Writing History in the Present

“There are no people in the world more obliged to do this than we are, nor any Community that should apply itself more to the external practice of heartfelt charity.”  – 207, Charity, Common Rules, Chap. II, Art. 12, 30 May 1659, CCD, 12:214.

Thus far, 2020 has been an historic year—for DePaul, for our nation and for our world. Importantly, it is a story that is still being written. Before us lies an opportunity in the weeks and months ahead to shape how this year will be remembered and described to future generations. The calendar year remaining will go a long way toward determining the net impact of this period on our human community for years to come. How will we be remembered? Will it be as a generation that rose to the challenge and became stronger and better as a result, or as one that allowed difficulties to cause further harm both in the present and for those who follow us?

After the deepened revelation of our fragile interdependence made evident during the COVID crisis, will we see our inherent connection to one another as a beautiful gift or as a dangerous threat? After the killing of George Floyd and the long legacy that predates his murderous death, will we be inspired to make concrete changes in our personal and collective lives, to actively seek to correct the systemic injustices of racism and make amends for their impact? After this tumultuous year, what will be the resulting vision and shared goals that guide our future efforts to create a flourishing society? Will examples of generosity, courage, and sacrificial love, service, and commitment become central to the storyline of 2020? Will their positive energy continue to ripple outward into the future? Will actions for a more just and inclusive society result in the transformation of policies, minds, and hearts?

The result will depend upon our doing the work of writing the history of 2020, which will be determined by our actions in the present. Indeed, as a Vincentian university community, “there are no people in the world more obliged to do this than we are, nor any community that should apply itself more…” to this work. We now have an opportunity to create and be shapers of our history, and to not just passively accept the circumstances of our life.

What is at the heart of the human community you want to live and work in, and that you want for future generations to remember? What would it mean for you to begin to work now toward that vision? How can we act today so that our university more fully lives out its unique Vincentian mission of service to society in the future? How can you begin to plant the seeds necessary for this future vision?


Mission and Ministry is Looking for your Input

VSI Calls for Proposals Related to Crises

The Vincentian Studies Institute would like to invite everyone from the DePaul community to participate in a special call to create and submit publishable materials dedicated to the unprecedented crises we have had to confront in 2020.  We are asking for your contributions in the hope that they help us to reflect on what has happened and is still happening.

Every type of production is welcomed: academic papers, short essays, poems, fiction, paintings, photographs, videos, etc. Individual or collective proposals are welcomed. Shorter works will be featured online, promoted by the Division of Mission & Ministry, and shared with the university community. Longer written works may be featured in a special collection published in the VSI’s scholarly journal Vincentian Heritage. We ask that you submit your Proposal or short summary of your intended contribution, to: nmichaud@depaul.edu Please do so before July 31, 2020. Proposals will be reviewed by the VSI board and you will be notified of their decision by August 21, 2020. Once accepted, final drafts of your contributed work must be received by January 15, 2021.

Seeds of Mission Campaign

  • What initiatives, stories, and people serve as authentic and striking examples of DePaul’s Vincentian mission for you? Please let us know by submitting your input to the: Seeds of Mission campaign
  • For a full description of the Seeds of Mission Campaign: Click here

Adjusting Your Approach

Considering our changing reality at DePaul and throughout the world, we are called to adapt and change with it. While not always an easy task, it is necessary to adjust our approach to our work or studies as circumstances change.

The image that accompanies this reflection is of Vincent sending forth Philippe Le Vacher to Algiers to continue an ongoing ministry to prisoners. Around 1652, Vincent wrote Philippe with some encouragement and advice concerning his ministry. In this letter Vincent advised his confrere to use a different approach, and said “it is not light they need but strength, and strength permeates through the external balm of words and good example.”1 Vincent suggested that Philippe not preach to the prisoners as he would the people in a countryside parish, but that he adjust his method and message in light of the realities of the population he served. Further, Vincent emphasized speaking kindly and performing good deeds. He believed that treating these prisoners humanely and building relationships was the key to supporting them in their challenges.

As our personal and professional lives continue to be disrupted, how are you adapting and adjusting to our evolving reality? If Vincent de Paul were writing a letter to you today, what advice would he give you on how to change your current messaging and behaviors to better serve students, colleagues, or others in our community who need support? How can you continue to put relationships at the center of your life as you adapt to new circumstances?


