The Essential Ingredient

DePaul University’s St. Vincent’s Circle celebrates its 20th anniversary October, 2015, since its dedication in 1995. (DePaul University/Josh Woo)

What does it mean for our beloved Vincentian mission to be integrated effectively into the daily life and work of the university community, in and out of the classroom?

This question is often top of mind for those of us working in Mission and Ministry and for many leaders for mission across the institution. Collectively, we hope that tangible evidence of our mission is woven regularly into the fabric and culture of all that happens at DePaul. Into the workplace environment. Into the classroom and the student experience. Into how decisions are made. Into plans for the future. Into how we evaluate our efforts and programs. In the way we frame our daily work as part of something bigger than ourselves. At DePaul, our mission is the essential ingredient mixed into all we do and create.

One theologian used the metaphor of yeast to describe the integration and flourishing of mission within Catholic universities in a pluralistic context. [1]  Another metaphor often referenced in the world of Catholic theology is that of seeds already present in different contexts and cultures, needing only to be nurtured to flourish. [2] You may recall a somewhat recent campaign we did at DePaul called “Seeds of the Mission,” which built on this idea. Both metaphors help us to recognize the ways in which our Catholic Vincentian mission is already present and has opportunities to grow and be deepened among us and in our shared work.

But what does mission integration mean?

As we reflect on our work in light of the ongoing responsibility to understand more about DePaul’s stated mission and its deeper Vincentian roots, a shorthand construct and starting point emerge from the recognition that our mission is relevant in several different ways:

Why? What is motivating and orienting our actions and choices? How do they reflect our fundamental purpose and deeper sense of vocation, individually and collectively, to contribute to a more just and compassionate society?

What? How do the choices we make about what we do or how we spend our time and resources reflect consideration of our mission? How do we include care and concern for those who are marginalized?

How? How does the way we do what we do reflect the personalism, professionalism, and institutional values that we have come to understand as essential to the Vincentian way?

Who? How do I understand my own unique vocation as a person, an educator, a professional, or a leader and how does this frame my specific work and role? And, how do those we include and invite reflect the rich diversity of our human community? Are we paying attention to equity, to who is “at the table,” and to those who may be excluded?

Of course, even responding to these questions and different dimensions of mission integration requires additional considerations if we are to move toward concrete action. This is the careful discernment and collective wisdom that precedes action and that we have reclaimed again recently as Vincentian Pragmatism, which is qualitatively different from “just do it.”

The vital work of mission integration requires intentionality and care on the part of everyone at DePaul. The distinctiveness and foundational spirit of our mission are sustained only when it is thoughtfully and habitually part of our daily actions and choices and the way we function together as a human community, whether that be facilitating programs for students, teaching, leading teams of people, making budget decisions, doing research, or relating to one another. Each of these actions can reflect the underlying spirit we have come to identify as characteristically Vincentian, infusing our DePaul community and the work we do with a deeper sense of purpose and what many of us deem a sacred dimension.

Reflection Questions:

Which of the mission integration questions or dimensions (why, what, how, and who) do you most easily answer in relation to how mission is relevant to your life and work at DePaul? Which is most difficult to answer and why?

What ideas do you have for further integrating or sustaining Vincentian mission in your own area of work or within the university community?


Reflection by: Mark Laboe, Interim VP for Mission and Ministry

[1] Walter Ong, SJ, “Yeast,” America April 7, 1990. Reprinted and available here: https://‌‌www.bc.edu/content/dam/files/offices/mission/pdf1/cu13.pdf. 

[2] The image of the “seeds of the Word” is used by Saint Justin Martyr in the second century and is highlighted often in the field of Catholic missiology. One helpful summary of this idea, framed by a larger conversation about the importance of interreligious dialogue, is written by one of the leading Catholic theologians in this field, Stephen Bevans, SVD. See his “Practices of Mission: Interreligious and Secular Dialogue,” convocation speech, 2013 Missional Church Convocation, July 2013, Chicago, IL, https://‌‌centerforparishdevelopment.wordpress.com/2013/11/11/interreligious/.

 

Understanding the Vincentian Heart

Some years ago, colleagues from Mission and Ministry and many other areas developed an initiative called Explore Your Purpose at DePaul University (EYP). This initiative is for all members of the university community to foster their sense of personal meaning and social purpose as part of the educational environment at DePaul.[1] While I wasn’t part of the initial group that created EYP, I participated in ongoing conversations on how to engage students, faculty, and staff around its four Enduring Understandings and have used its resources with students.

Each winter quarter, during a retreat with scholars in the Division of Mission and Ministry, I ask students to contemplate their DePaul experience. Using the lens of these Enduring Understandings, and depending on their class year, they might ponder living a meaningful life, discerning vocation, understanding the Vincentian heart, or sustaining the journey.[2]

This past January, I asked some DMM colleagues to join me and share a story or experience from their life in conjunction with one of the Enduring Understandings. My hope was that our sharing would help the students to feel more comfortable with the topics and lead them to deeper reflection during this part of the retreat. I spoke about understanding the Vincentian heart and shared, briefly, my experience as a student at Columbine High School on April 20, 1999, when the then-worst high school shooting in U.S. history happened, and how that day shaped and formed me and led me to my path at DePaul.

