Graduation 2016: Valedictorian Address

Posted on May 31, 2016 by admin

by Peter Reilly, Class of 2016

Reverend Father, Faculty, Parents, Guests, Students, and Graduates,

Though now is the time for words, I stand here dumbfounded as I wonder where the time has gone, and what these years that I, that we, have spent at Gregory the Great Academy might mean, both now and for the future. What will we take with us? What memories will guide us over the course of our lives? What are the cords that will bind the hearts of these friends of mine together for years to come? What are the chords?

Whatever the string or strain may be, we know the sound of it. We close our eyes, and are enveloped in a symphony of happy thoughts of times together, and they all come with a tune, a song. They are memories that will stay with us with the mysterious strength that songs stay with us, because they all were formed in the music of this school. Rays of warm light fall upon rows of boys dressed in blue and gray chanting the “Kyrie” of a morning Mass. Students, alumni, and faculty sing “My Comrade” bound shoulder to shoulder in an unbroken circle. There is a friend across the candlelit table at the Robbie Burns Supper smiling and singing along with the crowd. We can hear the thud of hands hitting refectory tables as “Sherramuir” is roared. We hear the virile iambs pulsing through the walls as the class in the next room learns a new song. The dorm hallways are alive with noise as in the distance a lone penny whistle plays the Butterfly Jig. Over the shoulders of boys singing “Haul Away Joe” we see bright colored rings and clubs passed across the backdrop of Scranton’s streets. We taste the tears that run down our faces as we sing “Non Nobis” after a rugby game.

These and a host of other memories fill our souls. We know them all by heart and we know their songs by heart. The ten of us before you are linked in friendship by these memories and by this music. One of the foundations of friendship is the enjoyment of a common thing and when you consider the multitude and caliber of our common experiences and memories, so linked together with a shared song, there is much cause for friendship. The harmony of hand and heart has been given to us, and given to us together with a music that will humanize and haunt us for the rest of our lives.

It is truly a blessing to be able to stand here now and know with un-shaking confidence that every member of this class is my friend. It is a blessing to be able to say that we all stand with the confidence that this camaraderie we have founded and celebrated here will prove lifelong. Ours is a friendship that has been forged in the fires of youth and joy, and hammered into shape on the anvils of the rugby pitch. Ours is a friendship engraved and embellished with laughter and jugglery. It is a friendship that has been tempered in waters: in literature, in logic, and poetry. It has been blessed in the chapel and sanctified by the Liturgy. And music, the right music, has presided over all, serving as a Divine voice, as though conducting a choir, and intoning the proper responses to His Divine mysteries. Music is the language of love, of friendship, of the merry life. Together we have heard it, together we have sung it, and we will carry it with us together even as we part ways.

There is something ethical about music. I would dare to further this thought of Plato’s by saying that there is something mystical about music. Music has the power to awaken and enliven the spirit. It is spiritual. It is religious. Nations have been bound together by their songs, and the rising and falling dynamics of those nations’ music are intimately connected with the rising and falling of their ethics. The power of song lies in its ability to move the soul. This soul-swaying power of music, that power that persuades and inspires, binds souls; and it is in this forge that our Class’s friendship was wrought. Within the songs of Gregory the Great Academy are linked memories, memories that will be remembered at their sound and with their sound. They are memories that, as alumni, we will hold dear to our hearts because in them is reflected the Good, the True, and the Beautiful.

On behalf of the Class of 2016, I thank all of you who have made these friendships possible, and who have refused to let the music of St. Gregory’s fade into silence. Our gratitude is beyond words. Seven of the ten members of this class have older brothers who attended the Academy in former times. When the old school was closed, there was a fear and a sadness that we would never have the chance to experience what our older brothers experienced. They told stories. They sang songs. “I heard of those heroes and wanted the same.” We all wanted to follow in our brothers’ footsteps to the doors of St. Gregory’s. And now, I stand here, grateful for so many things, wearing the same tie my brother wore when he stood at this lectern seven years ago to say farewell for his class. Thank you to all of you whose faith has kept this school alive for us, so that we may learn the songs of friendship as our brothers did, and as our brothers will. You have written us into the song of St. Gregory’s: a ballad of camaraderie. You have metered our names in friendship and rhymed them in the rhythms of the happy life. And although it has taken but a few years to learn these lines, they will not soon be forgotten. They are etched into our very souls—the joys, the sorrows, the victories, the defeats, the battles and banquets, the pains and pleasures. These compose the adventures of life that we all sang at the Academy. We are indebted to you for these memories and their music. We thank all of you who have worked and sacrificed so that the song of St. Gregory’s may resonate in the hearts of students, as they will resound in our hearts for as long as we live.

