The Parable of BYU-Hawaii

One of the great blessings of being part of this campus for a time is the opportunity we have to participate in the devotionals, commencements, convocations and lectures that are provided. But no matter where we may go after this, we still can access this wealth of inspiration through the byuh.edu website.

The internet archives (quick links--Devotionals and Speeches) provide a library of addresses dating back many years. It was there that I found this commencement address by Elder Holland from December, 2011 entitled "The Parable of BYU-Hawaii." The message is for the students, but contains counsel that we can use as we work with them. I have included an excerpt of his address here, but if you want to read the talk in its entirety, click this link:  http://devotional.byuh.edu/media111217holland

It is a truism of scriptural history that every dispensation begins with a vision—the brother of Jared, Moses, Nephi, and Joseph Smith offer us their examples. Name an era, identify a prophet, and I will remind you of the vision. God always needs us to elevate our view. Jesus said to the Twelve just after they were newly called, “Lift up your eyes” (John 4:35). That is what He continues to say to us. I don’t know all of you individually, but I know you collectively, and I have lived the years you are now living. I know only too well how much you may feel that you have disadvantages, but I say shame on you if you do not see the wonderful blessings you have also had—including this educational experience at BYU–Hawaii—and the wonderful world of possibilities lying in front of you. And, I can add, shame on me as one of your leaders (along with your teachers and parents and anybody else) if we have not helped you to lift up your eyes—that is what leaders and teachers and parents are supposed to do. You may rightly apologize for not studying hard enough or for going to the beach too often—as we all have those things to apologize for—but no one should ever apologize for lack of opportunity, for lack of possibility, for lack of divine love to guide us, or for lack of dreams to make us better than we ever thought we could be, because all those gifts are ours for the taking if we want them. We must never subject ourselves to a blurred vision of our potential or accept the atrophy of spirit that says as an excuse, “But you don’t know what my problems are. You don’t know what limitations have been placed in my path.” You must never say that. The prophets have not said it, the Savior did not say it, this school did not say it, and you must not say it. Take your dreams, take your education, take the love of a whole Church full of people, and go make something of yourself. That is what this school has done, and it is lesson number one from the parable of BYU–Hawaii.

Here is the second lesson, and, for today, the last. This university is a special place. It is as lovely and rarefied as the sea breezes that blow in on this North Shore. But I warn you that you will not always live in nor work in nor raise your children in such an idealized, protected, and Zion-like environment as this. I say Zion-like because that is quite literally what Laie is or is at least trying to become. The Prophet Joseph Smith’s vision of Zion, or the City of God on earth, always featured at its center a temple and a university—a temple being “the university of the Spirit” and a university being “a temple of learning.” You have had those two wonderful institutions at the center of your lives here, with PCC and a lot else thrown in for good measure. Furthermore, you have been blessed with some of the best and most loving teachers, neighbors, friends, faculty, and staff that you could ever have. But as graduates you will be pushed out of this nest—you are about to be so—ushered out of this little academic Garden of Eden, and you will be spending time—a lot of time—in the cold and dreary secular world. Don’t resent that. Don’t resist it. Don’t resist it any more than Adam and Eve did. It is part of the plan, and that world out there desperately needs you and has been blessed by you and your predecessors already. So don’t see your work-a-day world as a loss or a limitation or something less wonderful than BYU–Hawaii. See your life away from here as the next step, as an opportunity, as a chance to have an impact, as part of your “mission” in life.

Someone once wrote, “A ship is very safe in the harbor, but that is not what ships are made for.” So, Seasiders that you are, set sail! Take the best you have been given, and go be strong. Go out into a world that for the most part does not yet have the gospel of Jesus Christ, does not yet know what you know, and certainly does not have the skills, insights, and moral values you have been given. The Lord said to the first generation of elders in this Church, “Ye are not sent forth to be taught, but to teach the children of men the things which I have put into your hands by the power of my Spirit” (D&C 43:15). That is what He is saying to you graduates again today. Don’t you dare just go blend into the amoral, telestial, hardscrabble world of today. Don’t go to your first job or your first neighborhood or your first staff meeting and just begin to act like everybody else. Be strong. Be true. Teach quietly, by example if by no other way—and that’s the best way—rather than being taught. You can’t control everyone else’s morals—you’re about to learn that—but you can control your own. You can’t control everyone’s language, but you can control your own. You can’t control everyone’s personal standards, but you can control yours. And thus the light of the gospel—the figurative lighthouse of Laie—can shine in all the world to which you go. Don’t give up and don’t give in. Be strong if you are the only Latter-day Saint for a hundred miles in any direction. Stand straight. Stand true and firm. In the parable of BYU–Hawaii, that is what this little school does in the world of higher education, and it is what we expect you to do.