I told them that as I struggled to process the complex emotions involved in experiencing significant trauma, I discovered the joy in helping others as so many had helped my community. I spoke about how, in my current role, I get to connect service-minded students to experiences that help their communities. In other words, I have the opportunity to walk with students as they work to understand their Vincentian hearts, spending time with them on their journeys and witnessing the amazing ways they look at the world and say, “I think we can do better.”

The astute reader of this blog might recall that I wrote on this very topic for a Mission Monday entry a few years ago. You might wonder why I’m bringing it up again. This event is an integral part of who I am, and it’s important not to forget this tragedy. As I write this reflection, the twenty-fifth anniversary of that tragic day is still a week away. When you read this, that day will have just gone by. I haven’t always been able to share about this part of my story, but I’ve learned there is a certain power that comes in naming that I lived through this experience and that it has shaped me—positively and negatively. I’ve also learned that it’s important for me personally to name that I am a survivor of gun violence. Sharing about this part of myself in a public setting isn’t easy for me, but when I do so, I am sharing from a specific understanding of my Vincentian heart.

My Vincentian heart is continuously being molded by all aspects of my life. Every year it is impacted by the students on the Vincentian Service Day Team in the Division of Mission and Ministry and the amazing work they do on this event. I’m not sure the students would articulate their work in this way, but they demonstrate an understanding of their Vincentian hearts every time they plan the DePaul tradition that is Vincentian Service Day (VSD). From the way they brainstorm about engaging more members of the DePaul community in VSD, to the ways they interact with community partners and DePaul partners during the planning process, to the way they interact with each other, they work with a sense of thoughtfulness and intentionality. They continually push me, and each other, to create a VSD that is representative of our Vincentian mission. In working on this tradition for the DePaul community, they create a space where everyone who participates can connect to understanding their Vincentian hearts through an experience of service.

Who or what has shaped and molded your Vincentian heart?

I invite you to join the DePaul community for Vincentian Service Day on Saturday, May 4. Registration closes on Wednesday May 1 at 11:59 AM. For more information about participating in VSD, visit: http://serviceday.depaul.edu; or email: serviceday@depaul.edu.


Reflection by: Katie Sullivan, Program Manager, Vincentian Service and Formation Office, Division of Mission and Ministry

[1] For more, see: Explore Your Purpose at DePaul.

[2] For more, see: Explore Your Purpose at DePaul University: Enduring Understandings and Learning Outcomes.

Organizational Renewal and Collective Cultivation

When I left home for college, I had not yet come to appreciate the changing seasons of my rural Connecticut childhood. It would be decades before I was again able to experience a four-season climate. After twenty-plus years in Florida and stops in Texas and California, my partner and I arrived in Pennsylvania, where we were greeted by long winters and the life-affirming color of flowering plants and trees upon the arrival of spring: forsythia, tulips, crocuses, magnolias, and daffodils. By the time we moved to Chicago (and DePaul) in 2012, we had grown quite fond of the changing seasons. Planning and cultivating a garden meant a commitment to hard work, communication, patience, and reward.

We seek such meaning in our lives. And it is sometimes our setbacks—in relationships, in health, in our careers—that call out for renewal. However one finds a source for renewal, one hopes for a spark that might revitalize. When that spark ignites, it can feel like Wordsworth’s daffodils, “fluttering and dancing in the breeze.”[1] Whether embodied by the Easter holiday or the seemingly sudden appearance of brightly colored flowers, spring signals new beginnings, hope, and renewal.

Here we are again in the midst of change. I refer not just to the arrival of spring but also the significant work going on right now on this campus to implement Designing DePaul. I was fortunate to be in the audience for President Manuel’s inauguration speech in November 2022, when he previewed the work that so many in the DePaul community have contributed to. He emboldened those of us in attendance when he said, “We must live up to Saint Vincent and Saint Louise’s standards by being people of action and reflection—not only seeing the dignity of each individual, but also seeing their potential and creating the change that cures.”[2] The change that cures. As a health communication researcher, I am entranced by the word “cure.” Etymologically, the verb form of “cure” stems from the Latin curare, which means “to take care of.” In this sense, we also cure food for preservation. The noun form—cura—is drawn from the same Latin root and is both “a means of healing” and, when accented, “a parish priest in France” and “one responsible for the care of souls”—curé.

As Designing DePaul matures from vision to implementation, our community will recognize how the learning organization is one that is always open to possibility and continuous change. Systems strive for, but never achieve, equilibrium. The change that cures is an organizational mindset that encourages its stakeholders to respond to—indeed, to preserve—the inevitability of perpetual change.

How can we become a community that learns and grows together?

As faculty and staff at DePaul University, we embrace the duty of care we have for our students in fulfillment of our Vincentian mission. In the College of Communication, a small group of us has developed a course, Communication Fundamentals for College Success, to help students become more engaged in their learning, develop a growth mindset, and identify campus resources that can aid them. This collective effort was inspired by significant changes we recognized in our students as they emerged from two years of less-than-ideal learning environments during the pandemic. As committed faculty, we recognized a need, worked together, and made something new for the benefit of our students as well as for each other in our small learning collective.