A Faculty of Friends

Posted on October 28, 2015October 28, 2015 by admin

The teachers at Gregory the Great Academy are a group of friends. That may sound very quaint, but this statement reveals something deeper than just nice feelings. It is a statement that drives at something essential, something that lies at the very origin of our school. In many ways, Gregory the Great Academy is a realization of the ideas and pedagogy of Dr. John Senior. In an unpublished work titled The Restoration of Innocence: An Idea of a School, Dr. Senior writes:

The essence of a school is its faculty. In a society like ours, whose older generation keeps some oligarchic memories, most think first of buildings, principals, students and then of “staff” (teachers as the work force). But schools (as in “schools of thought”) are groups of friends at leisure, apart from business, given over to the free exercise of their animal rationality, that is, a “faculty,” an enabled organ free from any purpose but its own exercise.

The faculty at Gregory the Great Academy takes this vision of a school to heart. The most important aspect of a school is not a building, a curriculum, or even the students. The essence of a school—that indispensable aspect that determines its character—is the teachers. The teachers at Gregory the Great Academy are a group of friends. We have worked together for years. Some of us have formally taught our fellows. Some of us even grew up together. This friendship among the faculty is not merely the makings of a pleasant work environment. As Senior says, the very essence of a school is this group of friends, friends who teach each other, friends who learn from one another. Schools that lack this principle, lack an essence, and therefore lack an ultimate end. In The Restoration of Christian Culture, Senior writes:

Education today simply has no finish line. A College or University is a collection of studies leading to several certifications but there isn’t any final cause of the institution as a whole. Like the nation itself, colleges and universities are propelled by the demands of the marketplace, pushed around by ideological pressure groups, and limited by inertia; they have no definition.

The idea that the teacher is somehow secondary to the curriculum is backwards. Recent trends in education treat teachers like easily replaceable workers on an assembly line. But the formal cause, or essence, of a school is the faculty. Teaching should be a labor of love, but like any labor of love, it will not be forced and it will absolutely not be manufactured and pre-packaged. Love exists in people and it must be communicated through people if it is to be communicated at all. The best systems and programs in the world will fail to be productive of a real education simply because people, unlike computers, are not programmable.

A faculty ought to teach not only the students, but also, as true friends naturally do, each other. A faculty should be friends who together discuss and ponder truths great and small. The teachers at Gregory the Great Academy are all here because they want to be: they want to learn from each other, to teach each other, and also to share their knowledge with their students in the diffusive spirit of friendship. But no one is able to share with another that which they do not themselves possess. Academic conversations outside of class and discussion groups are a regular occurrence. Such experiences do not describe the periphery of a school, they determine and form a culture and essentially shape the very institution. These friendships and conversations exist at Gregory the Great Academy and speak to what it is at its core.

Gregory the Great Academy Senior Class Pilgrimage

Posted on June 26, 2015June 27, 2015 by admin

Gregory the Great Academy Class of 2015 on the Way of St. Francis

Gregory the Great Academy is a testament that God does provide. My name is Joseph Long and I graduated from St. Gregory’s Academy in 2008. The heart of the school is pilgrimage. Faith is the essence of any true pilgrimage. As the beginning and the end, Faith permits the person to embark on a journey – providing immeasurable confidence and surety that God will provide. It is unthinkable that so many good things could have come from nothing. God has been with the school from its beginning. Just last week, I experienced once again the nature of God’s providence with this little community of men as the senior class marched into Rome, having walked from Florence following the footsteps of St. Francis in holy pilgrimage. It became clear to me once again that God rewards those who attempt goodness. As Aesop puts it, ‘fortune favors the bold.’

