“There is no act of charity that is not accompanied by justice…”1
A commitment to making every effort for justice must be a pillar upon which DePaul University’s mission rests. To remind us of this, visitors to the Lincoln Park student center are welcomed by a statue of Msgr. Jack Egan, a twentieth-century priest, with the question engraved below, “What are you doing for justice?” This is not a new thread woven into an ancient tapestry. It has been an essential part of our Vincentian story since the beginning. Yes, our context today differs from that of Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac. However, the same basic obligation remains that binds us to uphold justice, human dignity, peace, and the common good, even in the face of great challenge.
The horrific killing of George Floyd and the protests and unrest that have followed reflect the deep pain caused by a history of racism and systemic injustice in our country. We may be searching our hearts and minds to know how best to respond. Several days ago, Fr. Memo Campuzano advised Mission & Ministry staff: “It is good to stop, identify, and name the pain, anxiety, and fear. Then find the purpose in our pain and fear…then embrace that purpose and ACT.”2
Our various actions may be different. They could include protesting in the streets or simply posting on social media. Some may donate money; some may try to educate themselves and others. We may find ourselves having difficult conversations. Hopefully, we will engage in political processes. All are called to rethink what we have been doing individually and collectively, as well as what the future can and should look like.
Doubtless there are many ways to work for justice and to try to make better a broken world. Yet, whatever these ways are they must be both personal and systemic. They must, as difficult as it may seem for some, come from a place of love. And, justice must be the pursuit. To do less would be to fail our Vincentian mission.
The brutal treatment of George Floyd by a police officer, and the protests that have followed throughout the United States, are tragic and wrenching events in and of themselves. But they are also part of a long and painful history of racial injustice in our nation. What thoughts and feelings emerge within you as you pause to reflect on these events in our history? As you identify and name them, are you able to discern a deeper purpose and are you compelled to take steps toward concrete action? How can you take these steps together with others?
1) 452,To Francois du Coudray, In Toul, 17 June 1640, CCD, 2:68.
2) Internal Mission & Ministry email, 2 June 2020.
Reflection by:
Tom Judge, Chaplain, Division of Mission and Ministry
Throughout history, prophets across many faith traditions shook their fists at God and people in positions of power, angry at injustice in the world. It is with devastation, heartache, and outrage, that we in the Division of Mission and Ministry share their lament.
It is an indisputable truth that Black lives matter. The generations-long oppression of the Black community in the United States is an affront to the human dignity our Vincentian mission demands that we uphold. As a Division, we stand firm in opposition to white supremacy, anti-blackness, and the inequitable status quo.
To our Black students and colleagues, we mourn with you. The brutal murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery,Tony McDade, and far too many others tear open deep wounds inflicted by police brutality and systemic racism; wounds that have been opened too many times before. We hear the dirges and see your stress, fear, and anxiety as COVID-19 continues to unveil the systemic racial violence in our healthcare and economic systems, disproportionately marginalizing communities of color. We see you torn between the urgency to join protests and the fear of leaving your homes. We hear you when you say that you are tired, you are aching, you are empty in the midst of a world on fire.
We also see your strength. Your power.
In times such as these, our instinct is to be out in the world, responding to the needs of our communities. We welcome our students, faculty, and staff to pray with us, to grieve together, to be together, to use our shared pain as a catalyst for change. Although we cannot be together in physical space, we stand in solidarity with you in prayer and in action. We understand with clarity and conviction that the struggle for racial justice is lifelong, and we are committed to standing with you.
The Division of Mission and Ministry deepens our commitment to:
Root ourselves in faith and prayer that drive us to action
Defend the inherent dignity of every human person
Educate ourselves and each other regularly in theories that shed light on systemic racism and the forces of power, privilege, and oppression
Prioritize this same education in our work with students
Facilitate restorative justice training with our staff and student leaders
Foster mutual, long-standing relationships with community partners whose work promotes the wellness of Black lives and dismantles systems of oppression
Create direct service opportunities that allow students, faculty, and staff to build community, grow in awareness, engage in meaningful dialogue, and strive toward systemic change and solidarity
The way of solidarity is vast. It ranges from education to dialogue that centers Black voices to direct action that brings about structural change. We call the DePaul community to action. If you are unsure where to begin, we have included with this statement a non-exhaustive list of resources, community partner organizations, and avenues for systemic change.
Action Resources
As an educational institution, a Vincentian institution, dialogue during a time of crisis is essential. There is an incredible wealth of resources and expertise within our institution. Now is the time to be sharing those resources and engaging in dialogue about the underlying causes of what we are witnessing right now. This is a non-exhaustive list compiled from suggestions by DMM staff and student leaders.