In her Spiritual Writings, Saint Louise remarks on the work involved in establishing the Daughters of Charity and, in so doing, offers a philosophy for all collaborative work. She writes, “I must make good use of the advice which has been given to me concerning the distinctions which appear among persons working together for the same goal, who have similar and nearly equal responsibilities for its outcome.”[3] Margaret Posig draws connections between Saint Vincent’s change efforts and those of John Kotter, an organizational change scholar. As Posig explains, Saint Vincent and Saint Louise communicated their vision via storytelling in letters, newspapers, and brief memos—all the means of connection at their disposal.[4] Margaret Kelly notes the energy Saint Louise exerted in maintaining her correspondence with Saint Vincent as well as recording her private thoughts.[5] In her writing, she expresses joy and devotion but also her uncertainty, apprehension, and confusion. Arguably, Saint Louise was successful because she embraced humility and patience.[6] Deep learning emerges from an almost childlike curiosity of what can happen when we are both motivated for change—for renewal—and humbled by how much we can learn together.

Questions for Reflection:

To revitalize our work in service of the Vincentian mission and Designing DePaul, how can we inspire conversations that acknowledge both uncertainty and joy? In our various enterprises both within and beyond our professional units, how can we encourage curiosity and humility in the service of change that cures?

“Saint Vincent de Paul as a Leader of Change: The Key Roles of A higher” by Margaret Posig Ph.D.


Reflection by: Jay Baglia, Associate Professor, Health Communication, College of Communication

[1] William Wordsworth, “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud,” Poetry Foundation, accessed April 11, 2024, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45521/i-wandered-lonely-as-a-cloud.

[2] Rob Manuel, “Inauguration 2022,” DePaul University, November 11, 2022, https://‌offices.‌depaul.‌edu/‌president/‌notes-from-rob/2022-2023/Pages/inauguration-2022.aspx.

[3] Document A. 12, “(Renunciation of Self),” (c. 1633) in Louise Sullivan, D.C., ed. and trans., Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac: Correspondence and Thoughts (New York: New City Press, 1991). Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/ldm/.

[4] See Margaret Posig, PhD, “Saint Vincent de Paul as a Leader of Change: The Key Roles of A higher Purpose and Empowerment,” Vincentian Heritage 26:1 (2005), pp. 27-41, at: https://‌‌via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol26/iss1/4.

[5] Margaret J. Kelly, D.C., “The Relationship of Saint Vincent and Saint Louise from Her Perspective,” Vincentian Heritage 11:1 (1990), pp. 77-114, at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol11/iss1/6.

[6] Louise Sullivan, D.C., “Louise de Marillac: A Spiritual Portrait,” in Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac: Rules, Conferences, and Writings, ed. F. Ryan and J. Rybolt (New York: Paulist Press, 1995), 39-64.

Showing up in a Time of Digital Distance

As has been the case during many former Lenten seasons, this year several groups of DePaul faculty and staff met on Zoom during a six-week period to participate in faith-sharing groups. Even though many of the group members had never before met, their time invited them to get to know colleagues on a much deeper level than activities of the workplace typically allow. During these sessions, we shared about the events of our lives in light of our faith commitments, and we prayed together as a community gathered together for the sake of a rich mission. While we may have started out as strangers, we soon became spiritual companions who travelled together on a unique journey, opening up about our lives and supporting each other during an intimate and sacred moment in time.

In many ways, this simple commitment to meet together and to share honestly aligned with the invocation of Saint Vincent, centuries before, to model truthful simplicity. Writing to a fellow priest, Vincent had implored, “Have the simplicity of a dove. This means giving a straightforward opinion about things in the way we honestly see them, without needless reservations. It also means doing things without any double-dealing or manipulation, our intention being focused solely on God.”[1] After all, “everyone loves simple, candid people, who don’t use subtleties or tricks, who are straightforward and speak sincerely, with the result that whatever they say comes from their heart.… they’re respected … esteemed by all.[2]

Last week’s Mission Monday invited us to reflect on our human need to be in community and to feel cared for in good times and in bad. As I reflect upon what happened for me this Lenten season, our faith-sharing groups made manifest the best of “Take Care DePaul.” We showed up for one another. We listened and supported each other. At times, we gently challenged each other. We shared our truths, and we made meaning together. We trusted one another. And, if members couldn’t attend, we prayed for them and for the larger DePaul community. It was a form of spiritual accompaniment, a way of reminding each other that we matter, and the events of our lives matter. In a world that is so often defined by digital distance, this weekly coming together reminded us that we were not alone.

At its best, DePaul is a community that cares, and caring for the other is an integral part of working at a Vincentian university. Moreover, it is part of what it means to be human and is essential for human flourishing.

There are many experiences that may represent for us the best of DePaul. In the midst of the winter quarter, these groups were just one small manifestation of such an experience. They offered an opportunity to come together and listen to each other in a supportive environment of peers. This meant that for just a brief moment in time, we were able to share what was in our hearts and feel heard. It offered an opportunity to care and, in a spirit of mutuality, to experience being cared for by trusted peers. Engaging in such meaningful experiences has the potential to remind us that another world is possible, a world that is more caring and compassionate, in which all may thrive.

Reflection Questions

How might you/we create more experiences with colleagues that allow for deeper interpersonal sharing, support, and connection?

Think of a moment when you felt you were particularly well cared for at DePaul. Who showed up for you at that time? How have you paid this moment forward? What did that feel like?

Recall a time when you spoke the truth in the face of your own fears. What do you remember of this moment? What did you learn from it?