1) 1297, To Philippe Le Vacher, In Algiers, [1652], CCD, 4:127.

 

Reflection by:

Michael Van Dorpe, Division of Mission & Ministry

The Beauty of a Higher Purpose

Virtue is so beautiful and amiable that they will be compelled to love it in you, if you practice it well.1

In the remarkable short letter from which this quote was taken, Vincent responds to news that several of the missionaries would be travelling on a ship with “some heretics.” After briefly expressing his distress at what they may have to “endure from them,” Vincent spends the rest of the letter reminding them that this is God’s plan. He encourages them to use their best manners and “be careful to avoid every sort of dispute and contention.”2 Vincent expresses hope that an example of beautiful character will be “helpful” to all.

Muslims are now entering into the final week of the observance of Ramadan. Ramadan is normally a month filled with fasting, prayer, and charity; it has been this year as well, although in all other ways it has been different with mosques closed and social activity curtailed by the pandemic. In a traditional saying of the Prophet Muhammad (which he sources to John the Baptist) it is said, “the similitude of the fasting person is that of someone who is carrying a sack-full of musk in a crowd of people—all of them marveling at its fragrance (although they can’t see what has created it).”3

The experience of long days of fasting and nights of sporadic sleep risks making one impatient or hard to be around. However, we find that when undertaken with intention and perseverance, a connection to a higher purpose along with increased gratitude and vulnerability reveals a beauty in the fasting person that is attractive to those around them even if they don’t know the source of it. Such a state also increases generosity that rains upon us all, even upon those who may be seen as heretics in a particular time or place.

During times of difficulty and anxiety like those we are living now, it is tempting to be less patient, less compassionate, more selfish, or even divisive with each other, particularly with those who hold differing worldviews.

What are some practices or exercises you can engage in to remain grounded in a sense of higher purpose? Is there a foundational belief or perspective which enables virtue to emanate from you, such that its beauty and fragrance is enjoyed by and helpful to all whom you encounter?

 


1) 3032, To Philippe Patte, In Nantes, [November or December 1659], CCD, 8:209.

2) Ibid.

3) Jami at-Tirmidhi, Kitab al-Amthal (Chapter of Parables), Book 44, Hadith 3102. See: http://sunnah.com/urn/630960

 

Reflection by:

Abdul-Malik Ryan
Assistant Director and Muslim Chaplain
Religious Diversity and Pastoral Care
Division of Mission and Ministry

Seeing with Vincentian Eyes

You will attain this happiness if you practice faithfully humility, gentleness, and charity toward the poor…1

Vincent de Paul remembered the moment captured in the featured illustration as pivotal for him in transforming his sense of mission and vocation. The sacred dignity of this poor, dying peasant became evident to him. With Madame de Gondi’s help, Vincent came to realize there were many people like this who lacked vital spiritual and physical care, and that existing systems within both the Church and society routinely neglected their needs.

Over time, Vincent de Paul grew to be consistent in living the mission he professed. He encouraged his companions to look at reality through the perspective of those enduring poverty, those who suffered basic needs, or those who were routinely left out by the status quo of church, state, and society at the time. He would ask his community, in essence: What do these people need and how do our actions and decisions impact them? How can our resources be used to better serve them? Vincent further recognized the importance of forming leaders who shared his vision and were committed to this sense of mission. He envisioned a community of solidarity that surrounded and supported people in need, and in so doing, enabled all to flourish.

Compassion and care for those struggling with the effects of material and systemic poverty is essential to a Vincentian perspective. Their realities make a claim on us, inviting us to take action. They call us to make changes individually and collectively to address their immediate needs, as well as to confront the root causes of their suffering. This is what we are challenged to do when asking ourselves what has come to be known as the Vincentian question: “What must be done?”

The COVID-19 crisis and its aftermath have required us to make difficult decisions about what we value, as well as the vision we will pursue, both individually and collectively. Vincent’s example invites us to center the perspective of those in poverty, or of those suffering or in pain, and to care for them. Currently, this includes those facing the horrible effects of COVID-19, those who have died, those who have lost loved ones, or those struggling because of unemployment. Vincent’s vision ensures that all people experience a sense of human community and that they are given both the opportunities and resources necessary to flourish. For Vincent, safeguarding hope for those left behind or forgotten by society, especially those in dire conditions, was a necessary part of working for the good of all humanity.