I met the pilgrims in St. Peter’s Square on Saturday, June 20th. All I remember are smiles. Joy emanated from the group as they approached me in song. How humbling it is to be met with such gratitude. Although I thought myself fortunate to be there with them in the Eternal City – to lend a helping hand to my brothers in a city that I know and love having lived there for a few years – it was obvious that these young men considered themselves the fortunate ones. They had walked from Florence to Rome without any money. Song and spirit was the only currency they had – and it proved itself priceless as God’s love acted through the generous and willing support of countless individuals whom they met along the way. They had experienced true charity on their pilgrimage of Faith. By humbling themselves to a state of poverty these young men were able to give more than they ever could have with money. The songs and juggling shows that they shared with little old Italian ladies in the middle-of-nowhere Italy were more than just an act. They were a free gift of joy that reaped even more joy in return. It was not the filling of stomachs that made these pilgrims happy. It was the filling of spirit. Nothing is more joyful than seeing someone else joyful. It brings people together in spirit – in a singular and supernatural phenomenon that we call love. It was this spirit that urged the senior class to embark on pilgrimage in the first place and it was the same spirit that provided them with immeasurable good things along the way. The men simply cooperated and put themselves at the mercy of providence, which they experienced to be quite merciful, or rather, charitable.

In Rome providence could not have been more rewarding. Joy was transmitted on such a large scale. Medieval piazzas provided the scene. A whirlwind of music, juggling and prayer made its way into the hearts and minds of the thousands of people who witnessed the well-trained talents of our little group of sixteen. The reaction of the crowds was for me a witness to the power of charity. Everyone was involved in one and the same action of giving. Laughter, applause, song, encore, pictures, more pictures, Red is the Rose – it is so good to give! We were so happy. Not because of the thousands of Euro these generous people were pouring into our hats, but because of the reception our giving was given. People are good. It simply takes a bit of Faith to see it. The root of pilgrimage, Faith provided the young men of Gregory the Great with a true Christian Spirit characterized in joy, humility and courage.

God has blessed our little school so generously with His Spirit. Gregory the Great Academy returns on pilgrimage every year to remind itself of its origin and its identity. To remind itself of the reality of this earthy pilgrimage. To remind itself that God is everything and without Him there is nothing. It is curious that more people do not put themselves at the mercy of God’s providence. It proves itself overwhelmingly charitable.

2015 Valedictorian Address

Posted on May 28, 2015June 24, 2015 by admin

Reverend Father, Guests, Teachers and Dorm Fathers, Alumni and Students:

Thank you for being here for the graduation of the class of 2015 from Gregory the Great Academy. I have never given a speech before, so I am a little uncomfortable. Actually, I would probably be more comfortable if someone threw me a rugby ball and I had to charge through all of you, score a try, and call it a day. But since that would probably make you uncomfortable. So I think I’ll just stick to the plan and do my best with the speech. I would like to begin with a poem, one of the first poems I learned at St. Gregory’s. It is called “The Rainbow”:

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky.
So was it when my life began,
So is it now I am a man,
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man,
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.

I think it is fitting that this poem I just recited should be the last poem I recite as a student of Gregory the Great Academy. When I walked up this aisle a few moments ago, I came up as a student with my class. In a few moments more, I will walk back down with my class, but I won’t be a student of this school anymore. I am moving on, together with my friends, to different days, to a different life; and this poem resonates with the passing of time—and I refer both to the passing of the days and the maturing of the mind. Good poetry, I am told, only gets better with time, and I know it is true with this poem. It has always been a guide to me through my times at St. Gregory’s. It has taught me what this school is about, and helped me learn from this school not only how to become a man, but also—and more importantly—what kind of man I should become. “The Rainbow” is a poem about the journey from childhood to manhood, and so has it kept me on course as I undertook the journey of St. Gregory’s.