Reflection by: Siobhan O’Donoghue, PhD, Director of Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry

[1] Constitutions and Statutes of the Congregation of the Mission, English trans. (Rome: General Curia of the Congregation of the Mission, 1989), 109.

[2] Pierre Coste, C.M., ed., Vincent de Paul: Correspondence, Conferences, Documents, ed. and trans. Jacqueline Kilar, D.C. et al., 14 vols. (New York: New City Press, 1985-2008), 12:142.

What Must Be Done to Renew the DePaul Community?

This past Saturday evening, millions of Christians around the world attended the Easter Vigil, the most important liturgy (or religious worship) of the year. With dramatic use of fire and water, prayer and readings, song and silence, the Easter Vigil celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ and welcomes new members into the Christian faith. A peak moment that combines these elements during the Vigil is the rite of baptism for adults being initiated into the Church. After months of preparation, those seeking baptism are brought before the assembly. They are invited to renounce sin and profess their faith and then are immersed in the holy waters of baptism, symbolizing cleansing and new life.

Just before this solemn ritual takes place, there is a moment during which the priest leads the worshippers in a unique prayer called the Litany of the Saints. With roots dating back to the founding of Christianity, the Litany of the Saints invokes the aid of those who came before us—angels, saints, and martyrs—to pray for and watch over those of us who are gathered. We are joined with this Communion of Saints through prayer and shared faith. We are in spiritual relationship with them as they give us support and guidance to continue our journeys of faith. The Litany of the Saints is a timeless reminder of our desire for community and connection. It encapsulates the human need for relationships, spiritual and otherwise, that provide care and witness in our lives.

Our need to be in community and relationships, to feel that we are cared for and valued, in good times and in bad, is basic and intrinsic. It is part of what motivates people to join faith communities, as witnessed at the Easter Vigil. Our churches, mosques, synagogues, and other social organizations help meet this need for community. So, too, do our schools, workplaces, and communities. At the most fundamental level, our families and friends are witnesses to our lives whose love and acceptance is enduring, even during periods of struggle and disappointment. As shown throughout human history and within our own personal experience, relationships matter. When healthy relationships abound in our lives, we flourish. When they are lacking, we decline.

This belief in the power of relationships is one that no less a person than the surgeon general of the United States, Dr. Vivek Murthy, endorses. Last year, Murthy issued an advisory calling for all Americans to pay attention to the urgent public health issues of loneliness and isolation that he asserted has reached epidemic levels.[1] In part the result of decades of slowly declining social connectedness as well as the isolating impact of the Covid pandemic, Murthy found that Americans spend more time on the internet and less time with others. They feel less connected with their communities and more alone than ever before. In direct terms, the surgeon general wrote of the importance of rebuilding trust, empathy, and a sense of belonging to help nurture social connections in the face of this growing feeling of isolation.

Despite the vast difference in circumstances between their time and ours, Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac understood this basic human need for community and a feeling of connection. At the heart of the service to which Vincent and Louise gave their lives was devotion to those who were abandoned by others,[2] who were the least visible and most marginalized in society. At the same time, in forming faith-based organizations of service such as the Congregation of the Mission and the Daughters of Charity, Vincent and Louise placed great importance on their followers living in community and serving shoulder to shoulder with each other. They saw these community relationships as providing both an edifying[3] as well as practical[4] benefit for the men and women who were the first Vincentian Family members.

Today, DePaul University members are just as in need of relationships and communities as were those early followers of Vincent and Louise. That need is even more apparent as our university community has been subjected to the same forces of changing social norms and the damages of Covid that have caused the broader social disconnect identified by the surgeon general. These realities present DePaul with challenges as great as those our university faces in the areas of enrollment, retention, consolidation, budgeting, and the like.

But, as in most things at DePaul, our strengths and advantages provide us with an abundance of resources needed to overcome these issues. First among our assets is our Vincentian, Catholic mission, which values the human being and the common good above all else. If all parts of the university reflect on how they are best guided to live by our mission, we will have ample protection against the forces that lead to disconnect. In addition, we have a history of being a strong and supportive community whose members have always been grateful to be in relationship with one another and to call DePaul home. Taken together, if today’s generation of talented students, staff, and faculty recognize and agree on the basic challenges that exist to our communities and relationships and then commit to operating within their spheres of influence to make a difference, we will succeed at renewing a vibrant, joy-filled, and supportive community at DePaul.

What might our committed response to these challenges look like? As a first step, it could simply be reaching out to a friend or colleague and scheduling a time to be together. Beyond that, you could join a group or go to an event that might allow you to develop your skills and meet new friends. At higher levels, university resources of money, energy, and attention could go toward supporting opportunities for community and relationship building so that members feel heard, valued, and supported. There are probably many other ways—modest or grand—that our DePaul community can reinvigorate our sense of belonging and connection and put the forces that contribute to loneliness at bay. It gives me, and I hope it gives you, real hope to imagine these possibilities!

Questions for Reflection:

How are you feeling about your relationships and community connections at DePaul? Who are people you can turn to when sharing a joy or a sorrow? Do you fill that role for others? How might you cultivate these relationships if they seem lacking?

Why not commit to doing something to help strengthen the bonds of community at DePaul? Could you reach out to a colleague and schedule a check-in? Attend an event or join an organization? Does anything else come to mind?

The Division of Mission and Ministry’s Faculty and Staff Engagement team would be delighted to visit with faculty and staff at DePaul at any time.


