Morning Prayers: Penny Pritzker
By Penny Pritzker
Senior Fellow of the Harvard Corporation
Former U.S. Secretary of Commerce (2014-2017)
(The following is a transcript of the service audio, March 31, 2026)
As a senior fellow at the Harvard Corporation, it's a profound honor for me to be here with you for morning prayers. Being here today brings back memories of my attending Kol Nidre and Yom Kippur Services here in Memorial Church when I was an undergraduate. For me, Harvard has not just been a place of learning, of challenge, and of course of deep growth, but it's been a place that's helped me build community and a place that has nurtured my soul.
So permit me to tell you a bit of my personal story. When I was 13, my father died suddenly of a massive heart attack. He was the rock of our family, a life force of fun, brilliance, and connection. My world was shattered. My mom and dad were building a business together, and I experienced their incredible partnership, best friends, soulmates, and also partners in business, even though my mom was not on the payroll.
She was a remarkable life force herself, whip smart, innovative, and dynamic. Today, my mom would have been like a chief operating officer, a chief marketing officer. But my parents showed me the joy that could be found in building something together. And the profound purpose in building a business, creating jobs and opportunity for individuals, families, communities, and our country.
But after my father's death, my mother struggled terribly. She was, of course, an incredible mother to us, but she tragically suffered from deep depression and succumbed to the scourge of alcohol dependency 10 years after my father's passing. So, at that young age and being an orphan by 23, the loss of both my parents shaped me in ways that I didn't yet really understand. I was terrified.
The loss of both of them left a hole in my heart that has never fully healed, but their deaths also taught me how much community matters, how much it matters to be seen, to be heard, to be supported, to be loved. It's critical to wellbeing, especially when the ground beneath us feels so uncertain.
Indeed, Harvard was that community for me. At a time when I needed stability and support and love the most, I found it here in classmates, in professors, mentors, and frankly, some of my best friends to this day. The university didn't just educate me. At times, the people here have held me close, and that expression of love, support, and community has stayed with me for my lifetime, and for which I am very, very grateful.
My parents instilled within my brothers and me an obligation to serve others, given how blessed we were. We saw them support worthy cause after worthy cause, and get involved in politics. And as my predecessor at the Department of Commerce, the late Secretary Ron Brown said, "It is our responsibility to leave the ladder down for as many others as possible." That was my parents' philosophy as well. They were always so proud to see a bellman at one of our motels become a general manager at a hotel.
That is also the philosophy and the values at Harvard, to not just nurture our minds, but to nurture our souls and to serve the greater community called our country and our world. When I sat in these pews as an undergraduate, listening to the rabbi at the time, he talked about the Jewish concept of Tikkun Olam, which is a Hebrew phrase that means, repairing the world through action. It is a view that the world is not finished and that we must do our part to make it better. It is also the belief that each of us is responsible for making our world and our community more just, more humane, more whole. Not through grand gestures alone, but through daily acts of kindness, service, responsibility, and care.
The idea is that we have a moral responsibility to improve the world. It's an obligation. It's a calling. A recognition that our lives gain true meaning when we are directly connected to the well-being of others. There's no question that we're living in a difficult and unsettled moment here at this university, across our nation, and around the world.
Many feel uncertainty, fear, economic insecurity, division, and strain. Institutions we care deeply about, including this one, which we revere, are being tested like never before. Veritas, or truth itself, is being challenged. The path forward is not always clear. And yet I remain hopeful because it is at this moment of progress, Harvard continues to move forward. Under the leadership of our remarkable president, Alan Garber, this university is expanding opportunity, advancing research that improves lives, recommitting to free inquiry and civil discourse, and responsible leadership, and preparing all of us, especially our students, not just for success, but for purpose.
So make no mistake: progress is rarely linear, but it is real, and it comes from people willing to engage, to listen, to be humble, and to act with integrity and purpose, even when it's difficult. Universities like Harvard, at times like this, matter most. They remind us that ideas have power, that evidence matters, that community is built, not assumed, and that leadership begins with a responsibility to do all we can to help others.
So my prayer this morning is a simple one. May we each leave here committed to repair what is broken, patiently, persistently, and with grit. May we recognize the incredible power of service to others, to heal, to bridge divides, and to restore faith in one another. May we choose every day to do right by others, not because it's easy, but because it's necessary. May our actions bring light, may our service bring hope, and may we continue together with the unfinished work of repairing the world.
Amen.