The Vincentian Roots of Friendship

Written By: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

What do Vincent de Paul, Louise de Marillac, Elizabeth Seton, and Frédéric Ozanam have in common? Some answers are obvious: they loved God deeply, they shared a mission, and they accomplished enormous good for the poor. But they shared commonalities not only in what they did but how they did it. All these dynamic Vincentian figures relied on the power of friendship. This could take a practical form, such as networking to found and support their organizations. But they also relied on it to fulfill personal needs—to mature their outlooks and nurture the incredible amount of spirit it took to accomplish their goals. Much of what we know about these figures comes from the letters they wrote, and, especially in Elizabeth’s and Frédéric’s cases, many of these were to their friends. [1] Therefore, it seems fitting that before Valentine’s Day, which many countries now celebrate as a friendship day, we consider the role of friendship in our Vincentian heritage, our DePaul community, and in our own daily lives.

Let’s put the importance of friendship within our own cultural context—both in broader American culture and in the culture that exists at DePaul. Back in 2023, the US surgeon general made headlines when he declared loneliness a public health epidemic. In early 2024, a poll from the American Psychiatric Association found that “30% of adults [said] they have experienced feelings of loneliness at least once a week over the past year, while 10% [said] they are lonely every day. Younger people were more likely to experience these feelings, with 30% of Americans aged 18–34 saying they were lonely every day or several times a week.” [2] Considering the student population DePaul serves, these are essential statistics. A significant benefit of being a college graduate is an increased likelihood of having more friends, which provides cascading advantages over a lifetime. [3] This is a benefit we hope our students will derive from their time in our community. But forming and maintaining friendships in adulthood is so difficult that a specific branch of therapy, friendship therapy, has recently been created to address this need. Whole books are being written on how to make friendships work, and the New York Times even has a “friendship correspondent.” (That’s Anna Goldfarb, who has written an excellent book called Modern Friendship.)

Given the importance and difficulty of cultivating friendships, what can we learn from the Vincentian figures who excelled at this? They teach us that we should accept difficulty; just because their friendships were powerful doesn’t mean that they were easy to develop or maintain. When Louise first met Vincent, she felt accepting him as her spiritual director would be “repugnant.” Vincent did not want to be anyone’s director, and a curious two-year gap in an otherwise voluminous correspondence between them has led more than one scholar to believe there was a period of “coolness” in their relationship. [4] I highly recommend reading the published collections of the letters of the four Vincentian personages, which DePaul has made available online. [5] They show how affection within their relationships grew. There are two major threads running through all of them. First, these friendships were grounded not just in common interests but in a deep and common love (of God and of the poor) that was carried out in common enterprises. Second, the letters are supreme demonstrations of simplicity. Simplicity in the Vincentian sense usually means cultivating a deep sincerity, expressing a total alignment of our values, words, and behavior. But I think it could be extended to mean something else: profound openness about thoughts and feelings, in the sense of our internal states, in the sense of our affections, and in the sense of accepting the thoughts and feelings of others. Author and scholar Brené Brown has observed that the word courage “originally meant ‘to speak one’s mind by telling all one’s heart.’” [6] This is what we see happening in the lives and letters of our Vincentian forebears. They had the courage to practice simplicity.

So, Vincentian wisdom shows us that the best friendships are based on shared values and what might be called applied simplicity. We at DePaul have a particularly promising chance to strengthen relationships with those around us based on this wisdom. We are a community “gathered together for the sake of a mission,” so we know it is likely that others here share at least some of our deepest values. And if we practice simplicity, if we have the courage to make first moves and to be (appropriately) persistent, if we are open about what is in our hearts, then in time we can build the same types of friendships that sustained our Vincentian exemplars.

Reflection Questions:

  1. Who are the people who seem the likeliest partners in friendships for you? Are these people you need to reach out to, or are they people you already know? Where are the existing opportunities to deepen these relationships, and what are some ways you can create more?
  2. How have your friendships with colleagues at DePaul inspired and nurtured you? Is there anything you would like to accomplish as a joint effort with your friends?

Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

[1] Numerous articles have been written on the role of friendship in these Vincentians’ lives. In addition to those cited in other footnotes in this article, some of the best are Margaret J. Kelly, D.C., “The Relationship of Saint Vincent and Saint Louise from Her Perspective,” Vincentian Heritage 11:1 (1990): 77–114. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol11/iss1/6; Wendy M. Wright, “Elizabeth Ann Bayley Seton and the Art of Embodied Presence,” Vincentian Heritage 18:2 (1997): 249–60. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol18/iss2/9; Judith Metz, S.C., “The Key Role of Friendship in the Life of Elizabeth Bayley Seton,” Vincentian Heritage 29:1 (2009): 8–23. Available at: https://‌‌via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol29/iss1/2; and Frederick J. Easterly, C.M., “Frédérick Ozanam, A Layman For Now,” Vincentian Heritage 4:2 (1983): 140–71. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol4/iss2/4. If you visit Vincentian Heritage’s website at https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/, use “friend” as a search term to get results for many more.

[2] American Psychiatric Association, “New APA Poll: One in Three Americans Feels Lonely Every Week,” January 30, 2024, https://www.psychiatry.org/news-room/news-releases/new-apa-poll-one-in-three-americans-feels-lonely-e.

[3] Daniel A. Cox, “The College Connection: The Education Divide in American Social and Community Life,” Survey Center on American Life, December 13, 2021, https://‌www.americansurveycenter.org/research/the-college-connection-the-education-divide-in-american-social-and-community-life/.

