What is behind all the cries for campus community, all the enthusiasm for sports and all the devotion of campus couples? The answer is simple: We all want to be part of something bigger than ourselves. On some intuitive level, we sense that there is something more important than "me, me, me."
Martin Luther King put it this way: "If a man hasn't discovered something he will die for, he isn't fit to live." Though few University students are poised to put themselves in mortal danger for their causes, the campus is riddled with students' attempts to find something worth living for: fraternities, clubs, long-distance relationships, sports teams and the most obvious example, Krzyzewskiville.
The problem with so many of these attempts at something greater is that we think we can get some kind of significance or purpose on the cheap. We think that to benefit from a fraternity, all we need to do is wear the letters, to be part of a club, all we have to do is show up at weekly meetings; or to participate in campus life, all we need to do is tent. We are always hedging our bets and not seriously committing to any one group, person or belief so that we won't miss out if another opportunity comes up.
Of course this is futile; it defeats the purpose of signing onto any group or cause. What makes these activities so powerful is that they push you past your limits; they draw you in with promises of intimacy, pride and achievement, then demand more of you than you knew you had.
The key ingredient to reaping the benefits of whatever group, relationship or activity you participate in is commitment, which is exactly what we are all afraid of. Some people may appear to be committed to a cause because they enthusiastically throw themselves into something new, but this is not true commitment.
Real commitment must stand the tests time, pressure and conflict; it is not something that can be born through words.
Commitment is what carries you through when you have every other reason to quit. It's what Rudyard Kipling describes in his poem,"If", when he says, "...and so hold on when there is nothing in you except the will which says to them, 'hold on!'" The moment when we are ready to vie up and our commitment takes over is the instant when we shed our old limitations and expand our boundaries. Thus, without this one key ingredient, all protest rallies, inspiring speeches, elegant proclamations and lettered uniforms are useless.
The other reward of being committed to something or someone is the sense of purpose it brings. Many students suffer from a vague dissatisfaction with their lives at the University, despite having good grades, social lives and other markings of a healthy student. We know deep down that though grades and money may be important, they aren't the most important goals in life. This is the point that King is making in his statement: A life must have a purpose greater than itself in order to be worth living.
A lasting sense of purpose, however, won't come from just any enterprise, even if we are fully and sincerely committed. We can't rush out and join the first cause we find and expect to derive meaning and fulfillment from it. God knows that there are plenty of options at the University: We could be socialists, fencers, ATO's, Cameron Crazies, rugby players, Christian athletes, full-time boyfriends or any of the other hundreds of distinctions on campus. Though our decision about what to participate in will obviously be personal and vary widely among individuals, all meaningful activities beyond work fall into a few broad categories: family, friendship, religion and the pursuit of truth. Only endeavors with one or more of these goals at their bases can sustain our deepest commitment and hold the kind of purpose about which King was talking.
James Todd is a Trinity senior.
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