On May 15, 2026, Bishop Dorothy Sanders Wells returned to her alma mater, Rhodes College in Memphis, to deliver a baccalaureate address to the graduating class of 2026. The following morning, the bishop was honored with the Doctor of Humanities Honoris Causa degree at the commencement ceremony. We present the transcript of her remarks here.

Members of the Class of 2026: Congratulations! Tomorrow morning, you will become the newest alumni of Rhodes College—and will have joined the ranks of some of the most privileged of our nation’s college graduates. You will go on to graduate or professional school or employment, eager to move on and flex your newly-minted muscles.

But before that, I hope to offer a few brief words to help you consider what it means to live this incredible one life that you have with the courage, conviction and purpose with which Rhodes College has equipped you.

In 2019, columnist and author David Brooks introduced us to his intriguing book, The Second Mountain, an interesting look at how we might find meaning and purpose in our lives. In The Second Mountain, Brooks posits that humankind tends to spend many of our best and most productive years pursuing ascent of what he calls the first mountain. I would describe that first mountain as pursuit of what the world considers a successful career path that may well define our entire earthly existence—business, medicine, law, academics, architecture, engineering, the fine arts, economics, finance, public policy, or (last, but certainly not least) nonprofit community support. We commit ourselves rather wholeheartedly to climbing that first mountain. And, while we climb that first mountain, we tend to be motivated by the accoutrements that society has placed on that pathway to success: accomplishments, achievements and accolades, compensation and commendation, promotion and prestige.

At some point, Brooks suggests, we may find ourselves beginning to focus on something more than the way in which we make a living and measure our career success: We may begin asking ourselves about how we make a life. We may find ourselves searching for meaning and purpose in a life in which we hadn’t given ourselves time or opportunity to process—in the words of Frederick Buechner—the place at which our “deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” We may begin to connect or reconnect with our particular life passions; sometimes hardships introduce us to passions we never even knew. And that second mountain—I’ll call it, the mountain of true meaning and purpose—begins to come into view.

Admittedly, Brooks may, with The Second Mountain, have been aiming for an audience with a tad bit more mileage behind them than a class of excited young college graduates, but nonetheless I think his work has some great kernels of wisdom even for those who are just in the earliest phases of this journey of adulting.

In case you might be wondering, I suppose I’m one whom David Brooks might say has climbed the second mountain: After 18 good—and by anyone’s measure, successful—years of practicing law here in Memphis, I did something that made colleagues’ heads spin: I started over. I allowed myself to deeply listen; I worked with a discernment committee to help me process what had been by the time a decade-long sense of call to ordained ministry. While some folks might have chosen to linger on that first mountain a bit longer, to enjoy the breezes and vistas, and to bask in the sunlight of accomplishments, I chose to climb down. The second mountain was in view, and even though I had no idea what I’d find once I began climbing, what I did find was far more extraordinary than I might have imagined. From the opportunity to walk in loving relationship with God’s people in two churches here in the Memphis area came the opportunity to serve 82 churches and three schools in Mississippi. And I’ll add this: Being formed well here at Rhodes College—becoming that lifelong learner in every sense of the word—meant that I was prepared for the changes that were in store in my life. For that, and for every professor here who was invested in my life and my future, I am forever grateful.

So, as you make your way up that first mountain, I long to offer you a few words of advice from someone who began climbing that first mountain a little while ago.

First, I’d encourage you never to lose touch with your life’s true passions; find a way to weave those passions into climbing the first mountain. When we keep a pulse on our life’s true passions—the things that bring us joy—that first mountain will seem even more fulfilling. It was here at Rhodes that I experienced my first taste of serving the community—helping with an after-school program at a neighborhood center near Downtown. The bug bit me hard—and I never surrendered my love for working to make the world in which we live a better place, one relationship at a time.

Next, I’d suggest that you do something that life here at Rhodes should have taught you well: stay curious. Ask questions, keep learning. You’ve been formed as lifelong learners; please remember what an incredible gift that is, and don’t ever set that gift aside.

Next, I’d remind you to be observant; look around you. What does the world need, and how do your particular gifts make the world a better place? Be a solid relationship builder in your community; invest in your community and her people and let compassion be your guidepost. Your gifts make the world the place that we all want to see.

And, one last piece of advice: Please don’t get too comfortable on that first mountain. The temptation is great: Between the accomplishments and accolades, the compensation and the commendation, the prestige and promotion, it’s easy to get so comfortable in that space. Please resist the temptation. You’ve been equipped well to climb the first mountain. When the urge to move toward that second mountain comes, embrace it; what might await you there could in fact be something so much greater than you ever anticipated, and indeed, could be something even more fulfilling and rewarding than what you experienced on that first mountain.

I salute you all—scholars and achievers—and I look forward to seeing the brilliant contributions you make to our world. Goodness knows, we need you all.

Thank you so very much.