How might “seeing with Vincentian eyes” shape our vision for how to respond to the current crisis? For the education we offer? For the way we go about business as a university? What does it invite you to consider in your work as a colleague, or in your role as a neighbor, citizen, or family member?


1 2787, To Sister Françoise Ménage, In Nantes, 12 February 1659, CCD, 7:471.

Reflection by:

Mark Laboe
Associate Vice President
Faculty and Staff Engagement
Division of Mission and Ministry

Reflection, Day Three: Resilient Creativity

By
Emily LaHood-Olsen
Vincentian Service & Formation Team
Division of Mission & Ministry

When my daughter gets older and asks me to recount life in a time of COVID-19, I will tell her about the day last week when we played in the courtyard in front of our building. Every time a neighbor walked outside, she would pick a dandelion, run toward them saying, “Hi!” and try to hand them the flower. All the while, I gently held her back. I will share my fear that social distancing would severely impact her development—that it would teach her to fear the close contact of others or make her too dependent on screens for social interaction, that it might create a stunted understanding of community.

I will share with her the frustration and anger that bubbled up in the face of social inequity, the disregard of science and human life, the apparent inability to mobilize to get safety equipment to grocery store workers, public transit drivers, medical professionals, and hospital janitorial staff.

I will tell her that the word COVID, in a word, was resilience.

When all this began, I prepared myself for the trauma of these times. I expected to be inundated with news of COVID-related tragedy and prepared my spirit accordingly. What I did not expect was to grieve a perfectly normal, non-COVID death. Five weeks into quarantine, my father-in-law died from undetected bone cancer.

Since then, my husband and I have been navigating a complex, confusing state of mourning. We cannot fly to Washington to be with family or ritualize his passing. We cannot gather in person with our community to receive hugs or share memories. We cannot ask friends to babysit our little one so that we can take some time to simply be sad with one another. The lakefront, our church, and the coffee shop that brings us comfort down the street are all closed; and, we are living each day within the walls that carry our grief.

The plans we made to face the unknown at the onset of shelter-in-place are now completely out the window. We are learning a new kind of resilience.

This experience has prompted me to think about Louise and her journey. Louise experienced an incredible amount of grief and disappointment throughout her life. She was rejected by her family, deprived of her education when her father died, and denied her dream to become a Dominican nun. Although she felt marriage was not her calling, she entered into an arranged marriage. Her son had developmental issues that she did not have the resources to understand. Her husband grew incredibly ill, and she cared for him through his death.

Nothing in Louise’s early life went the way she planned; and yet, she remained resilient. This resilience equipped her to shatter the barriers that blocked her path.

Louise saw the needs of the world and responded in radically creative ways. In a society that offered only two options for women—marriage or cloistered religious life—Louise forged a new way. The Daughters of Charity were the first religious women to be out in the world, unconfined by convent walls, serving people on the streets. Oral history tells us that Louise “misplaced” the letter from the Vatican mandating that the Daughters should be a cloistered order.

Seeing that the Vincentian family understood the reality of those who were poor and marginalized, Louise bucked tradition and had the Daughters make their vows to the Vincentians, not to the Vatican. To this day, instead of making lifelong vows Daughters renew theirs annually.

In the face of a broken class system, Louise welcomed women from peasant families into her home, taught them how to read, and recognized the gifts that they could offer the community. This was unheard of for a woman of social class and means.

Louise’s faith and creativity made her open to new possibilities.

We are all learning new ways to foster resilience. Whether coping with feelings of isolation or weathering economic hardship or grieving the illness or death of a loved one, we’re forced to remind ourselves day after day that we can do hard things. And within these hard things, there is an opportunity to vision a world that has never existed before.

When this time of pandemic is over, our call as Vincentians will not be to return to life as usual. It will be to build the world we dream is possible.

A world that values people over profits and sees healthcare as an essential human right.

A world committed to healing our ailing planet instead of returning to fossil fuel dependence.

A world where neighbors delight in one another’s presence and know each other’s names.

In the midst of the unknown, we all have an opportunity to tap into our inner Louise, to build a sense of resilient creativity. Let us dream of the way the world could be, and give those dreams life in the face of hard times.

