LATROBE, PA – Mark T. Latterner, C’81, executive director of the Jubilee Association, a leading nonprofit organization serving Pittsburgh’s Hill District and Polish Hill communities, delivered the principal address during Saint Vincent College’s 180th Spring Commencement Ceremony on Saturday, May 9:
Archabbot Martin, Father Paul, members of the faculty, honored guests, proud families and friends—and most importantly, the graduating Class of 2026:
First, I’d like to thank my wife, Cheri; my sister, Rose, also an alum; and her husband, Jim; and my good friends Fathers Tom Acklin and Justin Matro for being here with me today. I love you all.
It is truly an honor to be here with you today. In fact, it has been 45 years to the day since I sat where you are now. I have received many comments from my friends and classmates who found out I was speaking today with several of them threatening to “air” my dirty laundry from my days at Saint Vincent, so I am glad they were not invited.
When Father Paul first asked me to speak, I have to admit I was a little anxious. I still am. When I mentioned I had this opportunity to a fellow Saint Vincent graduate and my pastor, Father Mike Roach, and he said, “Oh yeah? I had Mister Rogers as my Commencement speaker.”
Wow. How do you compete with that?
My first thought was to Google Fred’s speech, asking you to pretend I am he and read it to you. But I’m not sure that’s what Father Paul had in mind—and I believe I have something worthwhile to share. So here goes.
As I reflected and prayed over what I should say, I came to see my Saint Vincent story as one where, by the grace of God, my weaknesses, fears and shortcomings were transformed into something far greater than I ever imagined at my graduation.
When I arrived at Saint Vincent, I was insecure, lacked confidence and had developed a habit of acting out to get the attention. Since I am the second oldest of seven kids with six of us born in eight years, I blame this on my parents. Rosie, please don’t tell your mother I said that!
I was a mediocre student who chose Saint Vincent mostly out of good Catholic guilt. It was the closest Catholic college from my home after Saint Francis in Loretto—where my dad and grandfather went—but it was way too close.
I was the first in my family to leave home. I remember my parents dropping me off in front of Aurelius Hall. My mom started crying—probably tears of joy—but I took them as sadness. Then I overheard my dad say as they got back in the car, “Don’t worry, he won’t make it until Christmas.”
I was terrified. Panicked. Was I going to survive?
My fear of failure was overwhelming, because deep down, I feared my dad might be right.
But Saint Vincent turned out to be exactly where I needed to be: a place where I was nurtured and cared for.
The blessings started with the first person I met, one of my roommates, Al Novak—who is one of the finest people I’ve ever known. My freshman prefects, Dave Trenton and Brother Norman, looked after me and helped me feel secure. Every professor I had learned my name and most took roll; they cared that I showed up.
Without realizing it, I embraced the Benedictine motto: Ora et Labora—pray and work. At the time, my prayers were mostly prayers for survival and things I wanted (like acceptance, good grades, a girlfriend)—but the seed was planted, and it would shape my life.
My fear of failure pushed me to work hard academically, and, when I encountered success, for the first time in my life, I enjoyed it—the sense of accomplishment and self-worth. I was motivated to strive for this newfound success, and the environment at Saint Vincent fostered my development.
A good example of this was second semester freshman year. I was struggling in an English composition class. Panicked I was going to fail, I went to the registrar’s office to drop the class. The administrator wasn’t there, but Father Campion, the actual registrar, came out and asked what I needed.
When I explained the situation to him, he refused to let me drop the class.
Instead, he tutored me for the rest of the semester, and I ended up doing well in the class.
Through the friendships I developed with some of the monks, I was drawn into the importance of my spiritual life. Monks like Father Roland Ripoli—“Rip,” as we called him. He was a bit of a bumbling but lovable soul. He cared for those in need, the ones others overlooked, even though he needed an assist from time to time himself.
