Grab a Shovel: Commencement 2025

Congratulations, class of 2025! And of course we want to thank the many parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, and perhaps a few family outlaws who have supported these graduates along their journey of disciple-scholarship here at Brigham Young University.

Class of 2025, you henceforth will be known as graduates of BYU. Welcome to this remarkable fellowship. You’re entering an assembly of alums nearly 460,000 strong that grows even larger when combined with your brothers and sisters from the full Church Educational System.

As BYU graduates, you are, as the scriptures put it, “a peculiar people.”¹ Who else knows what a MOA is or a JKB—or a DTR, for that matter?² And given that apparently so many of you know what a DTR is, it may not come as a surprise to you that BYU graduates are more likely to marry. They also tend to have more children than the average American. BYU graduates are nearly twice as likely to donate to charity and about four times as likely to volunteer.³

Now I don’t have any statistics on this one, but just based on how many BYU hats you see at Disneyland, I’m pretty sure we spend more time and money there than almost any other alumni group.

A sizable plurality of BYU graduates goes into professions such as education and healthcare. And in an age of increasing social isolation and institutional disintegration, BYU graduates tend to be civically engaged and connected to their neighbors, communities, and church congregations.

One researcher recently observed that members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the United States are not just “more religiously active” but also “spend more time hosting . . . neighbors, talking to strangers, attending community meetings, and even visiting the public library.”⁴

I share this not so that we feel better than others—or, alternatively, that some of you new graduates feel guilty for not volunteering more when you’re trying to launch a career and build a family. No, I share this only to suggest that as graduates of Brigham Young University, statistically speaking, you will have more opportunities to lift others around you, to serve your neighbors, and to influence the world for the better.

Today I invite you to embrace those opportunities. To paraphrase a sign on the corner of Cougar Boulevard: You have entered to learn, now go forth to serve. This can happen in natural ways as we each do our level best to follow our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ in all we do.

With his permission, I’ll share just one instructive example from the life of President Dallin H. Oaks, who we are honored to have with us today. He will also probably come and correct me if I get any of the details wrong.

As a young attorney, President Oaks and his work colleague Robert Bork caught wind that their law firm had decided not to hire a very promising graduate of the University of Chicago Law School named Howard Krane—simply because he was Jewish.

In the 1950s, many large Chicago law firms could unfortunately be divided into two types: Jewish firms and non-Jewish firms.

After some deliberation, Robert Bork and President Oaks decided to take a reasoned stand on behalf of Howard Krane. President Oaks knew Krane from law school and held his intellect and work ethic in high regard. Though juniors at the firm, the two attorneys believed if they were united in approaching the firm’s managing partner, Howard Ellis, their concerns would receive a fair hearing.

They went to Mr. Ellis’s office and explained their position. They said that it was discriminatory and shortsighted to pass over Krane because of his religion and that it did a major disservice to the firm’s future to have a policy that excluded hiring from such a talent pool as young Jewish lawyers. The managing partner listened and said he would consider their position and take it up with his partners.

The firm hired Krane—changing the firm’s policy, which was instrumental in changing the hiring practices of numerous other firms in Chicago.

Many years later, after Robert Bork had been nominated to serve as a justice on the United States Supreme Court and President Oaks had been called as an apostle in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, then-Elder Oaks was subpoenaed to testify of this experience in the Senate hearings on Robert Bork’s nomination. There he met Howard Krane and discovered that he had become the managing partner of the same firm that had almost not hired him simply because of his religion.

President Russell M. Nelson has repeatedly encouraged members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to become agents for peace in this divided world. “The Savior is the Prince of Peace,” President Nelson taught us earlier this month during general conference. “We are to be his instruments for peace.”⁵

In this moment of division, BYU graduates can stand as examples of peacemaking by going forth and serving others in ways that emulate the Savior. Listen to these words from President Nelson:

Obtaining an education and getting knowledge are a religious responsibility. We educate our minds so that one day we can render service of worth to somebody else.⁶

My young graduates, using your BYU education to serve will inspire greater peace and goodness in this world.

As a statistician, let me draw on an example from a discipline you all love and appreciate: mathematical economics. I know, I know—most of you humanities graduates thought the math lessons were over at this point. I promise I’ll try to make this one harmless.

Since at least the 1920s, mathematicians and economists have used something called “game theory” to explain strategic decision-making. One game-theory model is known as the “snowdrift game.” Although there are different versions, it generally goes something like this: Two people drive up to a snowdrift blocking the road. They can’t get through unless someone gets out of their car and shovels the road to remove the snowdrift.

In this game-theoretic framework, you win if you sit in your warm car while the other player shovels the snow.

I’m here to tell you, in the real snowdrifts of life that we will each inevitably encounter, Christ expects you and me—as BYU graduates and as disciples of Jesus Christ—to don those BYU hats we normally wear to Disneyland, put on our scarves, don our gloves, and grab a shovel. I promise you that others will see what you’re doing, and very soon they will follow with their own shovels.

Jesus Christ said:

Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid.

Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.⁷

I promise that others will “see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”⁸

It is our humbling responsibility to be Christ’s ambassadors in this world desperate for the Prince of Peace. My dear brothers and sisters—my dear friends—I love you. And I wish each of you the brightest of futures. This singular achievement of gaining an education has prepared you to render great service of worth to God’s children around the world. And so today, to you, the class of 2025, I say, congratulations—and go, Cougs!

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