[4] There’s some ambiguity about whether Louise mentions this repugnance specifically about Vincent as a person or just about changing directors in general. Louise de Marillac, document A.2, “Light,” n.d., Spiritual Writings, 1. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/ldm/; Hugh O’Donnell, C.M., “The Relationship of Saint Vincent and Saint Louise from His Perspective: A Personal and Theological Inquiry,” Vincentian Heritage 11:1 (1990): 62. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol11/iss1/5; Loretto Gettemeir, D.C., “Louise: A Life in Her Own Words,” Vincentian Heritage 12:2 (1991): 111. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol12/iss2/2/; see also O’Donnell, “Relationship of Saint Vincent and Saint Louise from His Perspective,” 69.

[5] For Vincent’s letters, see: https://via.library.depaul.edu/coste_en/. For Louise’s, see: https://via.library.depaul.edu/ldmlcd/. For Elizabeth’s, see: https://via.library.depaul.edu/seton_lcd/, and for Frédéric’s, see: https://via.library.depaul.edu/ozanam_law/.

[6] Brené Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are (Hazelden, 2010), 12.

How Do We Operationalize Dignity?

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

Some of you reading this may be familiar with the Chicago street named Ozanam Avenue, but how many know who this street is named after? Frédéric Ozanam was a French Catholic literary scholar, lawyer, professor, social advocate, and lay Catholic leader. Of all the Vincentian Family members, Ozanam has always had a special place in my heart. For me, he models something essential about how we can make our Vincentian mission concrete through our actions.

I first learned of Ozanam when I was a teenager at school in the UK. Inspired by the idea of a faith that does justice and eager to engage in community service, I had joined a school-based conference of the St. Vincent de Paul Society. Ozanam, as I soon learned, was the principal founder of the original society. He had founded the organization with a group of friends in 1833 while a university student. They named it after St. Vincent de Paul because he was considered “a national hero of social service” and admired by many in France, even those who were anti-Church. [1] The members’ goal was to help those who were poor, while at the same time developing their own faith. Keen to learn more about him, I happened upon a biography about Ozanam called Apostle in a Top Hat. Today, I might be inclined to be more discerning when choosing a biography. But at that time, the idea of interrogating a text for its authenticity was beyond me. For me, Ozanam represented a social justice icon and a man who was set on fire by a quest for faith and justice. His journey spoke deeply to my idealistic self. I devoured the book and have never forgotten the cover: a Victorian gentleman tipping an impossibly large top hat!

As I think back, our school-based St. Vincent de Paul Society was a modest entity. A motley crew of awkward, if well-meaning teenagers who, while moderately concerned about the state of the world, were primarily driven by the idea of long summer afternoons of not having to be in class. Our mission was to visit people in their homes who were seeking some kind of support, listen to them, and try to alleviate some of their needs with our adolescent vigor, then report back to the group on their well-being. We would also pray for, and sometimes with, those we visited. Our group was supported by a school chaplain, who could provide a higher level of intervention, if it was warranted.

Often, such home visits meant simply sitting with people in the humblest of homes and, in a show of true British hospitality, sharing a cup of tea, biscuits, and a listening ear, while they recounted the trials and tribulations of their days. While hardly backbreaking work or enacting any admirable social change, it was a powerful act of recognizing the dignity of another, and a way of saying, “We see you and we care.” We were grateful for the experience. We even got to feel somewhat proud of our adolescent selves, out serving in the community, no matter our real motivation for such engagement. In his time, Ozanam came to believe that face-to-face contact with poor families provided him with invaluable experiential learning, which in turn caused him to profoundly reshape his perceptions. My own experience of being a member of the St. Vincent de Paul Society also challenged my preconceived (and sometimes ill-informed) notions of poverty and social deprivation and reinforced for me the essentiality of interpersonal connection.

Today, the St. Vincent de Paul Society continues to be active in 155 countries. It has 800,000 members across 48,000 conferences, along with 1.5 million volunteers and collaborators. They serve over 30 million people worldwide every day. Conferences are based in churches, schools, community centers, hospitals, etc. [2] Their mission continues to be to offer support to people in need, particularly those living in poverty. The home visit remains an integral part of the service they provide. In this way, their ministry harkens back to the time of Ozanam when members would take firewood, food, and money to the homes of those who were poor. Yet, even in the days of the original conferences, it was never about the firewood, or the provision of goods, or funds. Rather it was about the compassionate spirit with which the members approached the visits. While certainly home visits were never the most efficient way to deliver assistance, they served as an important way to honor the dignity of the other by providing a moment of true presence and care, in a world that was often too busy to take the time to invest in such relationality. It is the spirit of love, respect, justice, hope, and joy that still defines this work, through which the members strive to shape a more just and compassionate world.

Admittedly, making home visits can be personally inconvenient and can even feel a little awkward. However, this simple act of humanity can transform a transactional service delivery into a meaningful encounter of mutuality, thus inviting a bond of intimacy, which no technological operation could ever provide. As Ozanam recognized, personal visits were a point of mutual exchange where both the visitor and the visited were beneficiaries. [3] This model of the home visit further hearkens back to the legacy of Vincent de Paul and the familiar story of the white tablecloth, a metaphor that calls us to approach all we do with the utmost care for the dignity of others. [4]

So, what wisdom might the humble home visit offer to us at DePaul today? In addressing this, I find myself recalling a question that a faculty member once posed to me after she had read DePaul’s new mission statement: “Dignity is a great concept, but how do we operationalize it?” I believe that the wisdom of the home visit can help us address this complex question, since the same personalism lies at its very heart and is modeled at DePaul each and every day. For, while the provision of concrete resources to help address a need is essential, it is the gift of sincere listening and a compassionate heart that defines us and makes all the difference.

