Mission Monday

The Call of Uncertainty

Cassandra Lobo Mission and Ministry, Mission Monday , , , , ,

Written By: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

Photo by Vladislav Babienko on Unsplash

Now that it is spring and we are amid graduation season, much advice will be given to those who are matriculating, particularly younger students. At this time of year, especially for graduating college students who are starting their careers, there’s an emphasis on forging ahead. For graduating high school students planning to attend college, picking a major is a looming decision, something that they may have already started working on when choosing a school. Graduation speakers talk a lot about having confidence and being adventurous, and they usually frame it in positive terms about how exciting it is to have all these choices ahead. What they often don’t talk about is how to handle the restlessness and discomfort that comes with uncertainty. It’s an issue that affects more than just the graduates—it can also apply to those sitting in the audience: the graduates’ parents and their parents’ peers who may also be at a fork in the road as they face empty nests and the challenges of middle age. These audience members might be looking back at this time in their own lives when it seemed like they had everything before them. They might desire to recapture that feeling and sense of possibility. Although at least the outward paths of their lives may appear to be set in terms of things like careers and family life, they might be facing different kinds of uncertainty, feeling that they have conflicting priorities and that whichever one they are attending to at the moment is not the one they would choose if they had a choice. They may feel dissatisfaction with those aspects of their lives that seem set and wonder how to do things differently.

The fact is that no single age group has a monopoly on the discomfort of uncertainty. The possibilities before us in youth may seem exhilarating, but it’s also disorienting not to have a structure to life. And for folks who are more established, the philosopher Kieran Setiya has noted that when we look back, we are not missing “a time when we could have everything” so much as “a time before we had to commit ourselves and thus confront our losses.”[i] The question is, what can we do about this?

We might try taking advice from Vincent de Paul. He once offered Louise de Marillac wise counsel when she was wrestling with uncertainty over the direction her life would take. From the perspective of his faith, he encouraged her to bear ambiguity and dissatisfaction patiently with grace, saying, “Try to live content among your reasons for discontent and always honor the inactivity and unknown condition of the Son of God. That is your center and what He asks of you for the present and for the future, forever.”[ii] Vincent was urging patience and an embrace of uncertainty almost as a holy time or a holy obligation because it was a time to listen for God’s voice and will. Viewed this way, uncertainty can be approached with hope and even gratitude. As Mission & Ministry’s own Mark Laboe has written, the chaos of uncertainty also contains “a creative energy … that can ultimately become transformative and life-giving.”[iii] The poet Rainer Maria Rilke offers what sounds like a more secular version of Vincent’s advice when he writes:

“Be patient towards all that is unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms, like books written in a foreign tongue. Do not now strive to uncover answers: they cannot be given you because you have not been able to live them. And what matters is to live everything. Live the questions for now. Perhaps then you will gradually, without noticing it, live your way into the answer.”[iv]

No matter where we are in life’s journey and what we are questioning, let us accept our uncertainty as a chance to develop more fully into the people we are called to be.

Reflection Questions

  • What feels most uncertain about your life now? Can you recall a similar time of uncertainty? How can you draw lessons from that time that may help you face your uncertainty today?
  • Can you locate the potential for growth within your uncertainty?

Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

[i] Kieran Setiya, Midlife: A Philosophical Guide (Princeton University Press, 2018), 73.

[ii] Letter 29, “To Saint Louise,” [between 1626 and May 1629], CCD, 1:54. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/25/.

[iii] Mark Laboe, “What Anchors You … and Us?” The Way of Wisdom, January 6, 2025, https://blogs.depaul.edu/dmm/2025/01/05/what-anchors-you-and-us/.

[iv] Rainier Maria Rilke to Franz Xaver Kappus, July 16, 1903, in Letters to a Young Poet, trans. Charlie Louth (New York: Penguin Books, 2013), 24.

Beginnings, Endings, and the Sacred In-Between

Cassandra Lobo Mission and Ministry, Mission Monday , , ,

Written by: Rev. Diane Dardón, ELCA, D. Min., Director, Pastoral Care and Religious Diversity

Photo by Steve Woltmann and Thomas Vangel/DePaul University

A few weeks ago, I found myself in the Student Center elevator with several students who were talking about the number of guests joining them for their graduation ceremonies. The animated conversation moved into a communal reflection on how quickly their time at DePaul had flown. They agreed that it seemed like only yesterday when they came to campus for freshman orientation—and now they are preparing to leave behind their college adventure. Now they are preparing for new beginnings.

T. S. Eliot once wrote, “What we call the beginning is often the end … The end is where we start from.” [1] This quote and the elevator conversation I was privy to beautifully illustrate the cyclical nature of beginnings and endings. At DePaul, students begin their journeys by stepping into a community committed to helping them find their purpose as they prepare for careers, engage in service, and learn to reflect and act. And at the end of their DePaul journey graduates step out into the world hopefully with a heart transformed and committed to continuing the Vincentian mission of service, kindness, and goodness as new adventures unfold.