 

Reflection, Day Two: The Many Hats of Louise

By
Minister Jené Colvin
Religious Diversity & Pastoral Care Team
Division of Mission & Ministry

 

We have a confession. In planning for this week to honor St. Louise de Marillac today’s theme was “The Many Hats of Louise.” We wanted to focus on the wisdom we could glean from Louise in having to manage all the different roles in her life. She was a mother, a wife, a widow, a teacher, an organizer, a founder, a visionary, an innovator…you get my point. We love St. Louise. The list of adjectives and nouns that rejoice in her legacy are endless. Sometimes, though, when all the words used to describe Louise are listed together, it can be easy to forget she was not all those things all at once. Some of those descriptors do not overlap at all in her life’s story. Even those of us whose job it is to know Louise well enough to share her legacy with the rest of the DePaul community must remember that her descriptors reflect a journey rather than an ingredient list. Not all of those “hats” fit her indefinitely. Not all of them were worn at the same time.

When presented with all the things Louise was and still is to us today, we may think about all the things we are asked to be, the hats we are asked to wear. Student, worker, babysitter, teacher, parent, partner, child to parents who may or may not understand us, faithful member of a community we’ve always been a part of, leader, activist, artist, and so on. When we have so much to do, accomplish, and live up to, we may question how to care for ourselves while juggling our lives. How do I stay healthy and still show up? What wisdom do I rely upon to manage it all?

How did Louise balance it all? How do I balance it all? What if the answer is actually…don’t? Don’t balance it ALL. Hear me out.

Before “shelter-in-place” became an urgent, life-saving call, our lives and identities were arranged across different groups of people, offices, classrooms, organizations, and times of day. Most of us have had to jam all these pieces of our lives into a single living space. Instead of being in an office, parents are home laughing (and sometimes scoffing) at the idea of an uninterrupted hour. Some of us are far from friends who tenderly love our secrets. Some of us must do schoolwork and teach siblings. Some of us are just exhausted by how distressing this all is. Some of us are grieving behind computer screens instead of gathering with family. Some of us were already struggling. Instead of anything being new, it’s just more intense. Rather than being able to prepare, neatly pack, and sort out our lives so that we could social distance effectively, we had to stuff it all in one box, in a hurry. That’s hard.

Not all your hats will fit right now. That’s ok. Maybe you can still switch between hats but can’t wear them as long or as often as before. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not a lack of effort or will. It’s not a lack of dedication or drive. It is true that Louise was many things. She was all those things at different points in her life, to different degrees of completion, success, and peace. She failed sometimes. She was frustrated. She struggled, hard. Yesterday we focused on Louise’s lumière moment. Life changing revelatory moments don’t usually happen when everything is “fine.”

So, if you really want to glean something from the many hats Louise wore, ask yourself this:

  • How can I gently and with deep compassion love the parts of myself that are shaken and tender right now?
  • Which hats can I set aside for a while and which ones can I wear, without shame, until others or new ones fit?
  • What do I need to create the breathing room to ask myself, without shame, “Which hat for right now?”
  • How can I give myself space for the hat that does not produce the most, but helps return me to center?

Two of my favorite hats are “lover of tea” and “mother to many houseplants.” I adore being a minister. It’s been one of the greatest joys of my life. Yet, there are days I feel like I have to prune and replant for three hours all while drinking grapefruit oolong tea. I can do that, and then spend an additional hour kicking myself for not wearing the “minister” hat longer…or I can accept those three hours as a hat I desperately needed to wear.

The other hats will still be there. The ones that won’t, well, maybe as Louise found, it was time for a new one anyway.

Louise de Marillac Advises Mutual Support

Look at this woman in motion. As her spry steps fade, did you sense a breeze from the alacrity of her brisk and cheerful readiness? Yes, “We’ve seen this beautiful portrait.”(1) We recognize Louise de Marillac, friend and collaborator of Saint Vincent de Paul. Why do we still reminisce about her 360 years, or to be exact 131,490 days, after her death on 15 March 1660?