Essentially, it is the spirit of love, respect, care, and empathy, and the commitment to right relationship that must inform how we support our students—and each other—at DePaul. Personalism must never be overshadowed by a mentality of just getting the job done in the most efficient way possible if it crowds out the personhood of those standing in front of us. Indeed, personalism must continue to define any institution that calls itself Vincentian. While efficiency and effectiveness are certainly important, personalism must continue to shape who we are and inform who we are called to be, just as it did in the time of Ozanam, and certainly in the days of Vincent and Louise before him. We come from a rich tradition, and it is up to us to live out its rich legacy.

Reflection questions:

  1. When was the last time you encountered personalism at DePaul?
  2. What might it look like for efficiency and personalism to exist seamlessly at DePaul?

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

[1] Thomas McKenna, C.M. “Frédéric Ozanam’s Tactical Wisdom for Today’s Consumer Society,” Vincentian Heritage 30:1 (2010): 11. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol30/iss1/1.

[2] “Where Are We?” International Confederation of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, accessed January 29, 2025, https://www.ssvpglobal.org/where-we-are/.

[3] McKenna, “Frédéric Ozanam’s Tactical Wisdom,” 16.

[4] See “The Story of the White Tablecloth,” posted August 15, 2011 by Mission and Ministry DePaul University, YouTube, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0CgJVAC7Na8.

What Anchors You … and Us?

 

Reflection by: Mark Laboe, Interim Vice President, Mission and Ministry

A very influential and helpful idea on my personal spiritual journey emerged for me decades ago when I read This Blessed Mess: Finding Hope Amidst Life’s Chaos by Patricia Livingston. The simple yet profound main idea that captured my attention and that I internalized was this: just as God created life, love, and beauty out of darkness and chaos (see Genesis), so must we be agents of the ongoing creative process in our own lives, during which we often face moments of chaos. Furthermore, there is a creative energy that is present within the chaos of our lives that can ultimately become transformative and life-giving. Grasping this idea conceptually is one thing, but living it is another.

Fortunately, life inevitably provides a lot of practice by bringing us situations that feel like chaos again and again over the course of a lifetime. This might take the form of heartbreaking and tragic losses, illness and injury, or seemingly impossible situations in which the whole world seems to be against us. We may also have to deal with the painful aftermath of harmful human decisions and actions, whether our own or those of others (such as war and violence, greed, or ego-driven and self-centered behaviors). Whatever form it takes, the word “mess” is an unfortunately adequate description for what we often face in our lives. How could this “mess” possibly be “blessed”?

One piece of adult wisdom that helps us get through such moments comes in remembering simply that “this too shall pass.” I have heard it suggested that the difference between the child and the adult is that that adult knows the moment will pass. A child or adolescent is without the life experience to know that a painful life situation will eventually give way. Christian theology holds the profound understanding of the paschal mystery, modeled in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, to understand that there is hope and the potential for new life and redemption on the other side of death and suffering.

In fact, each “blessed mess” offers us an opportunity to clarify and define who we are and who we will become moving forward from that difficult moment. It is an opportunity to create and re-create our lives, grounded in the values and actions we know or believe to be good, true, and beautiful, and for the betterment of humanity. Victor Frankl, the famous Holocaust survivor, is known to have said that “everything can be taken from a (person) but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” [1]  Though I may first complain and cry in the face of chaos, sometimes I can also then laugh out loud when things start piling up on me and I realize that I am more… and life is more… than what I am experiencing in that moment. I am encouraged when I consider the freedom that I have to choose how I will face it.

Moments of “chaos” lead me repeatedly to the question: What anchors and guides me now and ultimately? What values and commitments do I want my life to reflect, and do I want to choose to live into in this moment? Which are most consistent with who I know myself to be and believe I was created by God to become? And how can we answer these questions in applying them to ourselves as a community?

Institutions and communities go through similar moments. Yet, making a shared commitment or “attitude adjustment” as a collective is quite a bit more complicated than just deciding to do so for oneself. It can be work, and it can require patience, empathy, generosity, love, and courage to get all on the same wavelength. Yet, having a shared mission to draw on can help a community like ours at DePaul. As we move through difficult and uncertain moments, our periods of chaos can become opportunities for clarification, for remembering and re-committing to each other, and for carefully discerning the values and sense of vocation that anchor and guide us.

I have often heard two related African proverbs quoted that emphasize the communal nature of the human person. They serve as important reminders about how we may best move through communal moments of chaos. One states that “no one goes to heaven alone,” and another is, “If you want to go fast, go alone, and if you want to go far, go together.” In a society and world that is so often individualistic or that struggles to bridge divides, such a communal mindset is countercultural. However, at DePaul, we often point to an understanding that we are a “community gathered together for the sake of the mission.” This is a modern take on the initials C.M. for Congregation of the Mission, the apostolic community we may better know as the Vincentians, established by Vincent de Paul. Our mission, therefore, offers us the encouragement and the charge to be countercultural in working and caring for the good of the whole, rather than simply defending our own individual positions or being satisfied simply with “going it alone.”

To move through moments of chaos in our lives, then, we benefit from seeing them as opportunities to anchor ourselves more deeply in what is most important and most true to who we are, and to do so together with others. The moment will pass, and we will endure. The question that remains throughout it all is who we will become in the process. Such moments reveal the ultimate gift and test of our human freedom, our identity, and our mission.