Our tapestries of beginnings and endings are woven over and over again: graduations, new jobs, farewells, and first hellos mark the turning points of our journeys. But as we pause to celebrate or grieve these milestones, we often overlook the most transformative part of the journey—the in-between. It is in this space—in the middle of the journey at DePaul—that we create a beloved community, where we find opportunities to grow and serve, where we stand in solidarity with one another, where we are formed and transformed to live our lives with meaning and purpose. Our Vincentian values—service, community, human dignity, and commitment to the marginalized—form a foundation that every member of the DePaul community is invited and encouraged to embrace. At DePaul, it is in the sacred in-between that students, faculty, and staff are invited to allow themselves to be transformed by our Vincentian legacy.

Transformation may not be quick, and it rarely takes root at the beginning or end of the journey. Instead, it happens over time, and is the result of intentionally making changes, seeking knowledge, relying upon the wisdom of others, building relationships, and allowing for reflection. Living in the middle and allowing for transformation of heart and mind is life-giving, and it is complicated. Brené Brown, a Texan professor, researcher, and storyteller describes the in-between as “messy, but it’s also where the magic happens.” [2] At DePaul the messy middle is where we find ourselves changed, it is where we meet grace, and it becomes a space for learning about and deeply engaging with our Vincentian values. The middle is where we are often challenged by the messiness but also transformed to be our very best. Each act of kindness, each honest conversation, each difficult decision taken with integrity, is part of the sacred in-between that shapes who we are becoming.

As graduates have been shaped over the years and now end this chapter of their lives, our hope is that they boldly carry their Vincentian values forward as they embark upon new beginnings and enter new communities, careers, and vocations. Our hope is that they have been formed and transformed into people of purpose who are committed to changing the world.

Poet Mary Oliver asks, “What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” [3] Our hope is that DePaul grads carry with them the very things they’ve encountered in the sacred in-between: a Vincentian heart shaped by service, community, reflection, and action—and live their one wild and precious life with intention, compassion, and purpose.

Congratulations to the Class of 2025! May you be deeply enriched as you embark upon beginnings, endings, and all the in-betweens to come!

Reflection Questions

1. As you’ve lived in the in-between at DePaul, how have you been transformed by our Vincentian legacy?

2. As you’ve served in the in-between at DePaul, how have you shared our Vincentian legacy and encouraged the transformation of others?

Reflection by: Rev. Diane Dardón, ELCA, D. Min., Director, Pastoral Care and Religious Diversity

[1] T. S. Eliot, “Little Gidding,” Four Quartets (Harcourt, Brace, 1943), 21.

[2] See Brené Brown, Rising Strong (Spiegel & Grau, 2015).

[3] Mary Oliver, “The Summer Day,” House of Light (Beacon Press, 1990). Available online at: https://www.loc.gov/programs/poetry-and-literature/poet-laureate/poet-laureate-projects/poetry-180/all-poems/item/poetry-180-133/the-summer-day/.

Dialogue, Not Demonization

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Written By: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

Photo by The Jopwell Collection on Unsplash

As political and social turmoil continues to beset the U.S., I keep asking questions. How did we get here? Where will we end up? And perhaps the most pressing question of all is a variation of the Vincentian question, What must be done? What can I do? How can I respond? At a virtual town hall a few months ago, my congressperson said that the most important thing to do now is to stay engaged—and he specifically recommended trying to talk to people who hold different views.

When he said that, I immediately recalled the last time I tried to engage a friend whose opinion seriously diverged from mine. It was in December 2021, when the first Covid boosters became available. My friend said he didn’t intend to get one. This friend and I had already had many conversations in 2020 that had not gone well. We differed on many issues, and it seemed to me that he was more and more inclined to believe in conspiracy theories. His positions on climate change and the origin of Covid particularly seemed to be anti-science, but he had gotten the first Covid vaccine. When he made this declaration, I was immediately prepared to try to convince him otherwise for his own good, especially since he had several health conditions that made him high risk. We started to debate vaccine safety. I began by talking about how vaccines are developed and what diseases they had already helped eradicate. And then I said, “These vaccines are safe—”

“They’re not!” he said.

Oh, no, here we go, I thought. “Yes, they are—”

“No, they aren’t! [His brother] ended up with a heart problem from the one he got. [His other brother] got the first shot and passed out. His girlfriend thought he was dead.”

The conversation ended shortly after that, with me offering sympathy for what his family had gone through but still saying he should talk with his doctor about getting a booster, and with him still refusing. Given what had been said in our conversations before, it perhaps wasn’t surprising that I thought my friend was anti-science. But the attitude that I approached him with was that I knew better than he did and that I was going to try to save him from himself and his woefully misguided viewpoint, which also endangered others. I assumed things about myself, and I assumed things about him, and my assumptions were that I had good reasons for thinking the way I did—and that he didn’t. I offered him sympathy, but I did not offer him empathy.