Reflection by: Tom Judge, Assistant Director and Chaplain, Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry

[1] U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, “Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation: The U.S. Surgeon General’s Advisory on the Healing Effects of Social Connection and Community,” 2023, at: https://www.hhs.gov/sites/default/files/surgeon-general-social-connection-advisory.pdf.

[2] Conference 164, “Love for the Poor,” January 1657, CCD 11:349: “Come then, my dear confreres, let us devote ourselves with renewed love to serve persons who are poor, and even to seek out those who are the poorest and most abandoned.” Available at: https://‌via.‌library.‌depaul.‌edu/‌vincentian_‌ebooks/‌37/.

[3] Conference 1, “Explanation of the Regulations,” July 31, 1634, CCD, 9:2: “What a blessing to be a member of a Community because each individual shares in the good that is done by all!” Available at: https://‌via.‌library.‌depaul.‌edu/‌‌‌vincentian_ebooks/34/.

[4] Letter 1857, “To Charles Ozenne, Superior, in Warsaw,” April 2, 1655, CCD, 5:349: “The … question is whether you can go alone to visit the sick in the parish. O Jesus, Monsieur, you must be very careful not to go alone! When the Son of God determined that the Apostles should go two by two, He doubtless foresaw the great evils of going alone. Now, who would want to depart from the custom He introduced among His own men and which is that of the Company, which, after His example, acts in this way?” Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/30/.

 

Seasons of Change

We are in a season of hope and promise here at DePaul. We recently experienced the first day of spring, a time which brings us the hope of renewed life and beauty after a sometimes-desolate winter. Students have come to the end of the quarter and are ready to enjoy spring break. We have a new basketball coach, and we are excited by the vision of a team that can unite and energize our whole community. We are in the season of Lent, a time in which Christians prepare themselves for change and refocus on what is important in preparation for Easter. We are in the month of Ramadan, where Muslims similarly embrace a period of intense spiritual practices in commemoration and gratitude for the gift of the Qur’an.

None of that means that our challenges have disappeared. Our world faces hunger, oppression, and war. Our city continues to struggle with caring for migrants and coping with violence. Individuals struggle with mental health issues, with financial challenges, with loneliness and anxiety. For those able to focus on politics, more uncertainty and anxiety can be found there. Many of us who are used to hearing and dealing with the challenges of higher education see greater challenges in our current environment than ever before. Yet, the renewal spring promises offers a chance for us to reflect.

The Muslim calendar is based on the moon. Muslims determine the start and end of Ramadan based upon its sighting. This provokes continuous debate in the community about what constitutes an accepted sighting, and the role astronomical calculations can or should play. But more importantly in this context, it has us looking to the heavens often around this time. The beauty and cycles of the moon, and many other signs of creation, can evoke feelings of wonder and mystery. In the Qur’an we are encouraged to read these signs as pointing to the Creator, while they also remind us of our kinship with others, especially those we may miss. Looking at the moon, we may think of how people on the other side of the world are seeing that same moon, or perhaps how those who have passed away used to look at that same moon as well.

What do spiritual practices such as Ramadan and Lent invite us to during a time like this? In his Lenten message this year, Pope Francis describes the spiritual practices of Lent as comprising “a single movement of openness and self-emptying, in which we cast out the idols that weigh us down, the attachments that imprison us.”[1] While we often find comfort in prayer or other acts of worship, Saint Vincent once said that “prayer is like a mirror in which the soul sees all its stains and disfigurements.”[2] Ramadan is a time in which fasting and increased worship at night empty us of the superficial distractions that often fill our attention and the small comforts we use to cover our feelings. In such times, we first encounter ourselves as we really are—our human vulnerabilities are undeniable, the tears flow for all the pain in ourselves and our world. But we are not left there … we also envision ourselves and our communities as they could be! We find places of connection with the Divine and with each other; places of radical hospitality and generosity; and places of repentance, forgiveness, and transformation. An imaginative vision of a better future fuels our work toward change and helps us persevere through the difficulties we encounter along the way.

For Reflection:

In what season do you find yourself, personally or in your work at DePaul? What are you learning about yourself in this season? What is the vision of the future that inspires hope and energy for transformation in you?


Reflection by: Abdul-Malik Ryan, Assistant Director, Religious Diversity and Pastoral Care. 

 

For more information on some of the diverse religious holidays being observed at DePaul this spring please visit https://blogs.depaul.edu/dmm/about/1098-2/spring-depauls-season-of-celebrating-religious-holidays/

[1] Message of the Holy Father Francis for Lent 2024, 01.02.2024, at: Through the Desert God Leads us to Freedom.

[2] Conference 37, Mental Prayer, 31 May 1648, CCD, 9:327. See: https://‌via.‌library.‌depaul.‌edu/‌vincentian_‌ebooks/‌34/.

What is Vincentian Pragmatism?

One of the core tenets of our current Designing DePaul framework is Institutional Effectiveness and Vincentian Pragmatism. As evidenced by the questions we have received in the Mission and Ministry office over the past several months, the concept of Vincentian pragmatism is still relatively new or unclear to the DePaul community, even though it leans heavily on what has been commonly assumed and repeated about our mission (and included on the pens we have given out for decades now)—that Vincent de Paul was “pragmatic.” Many seem instinctively to recognize that this concept of Vincentian pragmatism holds something important and proper to our mission, even if they don’t fully grasp what it means.