Reflection by: Mark Laboe, Interim Vice President, Mission and Ministry

[1 ]Dave Roos, “Viktor Frankl’s ‘Search for Meaning’ in 5 Enduring Quotes,” June 7, 2024, howstuffworks.com, at: https://history.howstuffworks.com/historical-figures/viktor-frankl.htm.

Love Shows Up in Community

Reflection by: Erin Herrmann, Associate Director, Writing Center

Photo by Mike Labrum, Unsplash.com

“I believe that you work with one another to grow in perfection in keeping with the divine plan. All the actions of our lives can serve this purpose even those which might appear destined to withdraw you from that intimate union with God which you so ardently desire. Very often this union is established in us through no action of our own in a manner known only to God and not as we would wish to imagine it.” — Louise de Marillac[1]

When I began my role at DePaul in the summer of 2017, I was excited but also nervous. As an associate director, I felt responsible to represent the Writing Center well. As I started attending meetings with people from departments across campus, I felt intimidated; everyone knew so much and knew one another quite well. What could I contribute to this tight-knit community as someone so new, practically still an outsider?

Fast forward to autumn quarter 2024, which was perhaps my busiest quarter to date in my time at DePaul. Now in my eighth academic year, I found this quarter offered numerous ways in which I could readily contribute as part of the vibrant DePaul community: teaching two courses on top of my full-time staff role, serving as chair of the Communication Committee for Staff Council, and completing training as a staff professional for FY@broad with Study Abroad. While these commitments meant significant time and seemingly innumerable meetings and tasks added to my calendar, they also shared something else in common. These opportunities, alongside my daily work in the Writing Center collaborating with colleagues and supporting our student employees, were purposefully busy.

I define purposefully busy as those tasks that are more than productivity; rather, they are people-centered activities that enable me to serve others through the work. All the while, I, too, am being fed through my interactions with students, faculty, and staff who offer care and collaboration. As Saint Louise de Marillac says in the quote above, we must work with one another to fulfill our purposes.

In my life outside of work, I was experiencing emotional difficulty during autumn quarter. I walked through the final denouement of a long-term relationship in which I’d long held hope for a shared future. The fullness of my days attending to the numerous purposes I engaged in at DePaul offered a meaningful focus, but the grief of loss lingered in the background, at times coming full force in my mind.

Then, grief showed up in perhaps its most recognizable form: on November 5, my Uncle Roger died. It was the day of the presidential election, a fraught, precipitous day for each of us, and all I could think was “My uncle died today.” While he had been in ill health for quite some time, it was one of those times where things moved quickly, in a matter of days, from hospice care to his passing. My uncle and his immediate family live in northeast Ohio; my closest family members live in the suburbs of Chicago. So, on a weekday, it wasn’t feasible to be together. I didn’t have anyone in the immediate vicinity or in the schedule of my day to hug me. I was deeply sad and felt rather alone.

But when grief shows up, so, too, does love.

In the days following my uncle’s passing, I shared with colleagues about the loss; I received more than one hug. I even shared with one of my classes, and a room full of students offered looks and words of compassion and comfort. On November 13, I attended the Gathering of Remembrance hosted by the Division of Mission and Ministry. While I feel like a well-connected DePaul community member at this point, this was the first time I had attended. I’d considered going in past years but hadn’t been able to fit it into my schedule. This year also required some schedule adjustment to make it work, but now that I was experiencing loss, this special event came just when I needed it most.

At the event, I saw many faces I know and many I have come to cherish. Most were people from various parts of my “extra-curricular” life at DePaul, that is, not part of my official job description in the Writing Center but connected to me through engagement in our community. The staff members from Mission and Ministry hosted the event with such reverence, grace, and hospitality. The love in the room, even amid our tears, was palpable and comforting. At that point, I hadn’t yet seen anyone in my family since my uncle’s passing, but there I was surrounded by my Vincentian family nonetheless.

My purposefully busy autumn quarter ended with great fulfillment for me. My students were largely successful in their courses, and grades have been submitted. The Communications Committee of Staff Council has collaboratively published three newsletters to date. The training for FY@broad is complete, and I am ready to begin winter quarter with preparing an intrepid group of students for our trip to Ireland over spring break. I continued therapy and reflection, and my heart has started to recover. I said yes to the beautiful invitation for community when faced with loss.

The people within my Vincentian family and the DePaul community are the throughline—the accompaniment we offer to one another is beyond what I ever could have imagined when I first came here. It must be, as Saint Louise believed, that our unions to God and to one another are “… established in us through no action of our own in a manner known only to God.” God knew what he was doing in bringing me to DePaul and in bringing the DePaul community to flourish in my life.

Considerations for Reflection:

  • How is being purposefully busy different from just being busy? Do you see yourself engaging in being purposefully busy?
  • How have you experienced love in times of grief?

Reflection by: Erin Herrmann, Associate Director, Writing Center

[1] L.531B, “To Sister Carcireux,” July 18 (1656), Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, 514. Available at:  https://via.library.depaul.edu/ldm/.

A Season of Hope, Peace, Love and Joy

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

Several weeks ago, a crowd gathered to celebrate the holidays at DePaul’s annual tree lighting ceremony. This year the celebration continued as hundreds made their way from the tree lighting to the Lincoln Park Student Center to participate in Holidays Around the World. As part of DePaul’s commitment to honoring and supporting the spiritual and religious dimensions of our community, this event gave students an opportunity to learn about the multifaith and interconvictional traditions that so many within the university community embrace. Nearly 600 students engaged in activities or sampled the holiday foods from a multitude of faith or spiritual traditions. One of the Christian traditions that was highlighted in Holidays Around the World was Advent.