I thought about this again when I read Ilana Redstone’s The Certainty Trap: Why We Need to Question Ourselves More—and How We Can Judge Others Less. She writes, “The assumption that the other person is simply ignorant is easy. And it’s a way to avoid a disagreement. What’s more, dismissing someone’s opinion as being the result of not having enough or the right information gives me permission to move on, not really engaging with what they’re saying…. If I think my position is the one anyone would come to with the right information, I am free from having to interrogate or challenge my own thinking.” [1] In other words, we would do well to follow Vincent de Paul’s injunction to “practice humility and patience.” [2] Vincent based his entire community on this principle. He and his followers were well familiar with the idea of needing to fully listen to the people they encountered, both the people they were serving and the people who were their colleagues in service. It was the key to their success—but that doesn’t mean it was easy.

As heirs to Vincent here at DePaul, this principle calls us to approach disagreement with honesty and in good faith, in the sense that we must fully acknowledge both the content and feeling behind an opposing viewpoint. It is both arrogance and an error to dismiss a view we do not hold by attributing it to reasons that serve our own preconceived sense of what is true. We need to engage in dialogue with the assumption that the other person has actual reasons behind what they are saying, reasons that go beyond ignorance or hate. That is what I should have done with my friend. I thought he was ignorant, but he was actually speaking from real life experience. I worried that he was endangering himself and others, yet his motives were quite the opposite.

As I wrote before the 2024 presidential election, studies show that it’s not so much the American people who are polarized as it is their leaders. We hold similar values, but we disagree on how to put them into practice. Or we may choose officials we agree with on some issues without espousing all of their actions and rhetoric. It’s hard to believe that, given what we see in headlines and on television. It is so tempting, especially in these times, to demonize the other side, whoever the “other side” may be. But doing so is destructive. We have to keep talking to each other. Redstone says the way to do this is to articulate a value behind your position. For example, you could say, “I believe all people deserve to live in a safe environment, so I believe migration is a human right.” If you articulate the value (“all people deserve to live in a safe environment”), you avoid using some of the shorthand that gets charged, and you can help people to avoid misunderstanding the value behind your position. The same value in this example could lead to someone holding the opposite position, but if you both articulate the value, you can see where you have some common ground and work from there.

Committing to dialogue doesn’t mean abandoning our own core values. As Redstone writes, it means “learning to recognize when we think some aspect of a heated issue is simple or obvious, and that anyone who sees it differently is ignorant or evil…. Leaving certainty behind doesn’t require anyone to admit to being wrong (maybe you’re not wrong after all). It just means being a little less sure you’re right.” [3]

Reflection Questions

  1. Can you think of a situation in your life when your assumptions about someone else’s beliefs turned out to be wrong? What led you to those assumptions?
  2. Think about a position that is opposite from one you hold. What might be one valid reason (not ignorance or evil) that could lead someone to that view? What would another person be accepting as a fact to come to that conclusion? Would you and that other person agree on the same meaning of vocabulary that is key to the issue?

Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

[1] Ilana Redstone, The Certainty Trap: Why We Need to Question Ourselves More—and How We Can Judge Others Less (Pitchstone Publishing, 2024), 79. I highly recommend this book, which has exercises in it to help you challenge your thinking.

[2] Letter 1537, “To A Coadjutor Brother, in the Genoa House,” August 16, 1652, CCD, 4:442. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/29/.

[3] Redstone, Certainty Trap, 225.

126 Years of Responding

Pradnya Mission and Ministry, Mission Monday , , , , ,

Written By: Rubén Álvarez Silva, Director, Just DePaul, Division of Mission and Ministry

People’s Climate March, Washington, DC, March 2017. Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0

May 24th marked the 10 year anniversary of Pope Francis signing Laudato Si’, his seminal encyclical on climate change and our common home. This document served as a call-to-action to urgently and concretely respond to the cries of the Earth and the poor by addressing climate change and the social and environmental challenges which threaten all life on the planet. In Laudato Si’, Pope Francis emphasized the interconnectedness of all living things and the environment through the concept of a “sacramental universe,” suggesting that all parts of creation are linked and dependent on one another. Moreover, Pope Francis highlighted the importance of an “integral ecology,” inviting us to shift our perspective from seeing humanity as owners of nature, separate and above it, to being responsible stewards “…called to care for all that exists.”

Since DePaul’s founding in 1898, “[t]hrough education and research, the university addresses the great questions of our day, promoting peaceful, just, and equitable solutions to social and environmental challenges.” [1] Just last week, I had the privilege of attending the 17th Annual Service Speaks Conference where I heard how a DePaul education impacted Madeline “Maddy” Robertson, Director of Sustainability at Greystar, on her personal and professional journey. In her remarks, Maddy invited us to put on our “sustainability sunglasses” to see the infinite challenges and opportunities before us, as individuals and a community, to address climate change both on and off our campus. [2]

And indeed, every day across campus our community is addressing these challenges in exciting and creative ways. We’re developing our first institution-wide Climate Action Plan (CAP); to learn more and share your feedback you should visit sustainability.depaul.edu. There is also a burgeoning DePaul Food Recovery and Food Justice network combining efforts to reduce food waste and insecurity in our community. The Theatre School just celebrated its first Climate Action Festival. Chemistry faculty, staff, and students are diligently working to innovate “green chemistry” into teaching, research, and scholarship. Study abroad launched a Sustainability Advisory Committee this year to explore and expand sustainability into program design and host country experiences. The President’s Sustainability Committee (PSC) is gearing up to address zero-waste. This list goes on and, with your response to the cry of the Earth and the poor, we can create more possibilities towards realizing integral ecology in this sacramental universe.