Rip unknowingly became my first connection to Jubilee Kitchen. He would take food from Saint Vincent—perhaps without permission—and bring it to the Kitchen guests. Not sure if any of the monks went hungry, but lives were touched.
Even after graduation, my insecurities didn’t disappear, but I had the education and tools that led me to working hard and achieving a successful career in banking. I was blessed with the grace to turn my shortcomings into motivation. The success I had in my career I attribute to the value of the education I received at Saint Vincent but also the confidence and determination that I could be successful.
I also had the desire to do more than have a successful business career, which led me to Jubilee Kitchen.
There I met Sister Liguori.
She was a petite, physically frail woman with deforming arthritis. However, she was known by Jubilee’s guests—affectionately, or not so much—as “Attila the Nun.” She loved people unconditionally, but she expected them to act appropriately.
I must admit I was also afraid of her pretty much until the day she died.
But I came to love her, especially her determination and her particular form of compassion—one that was both unconditionally loving but strong. She believed in offering a hand up, not just a handout. And she showed me how to see Christ in Jubilee’s guests but also not be a facilitator of their vices and bad habits.
Before long, she asked me to join the Jubilee board and I have been involved with the organization ever since, many of those years as board chair, which really meant doing what she told me to do. I don’t recall ever having the courage to tell her no.
As her health declined, I was coincidentally contemplating retirement, and as it happened, shortly after I retired, Sister passed away and I stepped into my current leadership role to continue her legacy of service and ensure Jubilee’s future. I naively thought how hard can this be? Raising a little money (which I had no experience doing) and renovating our building so we can feed people in need. Easy.
That was March 2020—just weeks before COVID.
Everything changed and nothing was easy, but we never missed a day of feeding our guests.
In that time, I learned deeply about the providence of God and remain amazed at the blessings we received.
Just yesterday—six years later—we celebrated the ribbon-cutting for our renovation and expanded building. We have increased our staff and launched enhanced services to help our guests improve their lives if they choose to.
Looking back, during my business career I developed all the skills and relationships I needed to be successful at Jubilee. One could argue my working experience was training for when I was needed at Jubilee.
But without my prayer life, my pursuit of my relationship with God, as imperfect as it was, and still is, I am not sure I would have achieved any of this success.
What began here at Saint Vincent has grown over time, and I have come to more clearly realize that I am a beloved child of God.
He intimately knows me—my selfishness, my faults, my sins, my weaknesses—and He loves me anyway.
If I were the only person who ever existed, He still would have sent His Son so that He could have a relationship with me. All he wants is for me to love him more than all those other things I desire—that I think are necessary or important.
How about that?
The Creator of the universe—of billions of people and trillions of galaxies and way more stars than there are grains of sand on the earth—hung on a cross and thirsted for my love.
And through His grace, I am more than my shortcomings. My brokenness is where I encounter His mercy. I love the saying, “the Devil knows your name but calls you by your sin. God knows your sin but calls you his beloved child.”
Like the prodigal son, the times I turn away and go down the paths of selfishness, doing what I want to do, He waits for me. And when I return, He runs to me and embraces me.
Then He calls me to love others the same way, and sometimes, by His grace, I even succeed.
When I feel inadequate, anxious, He simply asks me to bring what I have—my loaves and fishes—and He does the rest. Jubilee is a textbook case of this.
Even in the suffering that I have experienced, which has been significant. Nearly five years ago, my 28-year-old son, Nick—a fellow Saint Vincent graduate—passed away.
That loss broke me and Cheri. I cried out for answers, for things to be different.
I am still waiting for those answers.
But I believe that just as Jesus wept with Martha and Mary, He enters into my sorrow. He meets me in my brokenness and loves me there. In that, I find comfort.
So, I encourage you: Pursue God. Invest in a real, personal relationship with God.
Not just understanding ideas or trying to follow rules. But truly coming to know the God who pursues you and who loves you more than you can imagine, even on your worst days.
Congratulations, Class of 2026.
May God bless you always.