As a child, I loved Advent! I did not understand that Advent was celebrated in many Christian churches on the four Sundays leading up to Christmas. I didn’t realize that this was a Christian liturgical season that marked the beginning of the Christian calendar. I had no clue that the four candles on the Advent wreath that were lit week by week each carried an Advent message of hope, peace, love, or joy. Instead, I loved Advent because I knew it meant that we needed to get ready for Christmas: trees needed to be cut down and decorated, cookies needed to be baked and iced, and lists of Christmas wishes needed to be sent off to dear Santa. I knew that when the Advent wreath magically appeared at the front of the church, we had a lot to do in preparation for Christmas.

For Christian communities that embrace Advent, it is, indeed, a time of preparing for Christmas. But the preparation is not about wrapping gifts or putting up decorations. Instead, Advent is known as a season for preparing one’s heart for the birth of Christ. And more importantly, it is a time of waiting and watching for the coming of the Kingdom of God, a time when all will know hope, peace, love, and joy.

Unfortunately, as we begin this Advent season, we are also deeply embedded in a season of tumult and strife. In these times, many may find themselves watching and waiting for the things that Advent promises but struggling because of a sense of hopelessness, a keen awareness of a world that is not engulfed in peace, and disappointment because joy in a hurting world seems impossible and love for neighbor is thwarted by differences or indifference. It is in times such as these that “God offers us the saints both for our imitation and comfort. We can imitate their spiritual strengths and take comfort in their difficulties.”[1]

For the Vincentian community, we look to Saint Vincent and Saint Louise and are reminded that they, too, lived in tumultuous times. During their lives, Paris was growing daily with masses of people flooding into the city. There was political unrest, with royalty being forced to flee their homes and responsibilities. Invasions and social unrest caused strain on the military. Religious differences caused great schisms among the people. Natural disasters, such as tremendous flooding, increased the societal issues of

poverty, homelessness, crime, and overflowing prisons. Amid this tumult, Vincent and Louise lived in hope and committed their waking moments to helping bring peace, joy, and love into their world. They worked tirelessly to be the very ones who ushered in a new Kingdom, a transformed world.

In this season of watching, waiting, and preparing for a transformed world, we are encouraged to imitate Vincent and Louise. As imitators, we do not lose heart but instead become agents of transformation, encouraging hope in ourselves and others, working toward peace in our communities and the world, and offering love and spreading joy daily.

Things to ponder:

  1. How can you transform your own world? Where do you find hope, and how can you share that hope with others?
  2. What can you do to create peace in your world or your community?
  3. How can you express love through your daily actions? Where do you find joy, and how can you share that joy?

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

 

[1] Quoted from John E. Rybolt, C.M., Advent and Christmas Wisdom from St. Vincent de Paul (Liguori, MO: Liguori Publications, 2012), 128 pp.

The Dignity of Help

Written by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

Photograph by Akhil Nath.

Our mission here at DePaul focuses on helping others, especially those who have been historically underserved—the poor and the marginalized. It’s a wonderful mission, a noble mission. But I wonder how many of us also need help, and if we do, whether we are able to ask for it. Our own situations may not be as serious as those our mission calls us to aid, and we may not need advocacy or material support. But it’s likely that we need other things—assistance with work projects, perhaps, or, in our personal lives, help with caregiving, or managing burnout, depression, or grief. “Let me know how I can help,” we say when others are in trouble. But when we’re on the receiving end of such offers, we often don’t take people up on them.

In her book The Gifts of Imperfection, professor and social worker Brené Brown writes, “One of the greatest barriers to connection is the cultural importance we place on ‘going it alone.’ Somehow we’ve come to equate success with not needing anyone.” She continues, “Until we can receive with an open heart, we are never really giving with an open heart. When we attach judgment to receiving help, we knowingly or unknowingly attach judgment to giving help.” Brown argues that it’s a mistake to “deriv[e] self-worth from never needing help and always offering it.” [1]

In reading Brown’s words, I was struck by how well they connect with the philosophy of the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul. Its founder, Frédéric Ozanam, once said that help “humiliates when there is no reciprocity” and “becomes honorable because it may become mutual.” [2] Ozanam and Brown argue that help has a spiritual value beyond what is provided by immediate assistance. It allows people to connect with each other (and, Ozanam would say, with God) in a profound and meaningful way. Because of this, there is as much dignity in asking for help as there is in receiving it. It’s a lesson that runs counter to our cultural expectations, but it’s an important one to remember and internalize. The next time we may be feeling overwhelmed or alone, we should consider how we might challenge ourselves to more readily ask for help.

Reflection Questions:

Is there anything that you need help with? Whom could you ask for help, and how do you think they might respond?

Can you think of situations in the past where someone has asked you for help? How did you feel about the request? Did it make you feel more connected to that person?


Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

[1] Brené Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are (Hazelden, 2010), 20.

[2] Quoted in Raymond L. Sickinger, “Frédéric Ozanam: Systemic Thinking, and Systemic Change,” Vincentian Heritage 32:1 (2014): n.p. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol32/iss1/4/.

Welcome Joyfully the Opportunity to Serve

Written by: Euan Hague, PhD, Vincent de Paul Professor of Geography and Director of the School of Public Service and the Student Urban Research Corps. Recipient of the Cortelyou-Lowery Award from the College of Liberal Arts and Social Sciences in 2024.