As you respond to the Vincentian question “What must be done?”, put on your sustainability sunglasses and ask yourself:

  • Who am I?
    Pause and think about your identities and values.
  • Who are we? Pause and think about what our mission and principles represent to you.
  • How can we design and build a more socially and environmentally just future collectively? Pause and imagine another world is possible.

The challenges of sustainability can feel overwhelming at times, so take heart in the words of St. Louise de Marillac and “[e]ncourage one another and may your mutual good example speak louder than any words can.” [3]

Reflection by: Rubén Álvarez Silva, Director, Just DePaul, Division of Mission and Ministry

[1] University Mission Statement, March 4, 2021, at: https://offices.depaul.edu/mission-ministry/about/Pages/mission.aspx.

[2] For an off campus example, see: Laudato Si’ Movement, 2025: A year of adventure, November 8, 2024, at: https://laudatosimovement.org/news/2025-a-year-of-adventure/.

[3] L.402, (To the Sisters of Angers), (September 1654), Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, 450.

Our Unwavering Commitment

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Written By: Siobhan O’Donoghue, M. Div., Director of Faculty and Staff Engagement, Mission & Ministry

“When the roots are deep, there is no reason to fear the wind.” Drawing on the wisdom of such a profound African proverb, Julianne Stratton, Lieutenant Governor of Illinois and DePaul alum, thus began a recent reflection at DePaul. Along with Valerie Johnson, associate provost for diversity, equity, and inclusion, and Dania Matos, vice president for diversity, inclusion, and belonging, Stratton was serving on a panel to discuss the challenges and opportunities facing higher education today. As part of the President’s Dialogue series, all three panelists emphasized the importance of community and leaning into our mission at an uncertain time. This is even more important when some of our core values may feel under attack. “So, for now, do what you’ve been doing, maintain your mission, understand why it’s important. We’ll get through this together.” [1]

During his lifetime, Vincent de Paul also often encountered attacks on some of the core values and beliefs upon which his life and ministry were grounded. This was especially true during the War of Great Confinement, [2] which was a time when more than five thousand poverty-stricken individuals were institutionalized for the crime of being poor.

Specifically, in the words of a decree established by the State:

We expressly prohibit and forbid all persons of either sex, of any locality and of any age, of whatever breeding and birth, and in whatever conditions they may be, able-bodied or invalid, sick or convalescent, curable or incurable, to beg in the city and suburbs of Paris, neither in the churches, nor at the doors of such, nor at the doors of houses nor in the streets, nor anywhere else in public, nor in secret, by day or night … under pain of being whipped for the first offense, and for the second condemned to the galleys if men and boys, banished if women or girls. [3]

Almsgiving was also prohibited at this time. Indeed, those who were poor without anywhere to hide or escape were considered enemies of the state. Accordingly, they were hunted down by the Parisian militia, commonly known as the “archers of the poor,” [4] and forced into mandatory institutions of the General Hospital of Paris.

Yet amid such turmoil, the call of Vincent and Louise remained clear and their response undaunted: to “defend, honor and lovingly serve the most abandoned of the poor.” Thus, they, along with the confraternities and institutions that they had founded, continued to administer charity to the most abandoned, despite the challenges they faced during this tumultuous time.

Centuries later, in Chicago in 1898, while the context was very different, a similar impetus would prompt the Vincentians to establish Saint Vincent’s College. Since education was seen as a way to help families out of poverty, the Vincentian purpose was clear. To educate “the sons of Chicago’s burgeoning Catholic immigrant population.” [5] This establishment would lead to the diverse and vibrant university we know as DePaul today.

And now, every month, the Division of Mission and Ministry helps orient an array of new staff to the university. An integral part of this orientation is to reflect together on some of the milestones along our Vincentian path of 430+ years. As a regular facilitator of these orientations, I am always amazed at how, while the terminology we use to describe DePaul’s core values has evolved, the values themselves have not changed. Our commitment remains steadfast. In our essence, DePaul remains a Catholic, Vincentian institution that strives to genuinely welcome and serve diverse faculty, staff, and students, inviting each person to become part of a values-based learning community that is inclusive and accepting. [6] This creates a true sense of belonging for all, grounded in a deep respect for human dignity. Such a commitment is part of a living legacy, of which we are all part. Indeed, as Vincent and Louise might have attested, “Plus ça change, plus c’est la meme chose,” or, in more familiar terms, “The more things change, the more they remain the same.”