Working amid natural disasters, refugee crises, and public health catastrophes, Louise spoke candidly to those with whom she worked. “Who are we to think that we should be exempt from public evils?”(2) She instructed them not to “be impatient with…trials;” to acknowledge that they “will see a great amount of misery” among people which they cannot relieve.(3) Louise urged solidarity—“share their trials” and do whatever is possible “to provide them with a little assistance and remain at peace.”(4)

When circumstances separated Louise from her associates, she sought to be “creative to infinity,” not by sending tweets, but through friendly, hand-written messages.(5) For example, she wrote “I did not want to lose the opportunity to assure all of you that physical separation does not prevent spiritual presence among persons…united” by the bonds of a common mission.(6) Louise understood the difficulty of social distance, and the value of emotional connection for necessary mutual support. Those who knew Louise said that her life was “a mirror in which we have only to look at ourselves” for inspiration.(7) In probing her legacy, we discover the values that fueled her “thirst for justice.”(8)

Louise never knew her mother. She suffered heartache from family rejection. As wife and mother in an arranged marriage, she knew the pain of family conflict. As a widow she discovered God’s call to serve impoverished persons through home nursing, organized charity, educational opportunities, care for abandoned infants, and mentoring women to carry out the mission of the Daughters of Charity, which she, Vincent, and the first sisters developed together. We honor Saint Louise de Marillac, Patron of Social Workers, on her feast day of May 9.

In what ways could I help someone feel understood, connected, supported, and appreciated?

During our time of social distancing due to COVID-19, how could I promote mutual supportemotional care, solidarity, presence, and justice among us? How could I help others to feel less isolated?


  1. 119, The Virtues of Louise de Marillac, 24 July 1660, CCD, 10:582.
  2. L.353, To Sister Barbe Angiboust, (11 June 1652), Spiritual Writings, 396.
  3. Ibid.
  4. Ibid.
  5. 102, Vincent de Paul’s Exhortation to a Dying Brother, 1645, CCD, 11:131.
  6. L.628B, “To Sister Françoise Carcireux,” 15 September 1659, Spiritual Writings, 647.
  7. 118, The Virtues of Louise de Marillac, 3 July 1660, CCD, 10:577.
  8. A.30, (Meditation on the Hunger and Thirst for Justice), Spiritual Writings, 734.

 

Reflection by:

Betty Ann McNeil, D.C., Vincentian Scholar-in-Residence, Division of Mission and Ministry


Mission and Ministry Honors Louise de Marillac on the week of her Feast Day

The Division of Mission and Ministry honors Saint Louise de Marillac during this week leading up to her feast day (May 9th) with daily reflections on Louise’s living legacy:  Sign up here for daily emails this week, which will invite you to reflect on the relevance of Louise’s wisdom for today.

For more on Louise de Marillac, see these resources:

DePaul Community: Show Us the Way of Wisdom

“Go, learn how to free yourself and to be open to God’s will; let that be your lesson.” 205, Indifference, 16 May 1659, CCD, 12:197.

How long does it take for people to really learn something? To gain not just knowledge, but true wisdom? Does it happen in an instant? Or, does it require a lifetime?

How about six weeks? That’s the length of time it’s been since DePaul University closed its campuses in response to the coronavirus, and since our governor ordered everyone to stay at home for everything except essential activities. We have all been challenged by this global pandemic that threatens our health, forces us to stay socially distant, and upends so many of our daily routines. Have these circumstances taught us anything? Are there lessons to be learned from the many feelings—whether anxiety or boredom, loneliness, frustration, fear, or gratitude—we may have experienced at any given moment during this past month-and-a-half?

Vincent de Paul, no stranger to adversity and challenge, once told a group of his followers: “Go, learn how to free yourself and to be open to God’s will; let that be your lesson.” (CCD, 12:197)

Now is a good time to pause and heed Vincent’s counsel. Just for a moment, take a step back, free your mind, and ask “what lessons have emerged for me as a result of this trial? What truth am I being called to recognize?” If you listen to yourself, the answers to these questions will arise from within. And, they’ll be worth remembering long after this crisis passes.

We want to learn from you. If you are willing, please share the wisdom you may have gained in your experience of the coronavirus pandemic. Mission and Ministry will compile the responses we receive and share them with our university community. Thank you.


Reflection by:  Tom Judge, Chaplain for Faculty/Staff Engagement, Mission and Ministry

Connection Café: What’s in your COVID Journal?

Join us to share the wisdom you have gained and to listen and learn from others.