Group photo of SURC and community members from the SURC Showcase, September 2024

In a letter to Monsieur Horcholle written in June 1650, Vincent stated, “I will always welcome joyfully any opportunity that comes my way to be of service to you.” [1] Service to others runs through DePaul in all its aspects and operations. But what does it mean to serve, and how should service to others be pursued? In over twenty years as a faculty member, I have put service to the community at the center of my own teaching and scholarship. The challenge is always the relationship between the “opportunities that come my way to be of service,” the manner in which we serve others, and the coordination of that work. Community collaborations are not one-off meetings; they need consistent negotiation and management, both with the organization and with the students working on projects. Such work is itself service, because through it we channel the personalism and Vincentian commitment that “it is not enough to do good. It must be done well.” [2]

In 2021, with support from an external funder, I conceived of the Student Urban Research Corps, which I now lead. It is housed in the College of Liberal Arts and Social Sciences. Each year, a group of fifteen to twenty undergraduate and graduate students take on service projects to bring their skills into practice, working on community-defined research projects that assist organizations in their missions. From helping Lucky Jefferson to assess the publishing landscape faced by Black and other ethnic minority authors, to mapping the impactful events delivered by Kids Enjoy Exercise Now (KEEN), in the past three years SURC projects have aided a dozen community organizations. In some instances, a community organization reaches out, not knowing quite what they want or how to achieve it, but knowing that something is needed, and that they would like DePaul’s support to attain it. In those cases, I meet with the organization, listen, learn about their needs and community, and make suggestions about the capacities and skills sets that our students can bring to understanding an issue. In other cases, I return to an organization that I’ve partnered with in the past, or an organization that I have become familiar with through other interactions and ask what projects would help to build capacity. In these conversations, I echo Madame de Gondi’s asking of Vincent, “What must be done?” [3]

Prof. Hague working with students: Lacy Wright, who is seated, and Chris Impellizeri, who is standing. Photo by Keeton Holder/DePaul University

Communities and their members know about themselves. Most do not want academics to impose agendas or questions on them. Rather, we serve by offering help to answer questions, to collaborate on finding solutions, and to enhance the capacity of groups to make decisions about their own futures. Students learn through engaging with organizations and interacting with the community members who have questions to ask and conversations to pursue. “Being able to work with and for community members and organizations through SURC has been a great opportunity to participate in social science research that is truly community-driven,” says Beata Neidhoefer (LAS ’25). “As a sociology major interested in research, I’m wary of the history of social science research as a process often detached from real peoples’ interests and needs. SURC provides a uniquely direct connection between community needs and student researchers’ skills, enabling us to use what we learn in the classroom in an applied, practical way while building technical and transferable skills and building professional relationships with community members.”

Whether DePaul faculty bring the community, through its members, onto DePaul’s campus, or go out, like Vincent, into the community to serve, the common aspect is that it takes work and an investment of time and energy from all parties. It takes time to build trust and collaborations, sometimes months or even years, and it takes time to work on projects that serve both the outcomes of the community and enhance student learning. Yet, this service follows another of Vincent’s calls to action: “Let’s work, let’s work, let’s go to the assistance of the poor country people who are waiting for us.” [4] Although I don’t think underserved and underrepresented communities are necessarily “waiting for us” in 2024, the call to go to assistance still resonates. We cannot only wait for opportunities to serve to come to us. We should seek out places where we can help, where our expertise and resources can make a difference in neighborhoods and communities across Chicago and beyond. Academic institutions are often derided as ivory towers where detached faculty and students talk and write esoterically about subjects. DePaul is different. Our mission, with its commitment to give “special attention to including underserved and underrepresented communities,” is central to the identity of the institution, which means it is central to the work we do as faculty, staff, and students at DePaul. To serve means to collaborate, to learn from residents and community groups, and to share DePaul’s resources, skills and expertise, with both professionalism and personalism.

“You can give me no greater consolation nor render greater service to your neighbor than to place yourself in a condition to serve him for a long time,” Vincent wrote to Jean Martin in May 1648. [5] DePaul has been serving Chicago since 1898. We and our students continue to serve.

Reflection Questions:

  • What does it mean to “welcome joyfully any opportunity that comes [your] way to be of service” in your work at DePaul?
  • How does your commitment to Vincent’s demand to go to the assistance of the poor reflect in your career at DePaul?

Reflection by: Euan Hague, PhD, Vincent de Paul Professor of Geography and Director of the School of Public Service and the Student Urban Research Corps. He received the Cortelyou-Lowery Award from the College of Liberal Arts and Social Sciences in 2024.

[1] Letter 1230a, “To Monsieur Horcholle, in Neufchâtel,” June 28, 1650, CCD, 4:41. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/29/.

[2] This popular quote cited often at DePaul is a rephrasing of Vincent’s words. For the full quote, see: Conference 177, “Repetition of Prayer,” November 25,1657, CCD, 11:389. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/37/.

[3] This is also a popular rephrasing. For the full quote, see: Conference 1, “The Vocation of a Missioner,” CCD, 11:3.

[4] Conference 177, “Repetition of Prayer,” CCD, 11:391.

[5] Letter 1037, “To Jean Martin, in Genoa,” May 22, 1648, CCD, 3:312. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/28/.

Navigating These Moments: A Call to Compassion

Written by: Victoria Van Kirk Pride, Associate Director of Housing Operations

As we approach the results of a pivotal election, it feels like we’re all holding our breath—like the feeling of waiting for the “L” during rush hour on a crammed platform, surrounded by a vibrant mix of humanity and a soundtrack of varied conversations. Each of us comes from different stops along the transit map, carrying our hopes, convictions, goals, and perhaps a touch of anxiety—all striving to reach our destinations while keeping in step with the pace of the city and one another.

