That’s exactly what’s happening in today’s passage from John’s gospel. As Jesus gathers with his disciples for what will be their final meal before his arrest, he’s not just preparing to say goodbye—he’s preparing them for what comes next. He has just washed their feet—a radical act of humility—and Judas has just stepped into the night to set betrayal into motion.

It is in that intimate, uncertain moment—when everything is about to change— that Jesus turns to the others and speaks what might be called his own commencement address. Commencement speeches across cultures are often words of guidance offered at a threshold—spoken not just to celebrate the past, but to prepare people to carry something meaningful into what comes next. In that spirit, Jesus offers this charge:

“I give you a new commandment: that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”

The commandment is not new because they’ve never heard about love before. It’s new because of how love is defined. As I have loved you—that’s the shift. Jesus is raising the bar, not just pointing to a generic love, but to a love shaped by his life: a love that includes, forgives, serves, and sacrifices.

On a day like today—when we honor achievement and look ahead with hope—it’s striking that Jesus doesn’t offer a success strategy. He doesn’t give a formula or a motivational slogan. Graduation speeches often focus on success—which makes sense. But our faith invites us to ask a deeper question: What does real success look like? It reminds us that the most lasting impact isn’t found in status or recognition, but in how we love.

One speaker who understood that well was Fred Rogers—a Presbyterian minister, educator, and television host best known for Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. Speaking to Dartmouth College’s graduating class in 2002, he said: “When I say it’s you I like, I’m talking about….that deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive—love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed.”

Jesus says, “Just as I have loved you.” And that’s a high calling. It’s not a love you earn. It’s not a reward for good behavior. It’s the kind of love Jesus offers even to those who will misunderstand him, abandon him, betray him.

Which means this love isn’t rooted in perfection. It’s rooted in grace.

It’s love that says: No matter what comes next, you belong to something deeper than fear and wider than failure. That’s the kind of love that changes lives. That’s the kind of love Jesus calls us to choose.

And right there—we name what this church claims as its mission: Choose Love. Be the Light. Change the World. It begins, always, with the choosing—because Jesus helps us understand that love is a decision we make again and again. That kind of love leads us naturally into the deeper question of purpose: not just what we will do with our lives, but why.

Oprah Winfrey, speaking to Harvard’s graduating class in 2013, reminded students that love, and purpose go hand in hand.:

“The challenge of life, I have found,” she says “is to build a resume that doesn’t simply tell a story about what you want to be, but why. A story that’s not just a list of accomplishments, but a story that’s really about your purpose.”

This is why we turn today not only to scripture, but to the voices of those who have spoken into moments like these—commencement speakers and real-life witnesses who remind us that choosing love can lead to unexpected and beautiful transformations.

One such story comes from Chris Gardner, whose life was portrayed in the one of my favorite films The Pursuit of Happyness (Happyness misspelled on purpose.) In the early 1980s, Gardner found himself homeless while raising his toddler son. Despite tremendous personal hardship, he chose to prioritize his son’s well-being over his own comfort. He didn’t pursue success out of ambition alone—he pursued it because love required it. He took unpaid internships, stood in soup kitchen lines, slept in subway bathrooms, and carried his child in one arm while holding on to hope with the other.

Gardner eventually became a successful stockbroker and founded his own firm, but the heart of his story is not triumph—it’s love. The kind of love that changes lives, that stays present when everything else falls away. The kind of love that gives even when it has nothing left. That’s love like Jesus. That’s the kind of love we are called to choose.

It’s the kind of love that commencement speakers, like Jacinda Ardern, former Prime Minister of New Zealand, have pointed to. Speaking at Harvard University’s Class of 2022, she said: “In a disordered world, the path of least resistance is cynicism. But the path of courage is kindness. The path of strength is empathy. And the path of leadership is love.”

What she names as courage, strength, and leadership—Jesus names simply as discipleship. “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” Not if you have all the answers. Not if you get everything right. If you love.

When you live that way—when you choose love, especially when it’s hard—you are being the light. And light, even in small flickers, changes what we can see. It changes what’s possible and even helps others find their way.

One more quote. Desmond Tutu, in a graduation address at the University of the Western Cape, South Africa, said: “Do your little bit of good where you are; it’s those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.”

We may not be able to change everything, but we are always able to bring something of God’s love and light to the places we go.

So, to our graduates, and to all of us moving through change:

May you start with the choosing –

of love that helps you carry light into places that need it most,

and changes the world—not by power, but by grace.

Because Jesus did not say: “Try harder.” He said: “Love one another. As I have loved you.” May you Choose love—like that.
Amen.