Invocation by Reverend Julia Barnes ’04,

By Bowdoin

Invocation for 2026 Commencement. Reverend Julia Barnes, director of the Rachel Lord Center for Religious and Spiritual Life

Welcome - We are gathered here today to honor the class of 2026 and their last four years of learning, relating and growing, and to witness their first step into the next chapter of their lives.  What a moment!

I imagine many of us have come from a whirlwind of experiences to be here on the quad, this morning.  Perhaps you’ve traveled thousands of miles, perhaps just a few hundred steps across campus - maybe your coffee spilled on you, maybe you can’t figure out how your graduation cap is supposed to stay on. Whatever has transpired for you, let's take a minute to center in and open to the chance we have to be together in love and witness of the class of 2026.

Let’s come present and take stock of where we are, of what and who are joining us here.  The blue sky, the grass and the soil below it,  the winged ones chirping around us.  As we move into some time of collective quiet, choose something in our surroundings that feels grounding to you, that quiets your mind and brings you into this moment. Maybe it is the feel of the earth below your feet, or the breeze on your face. Whatever it is, as we breathe in and out together, welcome the stillness it offers.

As we emerge from this quiet take some time to notice the faces that surround us …  fellow humans, connected by a shared love for these graduates. So many ages, walks of life and stories are held in this gathered group. I imagine, too, that there are many people who are not here with us today, but who are central players in our individual stories. They may not be here for a myriad of reasons, logistics, schedules, perhaps their bodies have died.  I invite you to connect with their love and care, as I imagine much of it is already here. 

What a symphony of support surrounds us – seen and unseen - as we prepare to hear story and song to mark this pivot point in the lives of the class of 2026.

Rites of Passage, like this commencement ceremony, are an essential part of being human. There is a simple power that comes with marking changes in our lives, with intention and care, in the presence of community – sometimes with big pomp and circumstance, and sometimes with simple, singular action.  If, as change happens, we make space to acknowledge the chapter that is ending by letting go of pieces that no longer serve us, and bringing forward those that do, we are better able to step fully and cleanly into the life in front of us. What bigger gift could our wounded world receive than these 499 graduates entering it with intention and care, as the realized and resourced humans that they are, with hope, questions, and a palpable care for the common good.  

Graduates and supporters, I invite you to open to what other actions might support closing the period that is ending now. Are there conversations to have or is there a letter to write? Is there a place you want to visit one more time, or a part of yourself you want to more fully forgive or celebrate?  Let’s lean fully into the public witness of this commencement, and also open to what personal shedding, honoring, and gleaning might support a full step into the new beginning that awaits each member of the class of 2026.

Listen now to the words that Stephen Charleston, an indigenous Elder of the Choctaw Nation and an Episcopal Priest, offers in his poem Let Your Life Begin: 

            Let your life begin again, And let it begin today.

            Let truth pass into you with all of its healing grace

            An acknowledgment of what has been done

            A door, not a cage

            An invitation to a fresh start on a parth already begun

 

            Stand and walk, out into the world around you

            Back into the broad valleys of your own heart

            Feeling life renewed with every step you take.

 

            You are not bound, you are not broken

            You are free and you are whole.

            Rise on the air that streams to heaven.

 

            Put on your faith, put on your hope.

            Open to welcome whatever comes.

            For this day your life begins again

            And will each day forever.

 

May it be so Class of 2026,

May it be so!