose comfort over courage.

Live in a way that brings you heaven applause, not just human’s.

Do not drift through life. Do not numb yourself with distractions. Do not give your best energy to things that will not matter in eternity.

You were made for more.

And remember this too: Your vocation is not primarily about what job you have. It is about the kind of person you become.

Whether God calls you to marriage, priesthood, service, leadership, or some mission you cannot yet see, your task now is to remain open enough to hear His voice and courageous enough to follow it.

You do not need to have your entire future figured out today. But you do need to choose your center.

If Christ remains there, your life—like the rose window—will become something radiant, ordered, and beautiful.

I am proud of you. I believe in you. And I pray that years from now, when people encounter you, they encounter not merely intelligence or success, but wisdom, integrity, faith, and love.

Become the man God dreamed into existence when He created you.

And never settle for less.

God is madly in love with you!

Teacher Appreciation Week: The Seed Sowers

“Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.” — Proverbs 22:6

As Teacher Appreciation Week comes to a close, I have been reflecting with deep gratitude on the extraordinary teachers of our lives, especially those of our schools of St. Patrick Academy.

Schools are often measured by academics, programs, rankings, or achievements. While those things matter, what must be highlighted in a school as well is the spirit within it. At St. Patrick Academy, our teachers make this place more than a school. They make it a family.

Every day, they give of themselves generously and quietly, often without recognition and without counting the cost. Their work extends far beyond lesson plans, grades, and classrooms. They are forming hearts, shaping character, and helping young people discover who God created them to be.

I often think of our teachers as gardeners.

Like gardeners who rise early to tend a field they may never fully see bloom, they see themselves as seed sowers every single day into the lives of our children. They encourage, correct, inspire, console, challenge, and believe in students — even on the days when students struggle to believe in themselves.

That kind of work is sacred.

What moves me most is that our teachers approach education not merely as a profession, but as a ministry. Ministry cannot be measured by a paycheck. It is measured in patience, compassion, sacrifice, and love. It is seen in the extra time they give, the concern they carry, and the hope they never stop offering.

I notice how deeply they care when students do not get along. They do not ignore conflict or wounds. They call students higher while remaining close enough to encourage and affirm them along the way. They care deeply not only about what students are learning, but about who they are becoming.

And I also notice their joy.

I see the smiles after a breakthrough moment. I see the pride when a student gains confidence. I see the excitement when a child discovers gifts they never knew they possessed. Those beautiful moments are the harvest of seeds planted long before anyone else notices the growth.

St. Patrick Academy is a different and better place because of these dedicated men and women.

They are not simply employees of a school. They are builders of character, witnesses of faith, and instruments of hope. Long after report cards are forgotten, the love, guidance, and example they provide will remain alive in the hearts of our students.

On behalf of our entire community — administration, parents, families, and especially students — thank you.

Thank you for your dedication. Thank you for your sacrifices. Thank you for loving our children so well.