Amid this swirling energy and the heightened stress of the times, we are reminded of Saint Vincent de Paul’s words: “It is not enough to do good. It must be done well.” [1] This quote serves as a powerful call to action, urging us not only to act but to do so with intention. In these uncertain times, responding with compassion and understanding is essential. A little kindness can be one of the most effective antidotes to the emotions of the moment, helping us navigate the challenges we face together.

Our DePaul community thrives on its diversity, weaving together a rich tapestry of voices and experiences. Regardless of the election’s outcome, each of us plays a vital role in picking up the pieces and fostering meaningful conversations—we have to take care of one another. Recognizing and valuing our diverse perspectives is crucial, especially for those who may feel marginalized. Sharing an hour for coffee with a classmate who sees things differently, or supporting those who feel sidelined, can create real change. These small gestures add up and are like the stops on our beloved “L” line—each one helps map out our journey, guiding us through the complexities of our shared experience.

Let’s acknowledge that this election cycle has felt long and dramatic. The constant barrage of news headlines and social media clips makes it hard to sift through the noise for substance. It’s normal to feel a whirlwind of emotions—anxiety, excitement, disbelief—especially when our perspectives differ. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, take a moment to breathe deeply and honor those feelings. Go for a walk in Lincoln Park, journal your thoughts to process any lingering frustration, or strike up a Teams chat or text thread with a DePaul friend or two to lift your mood or make you laugh—surely you can find a hilarious GIF to share apropos to the times we are in.

As we navigate this uncertain terrain, let’s remind ourselves of the Dalai Lama’s wisdom in quoting a favorite West African proverb: “If you think you’re too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.” This somewhat humorous reminder underscores that even the smallest actions or intentions can create impacts or ripples of change, especially during challenging times when every effort to engage, support, and uplift one another matters more than ever. Let’s turn to one another for support and understanding to connect our personal experiences to collective action.

So, regardless of the outcome, let us reflect on our roles here in our Vincentian community. How can you embody the spirit of Vincent in your daily interactions? What steps can you take to foster understanding and rebuild respectful connections within your circles? Share your ideas with friends, join a campus group focused on dialogue, or even write a reflection on your experience this election season. Every voice matters in shaping our community.

Together, we can embrace the challenges ahead, finding strength in our shared values and humor, reminding ourselves that while adversity is inevitable, our response is a choice that shapes our community.

Reflection Questions:

  1. How can I actively contribute to creating a more inclusive community through and after the election?
  2. In what ways can I approach conversations with empathy and a bit of warmth?
  3. What small, intentional actions can I take this week to support those who feel overlooked?

Reflection by: Victoria Van Kirk Pride, Associate Director of Housing Operations

[1]  This popular quote at DePaul is a slight rephrasing of Vincent’s words. For the full quote, see: Conference 177, “Repetition of Prayer,” November 25,1657, CCD, 11:389. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/37/.

Beyond Polarization: Seeing the God in All of Us

I am writing this reflection in September 2024, well before Election Day, but still in the thick of American political passion. Regardless of the election’s outcome, it’s unlikely that the result will end the sense of overall polarization in our country caused by a myriad of issues, polarization that has been evident even in our own DePaul community over the past year. No matter which candidate people support, it sometimes seems difficult to believe that those who support the opposing candidate might share a similar sense of justice or morality. And yet this very feeling makes it all the more important for us to believe that they do. But why is this?

One reason is because it seems to be true. In an article for Time, journalist Karl Vick reports the results of several studies of American attitudes and how those translate into politics. He writes that in January 2021, a study surveying 2,000 people across the political spectrum asked them to consider fifty-five separate goals that the nation should have, and to rank them according to what was important to them personally and according to how important they believed other people thought they were. The results were surprising. For instance, the goal to “successfully address climate change,” was the third highest priority for the survey participants themselves, but these respondents ranked it thirty-third in their perception of its importance for other people. As Vick writes, “no one thought their fellow Americans saw climate as the high-priority item nearly everyone actually considered it to be.” This study, the American Aspirations Index, “found ‘stunning agreement’ on national goals across every segment of the U.S. population, including, to a significant extent, among those who voted for Donald Trump and those who voted for Joe Biden.” The polarization we have been hearing about on the news is something one scholar calls “learned divisiveness,” which is almost a self-fulfilling prophecy: people believe there’s more division than actually exists, and that, in turn, fuels further division. We would do well to keep this in mind before we vilify those who we believe think differently from us. [1]

Goodness transcends opposing viewpoints; justice is more than politics. We don’t have to look far into our Vincentian heritage to find reinforcement for this lesson. For example, Frédéric Ozanam, the key founder of the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul, knew it well. The nineteenth-century France he lived in was also bitterly divided into partisan groups. But he never lost sight of what this conflict was really about. He wrote:

“For, if the question which disturbs the world around us today is neither a question of political modalities, but a social question; if it is the struggle between those who have nothing and those who have too much … our duty to ourselves as Christians is to throw ourselves between these two irreconcilable enemies … to make equality as operative as is possible among men; to make voluntary community replace imposition and brute force; to make charity accomplish what justice alone cannot do.” [2]

If we are to work together to better our society, we must be prepared to approach each other with tolerance, at least. Vincent de Paul would go one step further: he would have us approach one another with love, looking for the goodness—and, indeed, the God—that exists in all of us. As he once said, “I have to love my neighbor as the image of God and the object of His Love.” [3] He pointed out that it’s easy to show respect to people we love and who think like us. But he asked,

“Have we felt less esteem and affection for certain persons? Do we not, from time to time, allow thoughts of this more or less? If that’s the case, we don’t have that charity which dismisses the first feelings of contempt and the seed of aversion; for, if we had that divine virtue, which is a participation of the Sun of Justice, it would dispel the mists of our corruption and make us see what’s good and beautiful in our neighbor in order to honor and cherish him for them.” [4]

So, as our future unfolds, let us follow one more of Vincent’s injunctions and “continue to offer one another to God and to love each other in Our Lord, as He has loved us.” [5]

Reflection Questions:

Has the polarization that seemingly permeates our society affected your view of others? How so? What are some ways you could look for the good in those with opposing viewpoints?


Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

[1] All quotations in this paragraph are taken from Karl Vick, “The Growing Evidence That Americans Are Less Divided Than You May Think,” Time, July 2, 2024, https://time.com/6990721/us-politics-polarization-myth.

[2] Quoted in Craig B. Mousin, “Frédéric Ozanam―Beneficent Deserter: Mediating the Chasm of Income Inequality through Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity,” Vincentian Heritage 30:1 (2010): 62. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol30/iss1/4/.

[3] Conference 207, “Charity (Common Rules, Chap. 2, Art. 12),” May 30, 1659, CCD, 12:217. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/36/.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Letter 1663, “To Nicolas Guillot, in Warsaw,” October 10, 1653, CCD, 5:28. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/30/.

Dreams, Visions and Inspiration

Harriet Tubman

In sacred texts and in artistic narrative of all types, I have long been struck by the role and nature of dreams and visions. [1] We refer to what we experience while asleep as “dreams,” but we also refer to the conscious visions and hopes we have for the future with the same word. [2] In other languages or cultural discourse this overlap is intensified in that the same word can refer to visions which occur while asleep, awake, or somewhere in-between. In Muslim tradition this can be captured by (among others) the Arabic word ru’ya. In the Irish language and literary tradition there is the concept of the aisling [3] Whether drawing from the conscious, the subconscious, or from some combination of the two, these are ways in which our imagination grapples with envisioning a future different than the present. In many spiritual traditions, these visions are understood to be forms of communication with the Divine, and to reflect realities which are deeper than those of the material world alone. [4] A most famous example of this in our Vincentian tradition is the lumière experience of Saint Louise de Marillac. [5]  

In the recently published Night Flyer: Harriet Tubman and the Faith Dreams of a Free People, Tiya Miles writes movingly about the dream visions of the famous abolitionist and activist. [6] Drawing from the historical evidence we have about Tubman’s visions and attempting to understand them in the context of her life experiences and worldview, Miles traces the evolution of those dreams. Starting from nightmarish visions of being chased by white men on horseback, which communicated to her the notion that she must prepare to get away, the visions did not stop. They eventually would include a vision of a ‘promised land’ to which she should flee, although for a long time she would often not make it. Finally, Tubman had dreams of being a bird flying above the landscape, being assisted to make it across the boundary by angelic figures dressed in white. Tubman understood these to be divine directives and promises of support, both human and otherworldly, in her tasks of pursuing liberation for herself and for others. 

The Prophet Muhammad [7] also said that his experiences of revelation began in dreams. Often after the dawn prayer, he would ask his companions if any of them had seen a good dream. This is undoubtedly a very intimate form of sharing, to share our dreams in whatever sense of the word, with others. In that sense it is like sincerely praying for others. Such intimacy requires great trust. In one narration, the Prophet said that precious good dreams should only be shared with those “whom one loves.” [8] As a community with a shared vision of the future, one which has room for the dreams of many different and diverse individuals, we might find these a powerful inspiration in times of trial and difficulty.  

The poet William Butler Yeats noted, “In Dreams Begin Responsibility.” [9] As we see with Louise, and with Harriet Tubman, having a dream was not a substitute for hard and uncomfortable work. Rather, a dream was what provided the inspiration and faith to engage in such work. As we begin a new year in a world always filled with great brokenness and with great potential for good, let us renew our connection to what inspires us and gives us hope. Let us renew our connections with this community.  

For Reflection:  

What are your dreams (waking or sleeping) as we begin a new academic year? What inspires you or gives you the faith to do the things which are hard or uncomfortable in your work? What other roles might dreams or intuitions/feelings play in terms of guidance? 


Reflection by: AbdulMalik Ryan, Assistant Director, Religious Diversity and Pastoral Care. 

[1] I also referred to this in a previous reflection: https://blogs.depaul.edu/dmm/2023/02/07/busy-persons-retreat-day-two-tuesday-february-7/.

[2] Such as when DePaul’s athletics department encourages us to “Dream Big,” see: https://‌depaul‌blue‌demons.‌‌‌com/feature/strategic-plan.

[3] For more on this see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aisling.

[4] Perhaps most famously in the story of Joseph, the son of Jacob (peace be upon him) in Genesis, and in the Qur’an.

[5] Earlier this year, Abigail Rampone shared this reflection on Louise’s lumière experience: https://‌blogs.‌depaul.‌edu/‌dmm/2024/05/02/doubt-certainty-and-louises-lumiere/.

[6] For more on this new book, see: https://tiyamiles.com/books/night-flyer-harriet-tubman-and-the-faith-dreams-of-a-free-people/.

[7] Peace Be Upon Him and all the Prophets of God.

[8] 91 Interpretation of Dreams, Sunnah.com, at: https://sunnah.com/bukhari:7044.

[9] William Butler Yeats, “Responsibilities,” January 1914, see: https://sacred-texts.‌com/‌neu/‌yeats/‌lpy/‌lpy080.‌htm.