Documentary: 13th Documentary: Agents of Change
Historical Drama: Just Mercy Historical Drama: The Hate U Give Historical Drama: Fruitvale Station Historical Drama: I Am Not Your Negro
Historical Drama Mini Series: When They See Us Digital Mini-film Series: 26 Mini-Films for Exploring Race, Bias, and Identity with Students, The New York Times
Podcasts
The 1619 Project: New York Times 6 part podcast
RadioCode Switch: NPR news viewed through the lens of race and identity
Suggested Reading
Non-Fiction: The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander
Non-Fiction: White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo
Non-Fiction: How To Be An Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi
Non-Fiction: Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson
Non-Fiction: Racial Justice and the Catholic Church by Fr. Bryan N. Massingale
Non-Fiction: Jesus and the Disinherited by Howard Thurman
Letter/Essay: Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates
Fiction: Kindred by Octavia Butler
Poetry: Wade in the Water by Tracy K. Smith
Essay: “The Case for Reparations” in the Atlantic by Ta-Nehisi Coates
Cone, James H. The Cross and the Lynching Tree. Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 2013.
Douglas, Kelly Brown. Stand Your Ground: Black Bodies and the Justice of God. Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 2015.
Massingale, Bryan N. Racial Justice and the Catholic Church. Maryknoll, N.Y: Orbis Books, 2010.
Action
The following organizations and nonprofits are long-standing community partners of the Division of Mission and Ministry who dedicate their work to service, racial justice, and equality. Visit their websites to learn more about their work and how you can get involved. If you are able, consider making a donation.
Make your voice heard in these times by writing to your political representatives. We have included the Network Lobby for Catholic Social Justice step-by-step email advocacy guide at this link.
Write, sign and share petitions that resonate with your values and beliefs. You can start by visiting https://www.change.org/.
Register to vote at https://vote.gov/, and cast your ballot in local and federal elections. Get involved with your local city counsel office. If you are dissatisfied with their leadership, run for office and make the change you want to see.
The Division of Mission and Ministry is pleased to announce that the Mission Committee of the Board of Trustees has approved a plan to review and possibly revise DePaul’s mission statement. The 2020-21 Mission Statement Review is beginning now, and you are invited to participate in the process.
Building on the Vincentian practice of valuing experience and creating guidelines or statements that generally affirm what is already taking place as well as communicating aspirational goals, the review of the DePaul mission statement will take place through a 4-part process:
Rolling out a “Seeds of the Mission” campaign to share stories and gain insights about where the mission is already operative at DePaul through highlighting mission in action. This campaign will start this month and its details will soon be shared.
Creating a document over the summer and fall based on academic research about the history of DePaul’s purpose/mission statements that also brings in external perspectives through accreditation documents to outline how DePaul’s mission statements and understanding of mission have evolved to meet DePaul’s changing reality over time.
Conducting a Mission Survey with the members of the Board of Trustees in the fall.
Holding institutional mission dialogues in the fall to foster an understanding of DePaul’s mission with diverse community stakeholders as we seek to ensure DePaul’s mission statement reflects mission in a 21st century context.
In the winter, the information gained through executing the phased plan above will quite likely feed into a revised university mission statement, which we imagine will be concise, memorable, and actionable, and which would be accompanied by a lengthier supporting academic document. A revised mission statement, if warranted, would be presented to the Board of Trustees for approval in May 2021.
Division of Mission and Ministry staff expect that the Seeds of the Mission campaign and mission dialogues will involve people at all levels of the university in the mission statement review process and expect it to generate new ideas for DePaul moving into the future, provide an opportunity to educate people on the mission, and increase DePaul community members’ knowledge about and ownership of our shared mission statement and mission.
We look forward to involving you in this process!
Guillermo Campuzano, C.M., Vice President for the Division of Mission and Ministry
Considering our changing reality at DePaul and throughout the world, we are called to adapt and change with it. While not always an easy task, it is necessary to adjust our approach to our work or studies as circumstances change.
The image that accompanies this reflection is of Vincent sending forth Philippe Le Vacher to Algiers to continue an ongoing ministry to prisoners. Around 1652, Vincent wrote Philippe with some encouragement and advice concerning his ministry. In this letter Vincent advised his confrere to use a different approach, and said “it is not light they need but strength, and strength permeates through the external balm of words and good example.”1 Vincent suggested that Philippe not preach to the prisoners as he would the people in a countryside parish, but that he adjust his method and message in light of the realities of the population he served. Further, Vincent emphasized speaking kindly and performing good deeds. He believed that treating these prisoners humanely and building relationships was the key to supporting them in their challenges.