Reflection Questions

  1. What do you value most about working at DePaul?
  2. In what ways do you identify with these values of Sts. Vincent and Louise?

Reflection by: Siobhan O’Donoghue, M. Div., Director of Faculty and Staff Engagement, Mission & Ministry

[1] Russell Dorn, “DePaul Hosts Illinois Lieutenant Governor Juliana Stratton for Dialogue on Building Belonging,” March 3, 2025, DePaul University Newsline, at: https://‌‌resources.depaul.edu/newsline/sections/campus-and-community/Pages/building-belonging-25.aspx.

[2] See Edward R. Udovic, C.M., “‘Caritas Christi Urget Nos’: The Urgent Challenges of Charity in Seventeenth-Century France,” Vincentian Heritage 12:2 (1991): 86. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol12/iss2/1/.

[3] Ibid., 85–86.

[4] Ibid., 101.

[5] Dennis P. McCann, “The Foundling University: Reflections on the Early History of DePaul,” in DePaul University Centennial Essays and Images, ed. John L. Rury and Charles S. Suchar (Chicago: DePaul University, 1998), 52. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/20.

[6] Edward R. Udovic, C.M., “Vincentian Pilgrimage Hospitality: Historical and Contemporary Perspectives,” Vincentian Heritage 33:1 (2016). Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol33/iss1/4.

A Model for Living in Turbulent Times

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Written By: Rachelle Kramer, D.Min., Director, Catholic Campus Ministry

Each morning as I begin a new day, I find myself glancing at my phone and wondering what terrible headlines await on my news app. What denigrating actions have those in power taken today? What vulnerable populations are being targeted? My stomach churns, and I usually decide to postpone my quick perusal of headlines until after my morning routine, to begin the day on a more positive, if not hopeful, note. Moderating my intake of the news cycle has become an essential and necessary step to maintain my emotional and spiritual well-being these days, and I know I am not alone. These are, indeed, incredibly challenging and, dare I say, unprecedented times.

When I notice myself despairing and doomscrolling, I find it helpful to look to other inspiring figures who have also lived through challenging circumstances. One such individual—whom we celebrate at DePaul this week—is Saint Louise de Marillac, companion of Saint Vincent, co-founder of the Daughters of Charity, and trailblazer in her own time. Though living in a different era, Louise’s context in seventeenth-century France was also wrought with complexity and difficulty: wars, extreme poverty, political turmoil, and famine, to name a few. Not only that, Louise suffered tremendously in her life. An “illegitimate” child, Louise never knew her mother, and her father died when she was fifteen. Estranged from her family, she was denied admission to the convent (something she deeply desired), possessed frail health, had a son with special needs, and lost her husband in her early thirties.

Despite these challenges, Louise did not sit on the sidelines. Surrounded by overwhelming suffering and poverty, she got to work. Alongside her companion, Vincent, Louise used her tremendous leadership and organizational capabilities to found a religious community that, in a mere few decades, took charge of hospitals in Paris and the surrounding provinces; provided shelter for abandoned children, creating a whole new method of child care; oversaw ministries to the galley convicts; created a charitable warehouse that saved 193 villages during a period of famine; and started free elementary schools for girls in the Paris archdiocese, a stunning accomplishment during that time. [1]

How in the world did Louise accomplish all of this, given the many challenges and obstacles she must have faced, especially as a woman living in the 1600s? Without question, she was extremely gifted. But there is more to the story. Louise spoke often of her faith in God as her grounding for the work she did. Her spirituality was deeply shaped by the centrality of the Jesus crucified. [2] Having suffered tremendously in her own life, Louise had great compassion for those who experienced suffering, and she felt called to help alleviate it. In forming her community, she, “sought to fix the eyes of her Daughters on the suffering of Christ as the one whom they served in the poor.” [3] Thus, author Louise Sullivan describes Louise as, “a mystic with her feet solidly planted on the ground.” [4] How I love that image! She was a woman who lived in the world, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work, but that work was only possible because she was deeply rooted in something beyond herself—her faith. And it was that faith that provided the wellspring to continue doing the difficult work.

If there is anything we can learn from Louise during our present-day challenges, I believe it is this: we, too, can be “mystics with our feet solidly planted on the ground.” While we at DePaul do not all ascribe to Louise’s Christian faith, I do believe that we, too, need a well to draw from that is bigger than ourselves so that we can both persevere and take the actions needed during these troubling times. For some, that well is called God. For others, it is named in a sense of spirituality, or the interconnectedness of all humanity, or the inner conviction that living a life committed to justice, solidarity, and selflessness is worth living. Whatever that well is for you, hold fast to that. Be a mystic by taking time to pray, reflect, meditate, or sit in silence (lose the phone!)—whatever you need to tap into that Reality. We need this reservoir to get us through.

May the example of Louise inspire us to stay grounded in something beyond ourselves, to act, and to move forward in hope.

Questions for Reflection:

  1. Are there any changes I might make to my daily routine that will help me remain grounded during this unsettling time?
  2. What practice or practices would help me connect with that higher Reality?
  3. What am I being called to do in this moment?