In terms of the origins of the concept, it seems to date back to a 2012 article by a former DePaul staff and faculty member, Scott Kelley, who identified Vincentian pragmatism as a method for systemic change.[1] For Kelley, this concept clearly drew heavily from the deep well of the 400-year Vincentian tradition and the life and work of our founder and namesake. He was keen to emphasize Vincentian pragmatism as an intentional method or process of discernment rather than a detailed roadmap to arrive at instant clarity about a decision or action.

In a message to the university community for Saint Vincent de Paul Heritage Week in September 2023, “St. Vincent’s Extraordinary Pragmatism,” President Rob Manuel further connected the concept of Vincentian pragmatism to the “essence of St. Vincent de Paul” and to our work of embracing his heritage and legacy through our work today, inviting us to focus on a “mission-centered horizon”; create people-centered approaches; and foster a communal sense of participation, collaboration and innovation.

Earlier in the spring of 2023, a group of faculty had focused on how Vincentian mission informs pedagogy by speaking of it as a way of living and learning in the communal context that reflected similar themes of centering on (mission-related) values; actively involving the collective wisdom of the community; and intentionally cultivating communities of care and inclusion in the creation of what they called “Designing DePaul with Heart.”

Over the past few months, we, the current Vincentian Mission Institute cohort group at DePaul University, have been furthering this concept. We have reviewed related writings and research in our online Vincentian Studies Institute resources and discussed together what a tangible and useful framework for Vincentian pragmatism might look like and mean for DePaul decision-makers and groups. While still in its evolution and development, this framework emphasizes careful attention to the discernment process leading up to decision and action. This includes:

  1. Making Space for Discernment: showing an intentionality and willingness to “see and reflect” with an honest acceptance of one’s reality and context and proceeding with a “holy indifference”[2] to the path forward. This discernment is born of reflective self-awareness (meditation and prayer) and radical openness (to the presence and movement of Providence).
  2. Dialoguing and Consulting: demonstrating a commitment to listen deeply and with humility, valuing people and their collaboration and input; to seek out the insights of “wise persons” and the wisdom of the broader community; and to consider the perspectives and needs of those who are most marginalized and disempowered.
  3. Deciding Responsibly: taking the time necessary to understand complexity, to evaluate pros and cons of possible actions, to interpret and think imaginatively, and to always consider the impact of any decision on those who are most marginalized and disempowered.
  4. Acting with Solidarity: having the courage to act, to adopt an orientation of service, to advocate creatively for those in need, and to consider sustainability and long-range impact, including bringing others into the work and support of the mission.

We look forward to continuing to develop this concept and to deepening understanding of what it means in practice, but what is clear from each of the above examples is that the adjective Vincentian placed before pragmatism is highly significant. In the United States, while we are clearly influenced by notions of pragmatism that are, at their best, also deliberate and reflective in nature, we are also prone to cultural understandings of the term that can simply reinforce a “just do it” approach that lacks the deeper spiritual roots and communal wisdom called for by the adjective Vincentian.

In the coming months, we will continue to design and move into our future together and to better understand and develop the concept and practice of Vincentian pragmatism in all its richness. In so doing, may we continue to seek to understand and discern together what the adjective Vincentian demands of us, so that we may honor and do justice to the extraordinary heritage and mission to which we are privileged to contribute our lives and work, as so many have before us.


Reflection by: Vincentian Mission Institute, DePaul Cohort 7

 

GianMario Besana

Stephanie Dance-Barnes

Mark Laboe

Lexa Murphy

DeWayne Peevy

Tatum Thomas

Lucy Rinehart

 

[1] Scott Kelley, Ph.D., “Vincentian Pragmatism: Toward a Method for Systemic Change,” Vincentian Heritage Journal 31:2 (2012): 41–63. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol31/iss2/2.

[2] For more on the meaning of this concept, see L.642, Louise de Marillac to Anne Hardemont, 20 December 1659, in Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac: Correspondence and Thoughts, ed. and trans. Louise Sullivan, D.C. (Brooklyn: New City Press, 1991), 660–661, at: Letters of 1659.

A Saint’s Fight with His Pillow and Other Challenges of Daily Life

I hate the daylight saving time change. I feel groggy and sleep-deprived for days after it happens. Around this change in the spring of 2016, I came across this exhortation from Vincent de Paul: “Don’t fight with your pillow … to see if you ought to get up.”[1] It’s difficult advice for me to follow in March, but the image struck me as so funny that I have remembered it all these years later. As I was looking for his exact quotation for this reflection, I found that he used it more than once, even with variations; “Believe me,” Vincent said as if he tried it, “there’s no use haggling with your pillow, for you won’t get the better of it.”[2] He noted that he often had trouble sleeping.[3] He and his followers were supposed to arise no later than 5:00 a.m., and Vincent told them to be “courageous in forming this habit.”[4] His choice of words suggests that this was not always an easy thing to do. (If it were, courage wouldn’t be required.) Here at DePaul University, where many of us teach or attend early morning classes, where staff may need to arrive early too, and where students may have late-night study sessions, we may particularly relate to difficulties with sleep.