As our personal and professional lives continue to be disrupted, how are you adapting and adjusting to our evolving reality? If Vincent de Paul were writing a letter to you today, what advice would he give you on how to change your current messaging and behaviors to better serve students, colleagues, or others in our community who need support? How can you continue to put relationships at the center of your life as you adapt to new circumstances?
1) 1297, To Philippe Le Vacher, In Algiers, [1652], CCD, 4:127.
The DePaul University Vincentian Studies Institute in the Division of Mission & Ministry is pleased to announce the online publication of four volumes of additional Vincent de Paul texts. These supplement the fourteen volumes of Correspondence, Conferences, and Documents of Saint Vincent de Paul, published in French a century ago by Pierre Coste, C.M. The translator and editor of these new works is John E. Rybolt, C.M.
These fully searchable, free to download pdf e-Books offer more than 650 additional texts compiled by Fr. Rybolt since the final translated volume of Coste’s collection of Vincent’s writings was published in 2014. They represent over 4,000 pages of letters, conferences, and documents which are largely unknown, at least in translation. Gathered over several years thanks to the contributions of many scholars, they appear here in their original languages of French, Latin, and Italian, followed by an English translation.
The four new volumes comprise one each of correspondence and conferences, and two volumes of documents. The Vincentian Studies Institute presents them as an open-ended collection, allowing for additional texts to be added as they come to light, as well as corrections and updates. Finally, it is anticipated that translations of these new materials will become available in other languages and thus further facilitate their use throughout the worldwide Vincentian Family.
We are making these new texts available to download for free on Via Sapientiae, the institutional repository of DePaul University. This repository hosts a wide variety of the V.S.I.’s publications and collected works and is utilized by thousands of scholars and interested readers worldwide each year. Click through to access each new volume of the collection:
“Virtue is so beautiful and amiable that they will be compelled to love it in you, if you practice it well.”1
In the remarkable short letter from which this quote was taken, Vincent responds to news that several of the missionaries would be travelling on a ship with “some heretics.” After briefly expressing his distress at what they may have to “endure from them,” Vincent spends the rest of the letter reminding them that this is God’s plan. He encourages them to use their best manners and “be careful to avoid every sort of dispute and contention.”2 Vincent expresses hope that an example of beautiful character will be “helpful” to all.
Muslims are now entering into the final week of the observance of Ramadan. Ramadan is normally a month filled with fasting, prayer, and charity; it has been this year as well, although in all other ways it has been different with mosques closed and social activity curtailed by the pandemic. In a traditional saying of the Prophet Muhammad (which he sources to John the Baptist) it is said, “the similitude of the fasting person is that of someone who is carrying a sack-full of musk in a crowd of people—all of them marveling at its fragrance (although they can’t see what has created it).”3
The experience of long days of fasting and nights of sporadic sleep risks making one impatient or hard to be around. However, we find that when undertaken with intention and perseverance, a connection to a higher purpose along with increased gratitude and vulnerability reveals a beauty in the fasting person that is attractive to those around them even if they don’t know the source of it. Such a state also increases generosity that rains upon us all, even upon those who may be seen as heretics in a particular time or place.
During times of difficulty and anxiety like those we are living now, it is tempting to be less patient, less compassionate, more selfish, or even divisive with each other, particularly with those who hold differing worldviews.
What are some practices or exercises you can engage in to remain grounded in a sense of higher purpose? Is there a foundational belief or perspective which enables virtue to emanate from you, such that its beauty and fragrance is enjoyed by and helpful to all whom you encounter?
1) 3032, To Philippe Patte, In Nantes, [November or December 1659], CCD, 8:209.
2) Ibid.
3) Jami at-Tirmidhi, Kitab al-Amthal (Chapter of Parables), Book 44, Hadith 3102. See: http://sunnah.com/urn/630960
Reflection by:
Abdul-Malik Ryan
Assistant Director and Muslim Chaplain
Religious Diversity and Pastoral Care
Division of Mission and Ministry
You will attain this happiness if you practice faithfully humility, gentleness, and charity toward the poor…1
Vincent de Paul remembered the moment captured in the featured illustration as pivotal for him in transforming his sense of mission and vocation. The sacred dignity of this poor, dying peasant became evident to him. With Madame de Gondi’s help, Vincent came to realize there were many people like this who lacked vital spiritual and physical care, and that existing systems within both the Church and society routinely neglected their needs.