Reflection by: Rachelle Kramer, D.Min., Director, Catholic Campus Ministry

[1] Louise Sullivan, “Louise de Marillac: A Spiritual Portrait” in Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac: Rules, Conferences, and Writing, ed. Frances Ryan and John E. Rybolt (New York: Paulist Press, 1995), 49–57.

[2] Sullivan, “Louise de Marillac,” 57–58.

[3] Ibid., 58.

[4] Ibid., 60.

Mutual Care in Troubling Times

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Written By: Katie Brick, Executive Assistant, Division of Mission & Ministry

Pope Francis at Vargihna, Brazil.
Photo by Tânia Rêgo/ABr – Agência Brasil, CC BY 3.0 br.

During the Great Recession of 2007–2009, I recall how DePaul adjunct chaplain Maureen Dolan expressed great hope that people would turn toward one another in mutual care, because they had to, given the difficulties being faced. During a scary time, she saw opportunity for people with means to simplify their lives and consumerist habits, share living spaces, and pitch in to support one another in a way that often only happens when we’re forced to do it.

I’m not sure how much has changed, but here we are again facing economic and social volatility. Amid anxiety, I sometimes hear Maureen’s voice in my head, may she rest in peace, asking: What can grow right now? What community can be developed because it has to be developed? How can you take your uncertainty and the pain that is happening in society and humbly contribute to something positive—something that may lead you and others to a much more satisfying way of being?

Maureen’s hopes and questions seem to reflect those of Saint Vincent de Paul. Speaking of loss, he wrote, “If the world takes something from us on the one hand, God will give us something on the other.” [1]

What can we gain from uncertainty, apparent loss, and sometimes forced simplicity? What divine gift might come from this?

With the recent death of Pope Francis, I have reflected on his kinship with Vincent and our university’s Vincentian forebearers in the Vincentian charism. In a 2017 address on the Feast Day of Vincent de Paul, Pope Francis said of Vincent, “He prompts us to live in fraternal communion among ourselves and to go forth courageously in mission to the world. He calls us to free ourselves from complicated language, self-absorbed rhetoric, and attachment to material forms of security. These may seem satisfactory in the short term but they do not grant God’s peace; indeed, they are frequently obstacles to mission.”

I believe that Pope Francis, who admired Vincent de Paul, shared many qualities with him. These included deep faith, great care for the poor and vulnerable, a desire for reform within the Catholic Church, a loving heart, and a simple lifestyle admired by many. Most of all, he had a vision for what the world should be like, coupled with gifts to inspire and exhort people to action. Just hours before he died, Pope Francis asked world leaders to band together, as Maureen asked people to band together, and as Vincent and Louise established communities of service to bring people together. He said, “I appeal to all those in positions of political responsibility in our world not to yield to the logic of fear which only leads to isolation from others, but rather to use the resources available to help the needy, to fight hunger and to encourage initiatives that promote development. These are the ‘weapons’ of peace: weapons that build the future, instead of sowing seeds of death!” [2]

It remains to be seen how our brand new Pope, Leo XIV, will guide the Church and communicate to the world about current times. In his first address after being announced, he called on the Church of Rome to “seek together how to be a missionary Church, a Church that builds bridges, dialogue, always open to welcome…all those who need our presence,” and said he wants the Church to be one that “…always seeks peace, always seeks charity, always strives to be close especially to those who suffer.” These seem to be words of compassion, with an eye to serving those in need, and I am glad of it.

Our mission calls us to mutual care and active concern. People you know, perhaps colleagues or your version of Maureen Dolan—and key Vincentian figures like Vincent, Louise de Marillac, and Frédéric Ozanam, or the recently departed Pope Francis or our new Pope, Leo XIV, ——provide models and heart in a time when we need a new way of being a human community. I am inspired by them when I slow down enough to allow myself to be. As I can all too quickly return to fear and isolation, I depend on them and others to pull me out of self-focus and into having a broader perspective. In turn, I am called to do that for others. It’s an interdependence for which I am extremely grateful, and I am reminded to walk a path that can get obscured in the chaos of modern life, but which is supremely important.

Reflection Questions

  1. Who is someone you admire, who can inspire you during difficult times to make a difference and consider changes that benefit others as well as yourself?
  2. Can you think back to a difficult time and name a gift that emerged from it? How might this experience act as a touchstone for you to bear difficulties in the present?

Reflection by: Katie Brick, Executive Assistant, Division of Mission & Ministry

[1] Letter 2752, “To Monsieur Desbordes, Counselor in the Parlement,” December 21, 1658, CCD, 7:424. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/32/.

[2] Francis, “Urbi et Orbi,” April 20, 2025. Available online at: https://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/messages/urbi/documents/20250420-urbi-et-orbi-pasqua.html.