Wednesday, 4/29, 3:30-4:15 pm

For DePaul’s faculty/staff writers, poets, prayers, and thinkers of any level. What are you reflecting on, learning, and discovering while hunkering down and adapting your routines and lifestyle? Join us to hear the thoughts of your colleagues, and to share some of your own insights on what you may have discovered during this time. To register:

http://events.constantcontact.com/register/event?llr=qiic4w6ab&oeidk=a07eh1d8rw16889c233

The Creativity of Love

These are uncertain times—no surprise there. Globally, we are living a new reality, and our DePaul community is making intentional strides adjusting to the new “normal.” Yet, throughout this we can take heart in our Vincentian roots. Our common belief in what is good and beautiful gives us courage to live counter-culturally, simply by having hope amid despair. The words of St. Vincent point us towards innovation, “love is inventive to infinity.” (CCD, 11:131.)

Over the last month we have had to completely readjust, and even reclaim, the very culture of DePaul University. Doing so has required creativity and patience, as well as hearty doses of grace. Students, faculty, and staff have made the necessary sacrifices because we share a common love of our university and all it encompasses. Our common love and inventiveness have led to kitchen tables becoming classrooms, living rooms turned into libraries, and Zoom meetings as our new virtual offices. Each day we learn a new way to encounter one another that we may never have entertained before.

Love holds creative properties. It propels us into the present and provides the tools we need to face reality. One of the best things about love is that its power makes what we have more than enough. Love leads us as resourceful stewards in ways that are not only effective but sustainable. It invites us to simultaneously work and dream towards what is better. Our love for DePaul grants us the opportunity to push through uncertainty with confidence in our common mission, both as a university and a Vincentian Family. Because of this, we will continue to imagine novel ways to live and be together in facing a new global reality. After all, as Vincent de Paul reminds us, “love is inventive to infinity.”

How has the inventiveness of love surprised you over these last several weeks, both in our DePaul community and in broader society?

What are some ways that you are being invited to creatively share your gifts and talents with your community?

Reflection by:

Azucena “Ceni” De La Torre
Ministry Coordinator for Retreats & Catholic Faith Formation
Division of Mission and Ministry


Put the Creativity of Love into Action!

Vincentian Service Day

Saturday, May 2, 2020

Vincentian wisdom is inspiring a new way to carry on our 22nd annual Vincentian Service Day (VSD) tradition on Saturday, May 2. Given our current reality, this year Vincentian Service Day will look different but will continue our Vincentian spirit of responding to the reality and needs of the world in front of us with creativity and love.  Register now to participate remotely.  Help our DePaul community send out a ripple effect of love and creativity!

An Invitation to Love and Solidarity

As Louise de Marillac endured a particularly difficult trial in her life, Vincent once told her “Que j’ai peine de votre peine!” [How sorry I am about your suffering!] (CCD, 1:138.) While Vincent may have wished to eradicate the cause of Louise’s suffering, it was beyond his power. Instead, Vincent chose to accompany her, reassuring her of his love and unwavering support. This provided Louise with some level of comfort until the trial had passed. “In true compassion and honesty, heart spoke to heart.” (VH 12:2, 136.)

Today, as we confront the numerous challenges of the Coronavirus, we may feel overwhelmed. How do we respond to the pain and suffering in our own lives, in the lives of our families, our friends, neighbors and colleagues, and indeed, those affected globally? Vincent’s example of deep compassion and care for the many who suffered around him, particularly those who were poor and marginalized, may offer a compelling witness.

We are finding our way. At this most testing of times, many in our DePaul community are responding in truly innovative and pragmatic Vincentian ways, showing us the way of wisdom. Whether it be through donating personal protective equipment to local hospitals, using 3D printers to make face shields and mask covers, writing cards with messages of hope to seniors who are isolated, donating funds for those in need, or participating in university prayers for the well-being of our community and our world, in myriad ways DePaul is proving that “love is inventive to infinity.” (CCD, 11:131.)

During this time of global pandemic, how is your heart calling you to speak? If, today, you hear an invitation to engage in acts of love and solidarity, how might you respond?


Citations:

  1. 92, To Saint Louise, [1631], CCD, 1:138.
  2. Kneaves, “A Woman Named Louise,” Vincentian Heritage 12:2 (1991), 136. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol12/iss2/3/
  3. 102, Exhortation to a Dying Brother, 1645, CCD, 11:131.

 

By:

Siobhan O’Donoghue
Director, Faculty and Staff Engagement
Division of Mission and Ministry