Modern science tells us that it’s especially important to set a routine for sleep, going to bed and waking up at the same times. It also tells us that we should set a time for winding down at night, turning off our devices to read a book or meditate before sleep. Minus the part about devices, Vincent offered this same advice to his communities.[5] It, too, is easier said than done. I find unwinding hard. Whenever I try to meditate, I quickly lose my focus. Vincent acknowledged this challenge: “Perhaps you’ll tell me that you have so many things to think about that even when you’re praying you can’t spend a quarter of an hour without being distracted. Don’t be surprised at that; the greatest servants of God occasionally have these same difficulties.”[6]

If I were to offer a one-sentence summary of my thesis for this reflection, it might be something like “Saints—they’re just like us!” We often think of saints as serious people preoccupied with the big questions of life, people who were above our quotidian troubles. Certainly, Vincent did wrestle with big issues. But he was human. Knowing that he used humor and practical advice to address problems with sleep and mental focus makes it easier to relate to him. Relatability, in turn, leads to hope. If Vincent could rise above these things and accomplish so much, then maybe we can too.

Questions for reflection:

Regardless of the time change, millions of Americans have trouble with sleep deprivation. Are you one of them? Are there any lifestyle adjustments you could make that would help make your sleep better?

What do you know about Vincent that makes him relatable to you? Do these aspects inspire you to follow his example in larger ways?


Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

[1] Conference 102, “Order of Day (Arts. 1 and 2),” October 6, 1658, CCD, 10:455.

[2] See conference 23, “Holy Communion,” January 22, 1646, ibid., 9:188; and conference 35, “The Good Use of Admonitions,” March 15, 1648, ibid., 9:303.

[3] Conference 4, “Fidelity to Rising and Mental Prayer,” August 2, 1640, ibid., 9:24.

[4] Ibid.

[5] See conference 4, “Fidelity to Rising,” 9:24; and conference 15, “Explanation of the Regulations,” [June 14, 1643], ibid., 9:95.

[6] Conference 1, “Observance of the Rule,” January 22, 1645, ibid., 9:172.

An Invitation With Your Name On It

DePaul staff at Nuevos Vecinos

It has long been a tradition at DePaul to hold service days during which students, faculty, and staff participate in community-based projects all over Chicago. Service is in the DNA of any Vincentian institution, and service days are just one small way in which we live out this commitment.

Every year the Division of Mission and Ministry dedicates a day for faculty and staff to engage in service projects identified by our community partners as a need or priority. On an unseasonably warm Friday afternoon in early February, approximately twenty-five faculty and staff visited four sites in the city to participate in projects as diverse as sorting clothes for newly arrived migrants, organizing emergency supplies in a food pantry, and accompanying those with special needs with their daily chores.

Having spent a few hours at the sites, the group then returned to campus to enjoy a nourishing Chartwells lunch followed by a meaningful conversation with peers, wherein we reflected on the activities of the day, the people we met, and the stories in which we had played a small part. In addition to some deeply poignant moments when we wrestled with existential questions regarding equity and the injustice in our city and our world, participants deepened old friendships and established new ones. Everyone seemed to revel in a moment of joyful appreciation to be part of an institution that prioritizes such engagement. As I scanned the reflection circle at the end of the day, I found myself thinking that Vincent would be very proud.

Afterwards, I thought the day was over as I made my way to the Fullerton El. But it wasn’t.

Upon arriving at the train platform, I was pleasantly surprised to run into a DePaul colleague who had participated in the service day. It was great to see her, and we used our ride together to talk about the activities of the day and to get to know one another on a deeper level. We found that we lived in the same neighborhood, and we had some friends in common. We were also getting off the train at the same stop.

Our journey north had already proved to be a lively one after a couple of surprising events that would not have been out of place in a dynamic novel. But then our train shunted to a slow halt at Wilson, and we stopped moving. After what seemed to be a short eternity, a message started scrolling in neon print on the digital announcement board. It stated that, due to a medical emergency, the train would remain at Wilson until EMTs could arrive. In that same instant, I noticed three CTA staff members huddling together around a passenger, who was sprawled out along the row of seats at the front of the car, seemingly unresponsive.

I found myself unsure of what to do next. However, without missing a beat, my DePaul colleague jumped to her feet and hurriedly approached the CTA staff. She said, “I’d like to help. I’m medically trained. I’d like to see him. I can help.” She crouched down so she could be on the same level as the man. Resolutely, she asked him, “Sir, are you ok? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes? Don’t worry, we are going to take care of you. The ambulance is coming. You will be okay. I will stay with you.” After checking to see if he was still conscious, she gently touched his hand and stayed close to him the entire time while the emergency services were on their way. She was determined to let him know he wasn’t alone. When the ambulance whisked him away, he was still unresponsive.

Where this passenger went, we do not know. Who he was, we will never know either, but in that moment, the meaning of Vincentian personalism could not have been clearer. This man, who had been on the train for at least forty-five minutes and was seemingly unresponsive for most of that time, had been ignored by his co-passengers. When the ambulance arrived, his condition did not bode well. If someone had intervened earlier, his situation may not have been so dire. Yet my colleague had jumped into action. She had felt called to see how she might help him. It wasn’t the technicalities of her medical training that seemed to be the most important in that moment though. Rather, it was how she accompanied him with care and compassion in his hour of need. Getting down to his level, gently ministering to him with attention and love, and even holding his hand at one point, reminded me of the best of our Vincentian mission.