Called to Serve

Pradnya Mission and Ministry, Mission Monday , , , ,

Written By: Katie Sullivan, Assistant Director, Vincentian Service and Formation Office, Division of Mission and Ministry

One of DePaul’s longest-standing traditions is Vincentian Service Day (VSD), which started as part of DePaul’s Centennial celebration during the 1998–1999 school year. This event, held yearly on the first Saturday of May, is a day when students, staff, faculty, and alumni go out into the community, connecting with community partners and doing service.

I have been at DePaul since 2012 and participated in VSD during my first five years by helping with the morning program, the post-service barbecue, and doing service. In the 2017–2018 academic year, my role at DePaul changed, and overseeing all aspects of Vincentian Service Day became one of my primary job responsibilities.

I learned quickly that putting together a big event like VSD is like putting together a big jigsaw puzzle. First, I work on the edges—cultivating relationships with colleagues around the university to ensure that the event aspect of the day is prepared, interviewing and selecting students for the Service Day team, connecting with community partners to ensure we have sites for participants, etc. Then I work on the inside of the puzzle and figure out where each piece goes and how to fit them in with the other pieces of the puzzle: there’s outreach to student organizations and departments, follow-up with community partners, ordering flyers, and more. These things are gratifying, maddening, and challenging all at once. That final, most satisfying piece of the puzzle gets put into place at the end of the event, when everyone has returned from their service sites and is enjoying lunch on the Quad.

So many times, tasks and duties in our lives can feel daunting. I always find it important to remember that I am not alone when things feel like they’re piling up. Many people in my life are willing to listen and help me when I need to vent. If I didn’t have these people to help me, I am sure my frustrations would sometimes get the best of me. Yet, they provide a much needed lift and it’s usually right when I need it, which Saint Louise de Marillac would call “Divine Providence.”

What are some of the tools you use for yourself when you’re managing challenging projects? How do you manage when things are feeling out of control or frustrating? Whom do you turn to for support to ensure you can keep going when you are facing a challenge?

This year Vincentian Service Day is Saturday, May 3. The students on the team jumped right in to help put the puzzle together. Some of the students have helped with previous VSDs, and some are brand new to the role, learning about the many, many tasks involved in creating a successful event like on-the-job training. Our hope is that we create a day for our DePaul community to come together and connect with our mission by doing service with more than 25 community partners all over Chicago. For me, service has always been a great way to get out of my head and stop thinking about the never-ending list of things I should be doing. Maybe VSD can be that for you—a way to do something different and give yourself a break from the many things on your to-do list.

Many service sites this year are community gardens in locations around the city where fresh food is not readily available, and the gardens fill in this gap for people. As one community partner noted to students a few years ago: “This is not hobby gardening; this garden feeds the community.” [1]

I hope you will consider participating in this DePaul tradition. Our Vincentian mission calls us to see beyond ourselves, and Vincentian Service Day is one of those opportunities where we, alongside our DePaul and Chicago community members, can go out and serve the needs of others. VSD is a day of connection. As Saint Louise de Marillac said, “Encourage one another and may your mutual good example speak louder than any words can.” [2]

Registration for Vincentian Service Day 2025 closes on Monday, April 28, at 11:59 PM. For more information about participating in VSD, visit the VSD website; or email: serviceday@depaul.edu. If you don’t register by then and still want to participate, you can join us on Saturday, May 3, at 8:30 AM at Sullivan Athletic Center, and we will place you where we most need help that morning.

Reflection by: Katie Sullivan, Assistant Director, Vincentian Service and Formation Office, Division of Mission and Ministry

[1] Cordia Pugh, Hermitage Community Garden.

[2] Letter 402, “To the Sisters of Angers,” September 1654, Spiritual Writings, 450. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/ldm/11/.

The Unimportance of Being Innocent

Pradnya Mission and Ministry, Mission Monday , ,

Every year DePaul University is blessed by a visit from Sr. Helen Prejean, who spends a few days on campus sharing her wisdom as a religious sister and an anti-death penalty activist. This year, on Wednesday, April 23, Sr. Helen will take part in a conversation about a justice system that can be a treacherous place for innocent people. Panelists will explore intersectional realities and their impact within a system that prioritizes rule of law over human life. “The Unimportance of Being Innocent” will take place between 6:00pm–8:00pm in Cortelyou Commons. All are welcome to attend.

Several years ago, Sr. Helen was awarded DePaul’s highest honor, the Saint Vincent de Paul Award. In honor of her upcoming visit, we’d like to share a previous Mission Monday published in the fall of 2022 that reflects upon the talk she gave at the Lunch with Louise conferral reception. Read it here: Just Say a Word Where You See It’s Needed.

To attend “The Unimportance of Being Innocent” panel discussion on Wednesday, April 23, featuring Sr. Helen Prejean, please RSVP here.

From “The Narrow Place” to Nuance

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Written By: Kayla Schneider-Smith, Assistant Director, Religious Diversity and Pastoral Care, Chaplain for Jewish and Interfaith Life

“The Passover Seder.” Courtesy of Lee F. Schwimmer.