Gregory the Great Academy is a journey—a journey that in many ways embodies the epic tales we love to read and that inform the way we look at our lives and the world around us. This pilgrimage is not always as grand or elaborate as the wonders chronicled in Homer’s Odyssey; however, it shares in similarly life-changing experiences and adventures. Just as Odysseus’ goal was to reach his home, so too is it our goal as students to finish the course and return home. But we learn from Odysseus that he cannot reach home until he has been changed in some significant way. He must return to Ithaca as a new man, having put aside his profession as a sacker of cities on the windy plains of Troy. Similarly, as students, we cannot leave until we have been affected in some way by this school—until we have become stronger by bearing up under challenge; until we have learned to live and to love no longer as boys, but as men. Every student’s experience of Gregory the Great is different. To some, the journey may seem as long and treacherous as the trials of Odysseus. Rugby practice may seem as daunting as fighting the stallion-breaking Trojans; and studying as terrible as having your brains dashed out by the Cyclops. I don’t think anyone thinks of our school as Calypso’s island, at least—which is probably a good thing. Others might relate more to the journeys of Telemachus who had a short, simple voyage to learn more about himself, the world around him, and the man he was called to become until he returned home, like his father, Odysseus, a changed man—no longer a boy. Whether someone has the experience of Odysseus or Telemachus, the person—the Child—is changed for the better for embarking on this journey. The whole point is that St. Gregory’s provides a mold for manhood by giving the young the experience of hardship—both its rigors and its rewards.

This is the essence of the education we receive here, and it is also the essence of a true faith—to come home to ourselves both physically and spiritually.

PhilsSpeech400 — Philip Gay, 2015 Valedictorian

My journey began, as most journeys do, at the beginning. But, like a true epic, it also began in medias res, “in the middle of things,” for I found myself suddenly on board with a hardy crew that was already underway on a great adventure, and I was fortunate enough to be given a space on the bench and an oar to pull with. I came to St. Gregory’s as a freshman in 2011. At that time, I knew nothing about St. Gregory’s except the legends that my brothers had told me. It wasn’t till about a month into the school year that I began to see what St. Gregory’s was about. In my freshman literature class, I learned a poem called “The Rainbow” by William Wordsworth. After I learned this poem by heart, and Mr. Fitzpatrick shared some of its secrets with me, I began to see what kind of adventure I was getting into. I learned from this poem that the “Child is father of the Man:” that what we do in our youth affects the men we will become, the men who will be born out of our childhood. My quest at St. Gregory’s was not one for a golden fleece or a golden city, but for manhood. St. Gregory’s fathers men from boys. What kind of men I didn’t know when I first set out, but I knew I would find out at the end of my journey—when I would myself become a man.

There were, of course, some dark stretches in my journey—a descent into the underworld, you might say, after the good ship went down in 2012. But the crew of St. Gregory’s survived Scylla and Charybdis and mustered again at a new port. St. Gregory’s rose again to new life, reborn to carry on its quest. The spirit of St. Gregory’s is not confined to a building, as we have seen. The spirit of the wanderer is hard to drown beneath the gulfs. Our school is much more than a building, just as a voyage is much more than a ship. Other vessels can be fashioned so long as the crew’s purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset and the baths of all the Western stars. We have not yielded. The rainbow returned after the storm. The adventure goes on.

I could tell you all the beautiful poems we have studied and memorized, and all the incredible books we have read. I could tell you about all the escapades we have gone on singing and juggling in New york, all the strange and interesting people we have met, on our Scranton adventures, and all the things that have affected me in little and large ways that helped to form me. But that would take four years to tell. I will, however, tell you the end result; what I have found after striving and seeking over these four years: the men of St. Gregory’s are men with a sense of duty, a sense of responsibility—young men who are able to give the right response at the right time—whose hearts leap up when they behold the miracles of our God; men who know when to rejoice, and when to be serious; men who know when it is good to act like boys and when it is good to act like men; young men who know what is sweet in life and what is terrible; men who are ready to go out into the world unafraid, confirmed and well armed by their experience of the good, the true, and the beautiful.

Although many of my classmates joined me mid-journey, as I, and all of us for that matter, joined the school in the middle of its journey, we have all undertaken the same course together, and together we have listened to and followed the truth of the poem, “The Rainbow.” The children we were at the beginning have become men at last. We set out on a journey, and have been changed by the experience, by the adventure. May we keep the lessons and the loves instilled in us by St. Gregory’s when we shall grow old, or let us die. I thank God for this school, for this class of friends, and for our parents and teachers who sacrificed so much to give us these gifts. Now we depart on our own journeys, having been strengthened by this journey together, which is now coming to a close for us. We will never forget these adventures, and our hearts will always leap up when we recall these days of our youth and the birth of our manhood, and may it ever fill us with a natural piety, that love for things essentially lovable, that will push us ever onwards to whatever adventures lie in wait.

This speech was given on May 23rd, 2015 by Philip Gay, Valedictorian of Gregory the Great Academy’s Class of 2015.