I had thought that our service ended when we left the service sites earlier that day. Yet watching my colleague respond to a stranger, perhaps in his moment of greatest need, with a kind word and small gestures that demonstrated that he wasn’t alone was perhaps the most profound demonstration of Vincentian personalism that I had witnessed the entire day. I was in awe, and I was reminded of the words of Saint Vincent that we had reflected on at the closing of our service day: “Let’s keep this lamp always lit in our hearts.”[1]

Every day, there are invitations in our life that ask us to focus on what really matters. Sometimes, this may involve reaching out to another in need and taking the risk to step outside our comfort zone and respond with an act of compassion. While we may never know how such an act may be received, if we listen deeply, we may find the courage to trust the truth of our actions and respond.

That day, I had the good fortune of being with someone who didn’t hesitate when she heard that call. I witnessed a small act of great love in that moment, demonstrated by a DePaul colleague whom I had just met.

I am thinking about that formative moment still, and today, I feel moved to share it with you and ask how you are being invited to demonstrate Vincentian personalism.

Reflection Questions

  1. Can you think of a moment when you felt called to respond to a stranger by an act of compassion? How and why did it stay with you?
  2. What act of compassion might you be invited to share at DePaul today that could lighten the load of a colleague? How will you respond?

Reflection by: Siobhan O’Donoghue, PhD, Director of Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry

[1] Conference 198, “Seeking the Kingdom of God (Common Rules, Chap. 2, Art. 2),” February 21, 1659, CCD, 12:116. Available online at https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/36/.

Accepting Who We Are

Nothing causes me to examine myself, and my relationship with God, more closely than the Christian season of Lent, when the earthly and divine aspects of our human existence come together in their fullest, most challenging expressions. In my imagination, I see myself standing alone on a mountaintop for the 40 days of Lent, with one hand holding a mirror to my face, reflecting my authentic humanity with all of its fear and vulnerability. The other hand is stretched out, grasping for something that I cannot see, but that I hope is there. It is something that will help strengthen me, sustain me, and keep me safe. The divine presence in the midst of the human struggle.

Lent has taken on an even more personal and intimate significance for me over the last few years. For it was on Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, in 2018 that my father died. He went peacefully, surrounded by his family, with remnants of the ashes symbolizing his faith and his humanity still faintly visible on his forehead. It was a poignant embodiment of the traditional Ash Wednesday blessing “remember, from dust you came and unto dust you shall return.”

Recently, I came across a story from Vincent de Paul about his own father that, although centuries old, mirrors my own experience and serves to illustrate our ongoing need for what Vincent called simplicity. Today we might call it authenticity or integrity.

The story goes that once, when Vincent de Paul was a young seminarian, his father came to visit him. Vincent was self-conscious about his humble background and had not shared with his classmates that his family were poor farmers. When the porter announced that a plainly dressed man was asking for him, Vincent looked out the window and saw that it was his father, wearing shabby work clothes, standing outside waiting at the door. Vincent was so embarrassed at the sight of his father that he pretended he did not know him; he said there must be a mistake and told the porter to send the man away.[1]

I feel a guilty connection with Vincent around our fathers as  once, when I was a young attorney working at a large law firm, my father came to visit me at my office. As was the case with Vincent’s father, my dad had been a farmer. Years of working in the sun had taken their toll and, on this particular day, my dad was wearing a big bandage on the side of his nose where he had just had a benign skin cancer removed. Just as my dad and I entered the elevator to head up to my office, one of the partners from the law firm got on with us. The older attorney smiled and nodded hello to us and my dad followed suit. But I, embarrassed by my dad’s appearance and insecure around my superior, could only mumble something like “you’ll have to forgive my dad … he’s just been to the doctor.” The rest of the elevator ride was painfully awkward. Years later, I still cringe at that memory.

Vincent told the story of his own embarrassing behavior towards his father multiple times in his later life. In part, I suspect he did so to pay belated homage to the simple, loving man who had gone out of his way just to see his son at seminary. But Vincent also used the story for instruction. He was teaching his community an important lesson, one that is as relevant today as it was then: challenging as it may be, we must be willing to know and accept our lives and ourselves. This means not just the good and pleasing parts, but also the tough and embarrassing parts, and the times we may have made mistakes or even failed at something important. Without this self-awareness and acceptance, we will find it next to impossible to accept those around us. We will also not be able to bring the integrity, honesty, authenticity, and in Vincent’s words, the simplicity that is necessary to win hearts, build relationships, and impact lives.

This quality of integrity or authenticity that Vincent prized so greatly was clearly not on display the day his father paid him a visit at the seminary (nor, for that matter, when my dad visited me). But it is gratifying to remember that with time and practice it can develop as it so clearly did for Vincent. With intentional effort to accept our entire selves, flaws and all, we will find it easier to offer our lives to the service of others.

Reflection Questions:

  • Are there aspects of yourself, and your life, that you find difficult to accept? Why do you think this, and is there anything you can do to change it?
  • Here at DePaul, do you find that you are usually able to be your authentic self? Are there ways that you might be able to contribute to helping make our community a place where all members can be their full and authentic selves?

 Reflection by: Tom Judge, Assistant Director and Chaplain, Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry

[1] Quoted in Pierre Coste, The Life and Works of Saint Vincent de Paul, trans. Joseph Leonard, C.M. (New York: New City Press, 1987), 1:14. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/coste_engbio/3/.