Over time, Vincent de Paul grew to be consistent in living the mission he professed. He encouraged his companions to look at reality through the perspective of those enduring poverty, those who suffered basic needs, or those who were routinely left out by the status quo of church, state, and society at the time. He would ask his community, in essence: What do these people need and how do our actions and decisions impact them? How can our resources be used to better serve them? Vincent further recognized the importance of forming leaders who shared his vision and were committed to this sense of mission. He envisioned a community of solidarity that surrounded and supported people in need, and in so doing, enabled all to flourish.
Compassion and care for those struggling with the effects of material and systemic poverty is essential to a Vincentian perspective. Their realities make a claim on us, inviting us to take action. They call us to make changes individually and collectively to address their immediate needs, as well as to confront the root causes of their suffering. This is what we are challenged to do when asking ourselves what has come to be known as the Vincentian question: “What must be done?”
The COVID-19 crisis and its aftermath have required us to make difficult decisions about what we value, as well as the vision we will pursue, both individually and collectively. Vincent’s example invites us to center the perspective of those in poverty, or of those suffering or in pain, and to care for them. Currently, this includes those facing the horrible effects of COVID-19, those who have died, those who have lost loved ones, or those struggling because of unemployment. Vincent’s vision ensures that all people experience a sense of human community and that they are given both the opportunities and resources necessary to flourish. For Vincent, safeguarding hope for those left behind or forgotten by society, especially those in dire conditions, was a necessary part of working for the good of all humanity.
How might “seeing with Vincentian eyes” shape our vision for how to respond to the current crisis? For the education we offer? For the way we go about business as a university? What does it invite you to consider in your work as a colleague, or in your role as a neighbor, citizen, or family member?
12787, To Sister Françoise Ménage, In Nantes, 12 February 1659, CCD, 7:471.
Reflection by:
Mark Laboe
Associate Vice President
Faculty and Staff Engagement
Division of Mission and Ministry
By
Minister Jené Colvin
Religious Diversity & Pastoral Care Team
Division of Mission & Ministry
You ever say a word enough times or write it enough times that it doesn’t seem like a word anymore? (It’s called semantic satiation by the way. My spouse told me. It helps to be married to someone as nerdy as you are.) Then there are the times we use a term or concept so broadly and so sweepingly that it loses its weight and true meaning. “Community” can sometimes be one of those words. “Systems” sometimes loses its impact because we treat it like salt, instead of the right herb or spice for the conversation. This is all just leading up to one big disclaimer: I’m going to use these terms, but I actually mean them.
Today, we are reflecting on Saint Louise’s lifetime of work to create and change systems for the improvement of people’s lives. Today’s theme is “sustained” because we wanted to talk about how Louise was able to remain dedicated to transforming the world. I had a whole reflection written out about how social justice and self-care are not a dichotomy (don’t worry, I’ll still get into that a little bit). And then I re-read today’s quote from Louise: “The greater the work, the more important it is to establish it on a solid foundation. Thus, it will not only be more perfect, it will also be more lasting.”
I am convinced that the foundation is people.
Even when we acknowledge that taking care of ourselves can often be a matter of access and social-systemic bias rather than individual discipline, we are still left with the question of “how?” How in the world do I keep trying to change the world and not burn out before I am halfway through my life? In everything good we try to do, people are our greatest asset.
Two weeks ago, I attended a virtual birthday party for one of my best friends. Her partner wanted to make sure she was celebrated in a way she truly deserved, despite the fact that we couldn’t gather in person. But, right on brand for her, she spent time during her own birthday party elevating the work her friends were doing. She said, “Everything you need is in this [room]!” Finally, she made sure we had everyone’s receipts and contact information before we all left that virtual space. Jade T. Perry is one of my people. And I am sustained by her.
Even though we’re not in the office, I’ve knocked on my co-workers’ virtual doors for ideas, advice, and help in processing things more times than I can count. There are more than twenty-five faithful, praying, laughter-filled, loving, snack-, resource-, and time-sharing people in Mission and Ministry. They are my people. I am sustained by them.
When I was in high school, my sisters and I started throwing gumbo parties. Everyone would bring one or two ingredients. We all ate, and no one had to break the bank. It’s a practice I’ve repeated over the years. No one judges what someone else chooses to purchase from the list, and everyone eats until they are full. Our friends are always our family, our people. And we have been sustained by them over and over again.