The holiday of Passover is all about telling stories. In fact, the book that Jews read from each year during the Passover seder is called the Haggadah in Hebrew, which translates as “the telling,” or “the story.” The Haggadah not only recounts the biblical narrative of the Israelites’ exodus from over four hundred years of slavery in Egypt, but it also reminds us that “in every generation one is obligated to see oneself as one who personally went out from Egypt.” [1]

In other words, we can’t just tell the stories of our ancestors—we must also listen deeply, empathize, and reflect on our own stories of personal, communal, and spiritual liberation.

The biblical word for Egypt is Mizrayim, which means “straits,” or “narrow places.” For many Jews celebrating Passover today, these narrow places are often viewed metaphorically: where are we limited, and from what do we wish to be liberated?

When we think of metaphorical narrow places in our lives, we unfortunately won’t be hard-pressed to find them—in ourselves, in our DePaul community, in our nation, and throughout our world. I think specifically about the painful polarization that has made it nearly impossible to engage with people who hold viewpoints different from our own, no matter how many dialogue initiatives we attempt.

In her 2009 essay and TED Talk, “The Danger of a Single Story,” Nigerian writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie warns about the stereotypes, assumptions, and “single stories” we hold of others. In her case, she recalls that when she first came to the United States for college, her American roommate assumed she didn’t speak English or know how to use a stove. Many people she encountered had a single, often false story of what it meant to be African. And Adichie, too, admits that she held dangerous assumptions of other populations. She writes, “The single story creates stereotypes. And the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.” [2]

Take the story of Passover, for example. When Pharoah orders the murder of all first-born Hebrew sons, a reader could easily assume that all Egyptians were oppressors, and all Hebrews were oppressed. But that story is incomplete. Why? Because there were Egyptians that risked their lives to deceive Pharoah and let Hebrew babies live, like the famous midwives Shifrah and Puah, [3] or Pharoah’s daughter, who drew baby Moses from the water to save him, knowing full well that he was a Hebrew. [4]

Adichie asserts, “The consequence of the single story is this: It robs people of dignity. It makes our recognition of our equal humanity difficult. It emphasizes how we are different rather than how we are similar.” [5]

Just two weeks ago our DePaul Religious Diversity and Pastoral Care team led a group of twenty students on a Spring Break Interfaith Immersion Day. We visited a Baha’i temple, had lunch in DePaul’s Jewish Life Center, volunteered at Marillac St. Vincent, and toured IMAN, the Inner-City Muslim Action Network. Students and leaders on our trip shared their faith journeys in many ways that challenged stereotypes and “single stories”:

One student pointed out that though many assumed she had always been observant, she had only just started wearing a hijab.

Another student from Kyrgyzstan, a predominately Muslim country, surprised us when she explained that her dad deeply values the Jewish community and had sent her younger sisters to study at a Jewish school in their city.

Our docent at the Baha’i House of Worship shared that he considers himself both Hindu and Baha’i at the same time.

And our guide from IMAN described how he had transitioned from gang involvement to a sense of meaning and purpose in his conversion to Islam.

Adichie writes: “Stories matter. Many stories matter. Stories have been used to dispossess and to malign. But stories can also be used to empower, and to humanize. Stories can break the dignity of a people. But stories can also repair that broken dignity.” Saint Vincent de Paul even echoed this sentiment and the words of the Torah, saying: “I have to love my neighbor as the image of God and the object of His love.” [6]

As we conclude Ramadan, gear up for Easter, and prepare for Passover this spring, may we begin to traverse from our narrow places into nuance. May we find dignity in our shared humanness and repair the dignity of others we may have judged too soon, remembering that we are all created B’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God. [7] And may we find joy in the gift of that renewed perspective.

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Please join us on Thursday, April 17th for our first ever DePaul Jewish Life Passover Bazaar! Featuring Judaica, macaroons, chocolate-covered matzah, 10-plagues-themed arts and crafts, and “The Prince of Egypt” movie screening in the Lincoln Park Student Center Atrium. All are welcome.

A Zissen Pesach (A Sweet Passover) to All!

Reflection by: Kayla Schneider-Smith, Assistant Director, Religious Diversity and Pastoral Care, Chaplain for Jewish and Interfaith Life

[1] Mishnah Pesachim 10:5, interpreting Exodus 13:8.

[2] Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, “The Danger of a Single Story,” TED Talk, TED Talk Global, July 2009. 12 min, 49 sec. https://‌www.ted.com/‌talks/‌chimamanda_‌ngozi_adichie_‌the_danger_‌of_a_‌single_‌story?‌language=en. It should be noted that Adichie did face controversy in 2017 over comments she made about transgender women. Following this, she clarified her remarks and reiterated her support for trans rights.

[3] Exodus 1:15–2.

[4] Exodus 2:5–10.

[5] Adichie, “Danger of a Single Story,” 13 min., 36 sec.

[6] Conference 207, “Charity (Common Rules, Chap. 2, Art. 12),” May 30, 1659, CCD, 12:215. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/36/.

[7] Genesis 1:27.