The following article by Fr. Michael Monshau, O.P., a professor of liturgy, homiletics and spirituality at the Pontifical University of St. Thomas Aquinas (The Angelicum) in Rome, appeared in this week's English edition of L'Osservatore Romano. It is reprinted below with permission.

How is the world a better place today as a result of the schooling you have received in your lifetime? How was it good news for the whole world the day you learned how to read?

As these lines are being written, countless students in Rome and many places throughout the world are nearing the completion of another academic year. Among those finishing the work of this academic year, some students are completing their final year of study in their scholastic programs. This means they are working diligently to complete examinations, research papers, dissertations, theses defenses and the like, and will soon be in possession of the diploma or certificate towards which they have been working so industriously. Appropriately enough, upon their return to their family, diocese or religious community, the new graduates will undoubtedly be feted and congratulated for their accomplishments. Hard work deserves recognition.

However, beyond celebration, another side to the completion of an academic program must also be considered, and this has to do with one's eventual use of their educational accomplishments. It is sometimes said that Dominican superiors, whose role finds them frequently welcoming community members back to the priory with newly acquired academic degrees, remind their returning scholars "You were not sent to study so that another diploma can grace your office wall. You were sent to study so that you will be better equipped to place yourself in service to the Church." This reminder can be humbling, but it is very important. One does not study for self-aggrandizement; one studies in order to make accessible to others that which they have learned. After all, how authentic is the expert musician who refuses to play for others, the linguist who enjoys foreign films but will not help to interpret for the foreign visitor in distress, or the expert writer whose work is never shared with another person?

Pope Benedict XVI has addressed this issue at various times. At one point during the Second Special Assembly for Africa of the Synod of Bishops this past October, the Holy Father, with his universally recognized sensibilities of the true scholar, prayed the Rosary with the participants. These were joined, via satellite, with university students in Cairo, Egypt; Nairobi, Kenya; Khartoum, Sudan; Antananarivo, Madagascar; Johannesburg, South Africa; Onitsha, Nigeria; Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo; Maputo, Mozambique; Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso and Rome. The Holy Father took advantage of this occasion to remark upon the authentic mission of the student. He said, "Dear university students of Rome and Africa, I ask you to be operators of intellectual charity, which is necessary to face up to the great challenges of contemporary history, in the Church and in society. At university you must be sincere and passionate seekers of truth, building academic communities of the highest intellectual standard, where it is possible to exercise and enjoy that open and vast rationality that paves the way to the meeting with God."

Indeed, the completion of any student's academic program should be good news for the whole world, which should benefit from the increased knowledge of one more citizen of the world. When that graduate is a Catholic, it is to be understood that the Church Universal will become the beneficiary of the completed education of one more of its members.

This responsibility is not for scholars alone, however. Every one of us has been educated by our families, our faith, our cultures, the friends we keep, the entertainment we seek out, the travels and adventures we have enjoyed, and the wisdom figures we have known, as well as by our academic programs. We have learned much, and in the learning process our intellects and our spirits have been formed. The values of our families form us. Out of many beautiful memories of my long-deceased maternal grandparents, Mary and Jerry Mutz of Joliet, Illinois, in the United States, one of my clearest images is of Grandma opening the front door of their house to admit visitors while, before the guests had even fully entered the house, Grandpa was already opening the refrigerator door in the kitchen to serve refreshments (usually a bottle of beer) to those guests. There was always room, always a comfortable chair and always food and drink for company in that home, and no one needed to give advance notice of their arrival. Predictably enough, the spirit of hospitality is the trademark of their grandchildren and great grand-children today. "Come over to our house for dinner next time you're in town." "Come again next year for our Christmas gathering." "Have some more potica!" "Is that glass that you are holding empty?" These are the typical expressions one hears over and over again in that extended family, and that is the sign that those family members not only witnessed our grandparents' lessons in hospitality, but from one generation to the next, those lessons are being passed on. In that way, we are being faithful stewards of the family education we received.

What lessons have you learned from your family members? Your spiritual heritage has been formed by your families, your pastors, your favorite saints, your school, your teachers - perhaps you were mentored by a teaching Order of Sisters, Brothers or priests; your neighborhood; and your friends (which is why all parents must constantly be vigilant about their children's friends - the friends of your children, like it or not, are your competition in forming your children's values). What lessons have you learned from kneeling in adoration in the presence of the Most Blessed Sacrament of the Altar? What values have you formed by sitting with the pages of sacred scripture and absorbing those texts? What wisdom have you developed as a result of enduring the sufferings that have come your way in life? (Are you more compassionate or understanding of others who are suffering as a result of living through the pain in your own life?) What have you learned from suffering? What have you learned from joy?

As a writer, I observe a personal custom that keeps me faithful to my understanding that gifts received are just that: gifts for which thanks are due and then need to be passed on to others. Although I am nearly sixty years old, the nun who taught me how to read and write in the First Grade, Sister Andrea Prindes of the Joliet Franciscan Sisters, is still living and in relatively good health. Every time I publish an article or produce another book, the very first copy goes to Sister Andrea with a note that always says the same thing: "You taught me how to read and write, Sister, so this is your work, not mine! Congratulations!"

Responsibility accompanies whatever gifts we have received, whether they are the gifts that come from formal education, family wisdom, spiritual care, or in nicely wrapped boxes. A gracious response to any gift is to receive it, give thanks for it, decide how it can best be shared and then pass it along to others. Let me repeat that sentence in as few words as possible: The Christian takes, blesses, breaks and shares every gift he or she receives. Is that formula familiar? Take, bless, break and give. These actions describe Christ's own repeated actions.

When He wanted to feed the five thousand and the only food on hand was the gift of several loaves and fishes, Christ took those gifts, blessed them, broke them and gave them to the apostles to distribute to others. At table when He arrived in Emmaus, He was recognized after He took, blessed, broke and gave the food and drink that were served. These are of course, mirrors of what He did with the gifts of bread and wine at the last Supper: took, blessed, broke and gave.

Christ, then, is the architect of what we are to do with the gifts we receive, and that's why a university diploma becomes good news for the whole world. One's education is taken, blessed (appreciated); broken (focused) and broken (distributed) to others. That's also why wise and loving grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles are not just precious faces from our past but are also part of the future of the world. We are grateful for whatever we have received from them but we also make the sharing of their gifts (i.e. their influence on us) a way of life. In doing so we are faithful to our Eucharistic heritage. In doing so, we use all of our gifts properly by placing them at the service of others. What are your treasures? What are your most prized possessions, whether material or spiritual? How is the fact that you possess these treasures good news for the whole world? How will those gifts be passed on to the next generations?