Min. Candace Simpson has a vision she calls “Fish Sandwich Heaven.” It’s a play on the miracle where Jesus feeds the multitude with a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish from a little boy in that multitude. In her sermon, A Packed Lunch, she helps us imagine how much can be done when people are generous with their “extra bread.” She is one of my people. And I am sustained by her.
When I thought my life was unraveling beyond repair, that I couldn’t come close to doing what I felt like I was supposed to in life—basically when I was Louise right before the lumière kicked in—people were present with me through it, and people helped me to the next stage. Community has sustained me.
The best work we do is not when we pour out of ourselves until we are empty or until we are dead. Our best work happens in community, where there is reciprocity and a consensual exchange of resources, ideas, and love. Our best work happens when we believe there is actually enough. There is enough time. There is enough for everyone to have what they need. There is enough sun to shine on all of us. There is enough trust and enough stage and enough accolade. There is enough to barter. There is enough to give some away. There is enough help. There is enough opportunity. That is, if we trust that people are our greatest asset: people who share and are shared with.
Every creative way around oppressive systems is found in the connections formed and strengthened between people. It’s the very reason so many systems that we have to fight in the first place stratify or separate us from each other or force us back together without realizing that unity is not sameness.
Saint Louise is heralded as the patron saint of social workers. Social work is a wide-ranging field that addresses everything from the most basic of human needs to advocacy for policy that supports the improvement of our living conditions. More often than not, it’s done by sustaining and improving our connections to each other and the resources we share with each other.
Some of the best wisdom from Saint Louise comes from the letters she wrote to people she was connected to and cared about or who cared about her: her community. Communities are systems. They are not inherently good or bad. Good ones, though, are absolutely necessary and foundational to our work to both impact the world and survive it. Communities can be spaces for creativity and for minding the gaps harmful systems create. Communities can be where people find sustainable care when individual actions and consumption are not enough. See, I told you I’d get around to self-care and social justice.
Conversations about sustaining our ability to engage with and change society very often (and rightly) include conversations about our wellness. This always reminds me of three things: 1) The Audre Lorde quote, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare”; 2) The Nap Ministry’s quote “Justice looks like a place to rest”; and 3) Deanna Zandt’s comic about self-soothing, self-care, community care, and structural care.
May you, as I believe Louise did, find good people for a just, solid, and long-lasting foundation for transforming our world.
By
Joyana Jacoby Dvorak
Associate Director Vincentian Service & Formation Team
Division of Mission & Ministry
All I really wanted to do was go dig for worms with my kids. I couldn’t tolerate having another Zoom meeting, creating another VoiceThread presentation, or developing a new virtual event. During a Zoom session with my class, my two-year-old spilled smoothie all over both of us. Yup. This is life right now—real messy! I’d hit my coronavirus wall. I had fallen into a pattern of pretending that I could still carry on with life and work as usual, even though I am now a kindergarten teacher, daycare provider, remote staff and faculty member experiencing my first-ever pandemic.
I found myself especially uninspired to envision an important project—you guessed it—Louise Week 2020! A few weeks ago, I was excited to elevate Louise’s celebration, something that is long overdue. In the midst of being overwhelmed by all things coronavirus, I found myself suddenly paralyzed by old scripts that “it wouldn’t be good enough” to honor the legacy of a woman who has shaped my Vincentian heart so profoundly.
So, I went and dug for worms and then I did something that is really hard for me to do. I put out a plea for help. I got Louise de Marillac’s biggest fans together on Microsoft Teams! Over the course of an hour we laughed, cried, clapped, cheered, and we all pulled out our personal copies of the Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac. (Yes, we literally grabbed that book from our shelves before leaving DePaul for quarantine!)
We told 400-year-old stories of Louise that resonated deeply with our current struggle. Louise knew what it was like to live through plagues. Her charisma was born from overcoming her struggles. I forgot that we were connecting over Microsoft Teams and felt real connection. We began to remember the best of who we are, and in so doing, we began to honor our dear Louise. I remembered the power of a small group of women. I began to feel I could carry on.
Louise de Marillac was a woman who empowered other women. She formed a community out of the poorest of the poor, creating home for them. She invited young peasant women from rural France into her personal space. She saw their potential, taught them to read and write, and equipped them to make change in their communities. This kind of hospitality was unprecedented during her time, and because of the community she formed, she created whole new opportunities that had never existed for women in society at the time.
