I was asked to give a speech for my dad's surprise retirement party, so I wrote some stuff down and gave the speech last night. Here it is:
When I was a kid I used to imagine my dad had a little bit of Indiana Jones in him. I guess that wouldn't be the first name that springs to mind when most people think of my mild-mannered, even-tempered dad.
But, Indiana Jones was a college professor, just like Dad. They both taught students and kept office hours. They both went on journeys to exotic lands, brought back what seemed to me to be rare antiquities, possessed knowledge concerning foreign cultures and ancient religions, and I wouldn't have been surprised if the Feds showed up one day to consult my dad about the location of the Ark of the Covenant. It was easy to imagine Dad teaching class one minute, and then sneaking out of his office window the next to seek adventure in Israel, Russia or Africa.
There were other childhood benefits to having a college professor for a dad. Living right near campus was like having the best backyard ever. There was a big athletic center, a great library and even an endless supply of top shelf babysitters.
But the most important benefits were less tangible. Growing up influenced by a man who embraced the pursuit of knowledge and intellectual curiosity has influenced my own approach to the world in more ways than I could even begin to describe.
Dad is open to new ideas, new ways of thinking and a variety of points of view. He's on an endless quest to learn, and he's open to being taught -- an approach to life I can only hope to emulate.
Like Dad, if I find a subject that sparks my interest, I read everything I can get my hands on and learn as much as I can about it. Like Dad, I find inspiration in writers, artists and thinkers who came before me and learn as much as I can about them. Still, the important thing is not what I've learned but how I've learned it. And that's what my dad taught me -- how to learn. In his writing and speaking, Dad has also taught me how to digest that knowledge, develop a unique point of view on it, and then present it back to the world as something new.
Thanks to his job, Dad has taken many trips around the world and I've been able to go along with him to places like England and Italy. But it was during a trip to Louisville, Kentucky that I realized how much Dad and I had in common when we both made pilgrimages. Dad's pilgrimage was to the monastery at Gethsemani where he was able to visit the home of one of his biggest heroes, influences and inspirations, Thomas Merton. We walked through the open fields until we came to Merton's ioslated hermitage, where he did some of his most important writing. As we stood looking at the humble building, I could see by the look on Dad's face how meaningful the place was to him.
My pilgrimage was a detour to New Jersey to visit the convenience store where the R-rated independent film "Clerks" was shot. Kevin Smith, the filmmaker who wrote and directed the low budget comedy, was one of my heroes. We went out to the broken down hole in the wall, and when we got there, it really felt like I was somewhere important.
At the time I thought this trip must have seemed strange to Dad. As I think back on it, I realize he must have understood it. It occurred to me our experiences must have been similar. Granted, Dad's was a spiritual experience influenced by one of the greatest minds for peace and understanding the world has known, and mine was influenced by a cult filmmaker. Still, we were both visiting sites that were unassuming on the surface but important in the lives and work of our heroes. Dad taught me the search for knowledge extends beyond reading and writing, and into the realm of the senses.
As I grew older, my range of literary references grew beyond Indiana Jones and I found another comparison for my dad. This was Atticus Finch from "to Kill a Mockingbird." Like Atticus Finch, my dad has fought for minorities. This fight has ranged from important issues to minor ones. When I was a kid and Dad was watching sports, every time I asked who he was rooting for the answer was always the same: "The underdogs."
But, more seriously, Dad has always used his job as a platform to continue the pursuit of these important causes, mostly involving civil rights. His heroes and intellectual inspirations are men who fought for these causes -- people like Howard Thurman, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Thomas Merton. These men used their spirituality and intellect for the good of the world, not for themselves -- just like Dad.
In "To Kill a Mockingbird" Atticus Finch says, "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view, until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it." That quote gets to the heart of one of Dad's most passionate pursuits -- the search for interfaith communication and understanding. Dad has taught me that it is important to look at things from all angles. His faith has led him not to exclude all others, safe in the knowledge that he's "right" but instead to become open and accepting, safe in the knowledge that peace and love is right.
There's another quote that reminds me of Dad. This one is about Atticus Finch, spoken by one of his neighbors. She said, "Atticus Finch is the same in his house as he is on the public streets." That quote puts into words what I have always admired about Dad but was never eloquent enough to articulate myself. I never had the Dad who said, "Do what I say, not what I do," because when it comes to my dad, "saying" and "doing" are the same thing. I can always trust Dad and believe in him because I know the morals he believes in and the faith he holds dear come from his very inner core. I've had a front row seat to see that this is not a sanctimonious persona he puts on when he speaks in front of a class or a congregation or a group of colleagues. This is simply who he is. He has influenced others by being true to himself, and being the best self he can be.
Part of Dad's mission in life has been to spread the word, in both spiritual and intellectual pursuits, and perhaps, most importantly, when spirituality and intellect cross paths and become one. Thanks to Dad, at least 36 years' worth of students, colleagues, congregations, and peers have changed for the better, and I'm as proud to be among them as I am to be his son.