Louise knew community was the only way forward. Her final spiritual testament reminds the Daughters of Charity to “live together in great union and cordiality.” She tells her sisters often to “encourage one another.” The word encourage comes from the Old French encoragier—“make strong, hearten.” It means “to inspire with courage, spirit, hope.” Louise knew what she was asking her community to do was not easy and that they would need each other and courage in their hearts.
Now more than ever, I count on my sacred circles of women, my mama tribes, my colleagues, and my students to encourage me. I need them to remind me that it’s ok to not be ok, that my best is going to look different now, that I am enough, that I am loved even when I’m a mess. Sometimes these messages even come in virtual post-it notes from authors like Brené Brown, who reminds us: “Hitting the wall is real. Hard days suck. There is nothing wrong with us. We’re going to be ok.” Today, the best way to honor Louise is to do what she did 400 years ago—put courage into one another’s hearts and remember we have each other!
By
Emily LaHood-Olsen
Vincentian Service & Formation Team
Division of Mission & Ministry
When my daughter gets older and asks me to recount life in a time of COVID-19, I will tell her about the day last week when we played in the courtyard in front of our building. Every time a neighbor walked outside, she would pick a dandelion, run toward them saying, “Hi!” and try to hand them the flower. All the while, I gently held her back. I will share my fear that social distancing would severely impact her development—that it would teach her to fear the close contact of others or make her too dependent on screens for social interaction, that it might create a stunted understanding of community.
I will share with her the frustration and anger that bubbled up in the face of social inequity, the disregard of science and human life, the apparent inability to mobilize to get safety equipment to grocery store workers, public transit drivers, medical professionals, and hospital janitorial staff.
I will tell her that the word COVID, in a word, was resilience.
When all this began, I prepared myself for the trauma of these times. I expected to be inundated with news of COVID-related tragedy and prepared my spirit accordingly. What I did not expect was to grieve a perfectly normal, non-COVID death. Five weeks into quarantine, my father-in-law died from undetected bone cancer.
Since then, my husband and I have been navigating a complex, confusing state of mourning. We cannot fly to Washington to be with family or ritualize his passing. We cannot gather in person with our community to receive hugs or share memories. We cannot ask friends to babysit our little one so that we can take some time to simply be sad with one another. The lakefront, our church, and the coffee shop that brings us comfort down the street are all closed; and, we are living each day within the walls that carry our grief.
The plans we made to face the unknown at the onset of shelter-in-place are now completely out the window. We are learning a new kind of resilience.
This experience has prompted me to think about Louise and her journey. Louise experienced an incredible amount of grief and disappointment throughout her life. She was rejected by her family, deprived of her education when her father died, and denied her dream to become a Dominican nun. Although she felt marriage was not her calling, she entered into an arranged marriage. Her son had developmental issues that she did not have the resources to understand. Her husband grew incredibly ill, and she cared for him through his death.
Nothing in Louise’s early life went the way she planned; and yet, she remained resilient. This resilience equipped her to shatter the barriers that blocked her path.
Louise saw the needs of the world and responded in radically creative ways. In a society that offered only two options for women—marriage or cloistered religious life—Louise forged a new way. The Daughters of Charity were the first religious women to be out in the world, unconfined by convent walls, serving people on the streets. Oral history tells us that Louise “misplaced” the letter from the Vatican mandating that the Daughters should be a cloistered order.
Seeing that the Vincentian family understood the reality of those who were poor and marginalized, Louise bucked tradition and had the Daughters make their vows to the Vincentians, not to the Vatican. To this day, instead of making lifelong vows Daughters renew theirs annually.
In the face of a broken class system, Louise welcomed women from peasant families into her home, taught them how to read, and recognized the gifts that they could offer the community. This was unheard of for a woman of social class and means.
Louise’s faith and creativity made her open to new possibilities.
We are all learning new ways to foster resilience. Whether coping with feelings of isolation or weathering economic hardship or grieving the illness or death of a loved one, we’re forced to remind ourselves day after day that we can do hard things. And within these hard things, there is an opportunity to vision a world that has never existed before.
When this time of pandemic is over, our call as Vincentians will not be to return to life as usual. It will be to build the world we dream is possible.
A world that values people over profits and sees healthcare as an essential human right.
A world committed to healing our ailing planet instead of returning to fossil fuel dependence.
A world where neighbors delight in one another’s presence and know each other’s names.
In the midst of the unknown, we all have an opportunity to tap into our inner Louise, to build a sense of resilient creativity. Let us dream of the way the world could be, and give those dreams life in the face of hard times.
“There is no act of charity that is not accompanied by justice…”1
