Where the Streets Have No Name

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by.”[1]

DePaul University’s humble origin story began in 1898 when the Vincentians established Saint Vincent’s College to educate “the sons of Chicago’s burgeoning Catholic immigrant population.”[2] Since these early days, DePaul’s understanding of who we are called to be has continued to be formed and informed by pragmatic wisdom and visionary thinking. Indeed, the same innovative seeds that led to the establishment of “the little school under the el” continue to bear fruit today. By participating in processes such as Designing DePaul, we are once again being invited to help shape DePaul’s future.

Innovative thinking is certainly imprinted in our Vincentian DNA. One has only to consider the ministries of Vincent and Louise to see how they used their pioneering and imaginative spirits to develop creative solutions to the complex societal challenges of their day.

A particularly compelling example of this dynamic can be seen in the insightful way in which Vincent and Louise co-founded the community of religious women known as the Daughters of Charity. It is important to note that “in 1633, when Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac assembled the first Daughters of Charity, no community of women existed in France which worked outside the walls of the cloister.”[3] Such a restriction presented a challenge to the establishment of this community, since “Vincent de Paul wanted a company endowed with great mobility, in a position ‘to go everywhere,’ in direct service of the neighbor.”[4] Thus, the Daughters needed to have the freedom to serve on-site, in such ministries as visiting the sick in their homes or in hospitals, caring for wounded soldiers on the battlefield, or tending to the galley prisoners. Consequently, confining the Daughters’ movements to the cloister was incompatible with their purpose.

Confronted with this incongruity, Vincent and Louise chose to break with the norms of the other communities they saw around them and create a different kind of experience: a community of consecrated women who would live and serve “in the world.” In fact, the streets would become their cloister.

As Vincent was keenly aware of the distinctive nature of the Daughters, he would make a point of emphasizing their difference from other religious communities. Hence, he would use the term house instead of monastery or convent, and confraternity or society instead of congregation. Furthermore, one of the defining characteristics of the Daughters of Charity was that they remained secular, yet they pronounced annual private vows.[5] This practice continues to this day.

The new orientation of this community would eventually inspire the growth of many congregations of women in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. These too would commit themselves to the care and service of their neighbors and achieve official ecclesiastical approval.[6]

At DePaul today, the same spirit of innovation that gave birth to the Daughters of Charity can serve as a beacon as we consider how best to Design DePaul and as we continue to identify new ways to respond to current challenges.

Reflection questions:

What seeds of hope might you take from Vincent and Louise’s approach as they navigated seemingly insurmountable hurdles?

How, in your work, might you find evidence that “love is inventive to infinity?”[7]


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

[1] Robert Frost et al., The Road Not Taken: A Selection of Robert Frost’s Poems (New York: H. Holt, 1991).

[2] 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/.

[3] Massimo Marocchi, “Religious Women in the World in Italy and France During the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries,” Vincentian Heritage 9:2 (1988). Available at: https://‌via.‌library.‌depaul.‌edu/‌vhj/‌vol9/iss2/1205.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid., 206.

[6] Ibid., 209.

[7] Conference 102, “Exhortation to a dying brother,” 1645, CCD, 11:131. 

Courage and Love for Community

We live in a time of challenges and change. The future is always unknown, but it seems clear that the future of higher education will have to be different in some ways from the present. We live in a time of dramatic polarization, when almost every event is viewed in completely contradictory ways. Navigating such times successfully requires many virtues, and among them are courage and love of community.

Several years ago, I went to an event with Rev. Jim Wallis, the founder of Sojourners, and currently the Chair in Faith and Justice and the founding Director of the Georgetown University Center on Faith and Justice. He was speaking about one of his books, and I remember what he said when he was asked a really good question, one with which many of us probably often struggle. After hearing Wallis’s impassioned call to be active in the struggle against racism and for social justice, a questioner asked whether people of faith can lead a movement for social change when religious institutions have their own internal problems of injustice, and fewer people are identifying with organized religious movements. Wallis replied to this “What people on the street are drawn to is courage. If people of faith show courage, people will follow them.”

Courage is indeed something that is powerful and inspiring. It can often be enigmatic as well. Sometimes courage is associated with destructive acts of violence, but often such actions are in fact acts of cowardice. Change always requires courage. This is true whether we are talking about individual growth or social transformation. To be an international student traveling to a new land away from family and friends and seeking a college degree in a language that is not your native tongue requires enormous courage. To be a first-generation college student balancing work and study in a world in which you are sometimes not sure you belong requires magnificent courage. If one looks at the writings of many of those we honor as the greatest of social justice thinkers and orators, from Mahatma Gandhi to Martin Luther King, Jr., to Malcolm X, we find that many of them were obsessed with courage. They knew that it was attractive, and they knew that it was necessary.

Recently (February 7) we celebrated the Feast Day of Blessed Rosalie Rendu, the great nineteenth-century Daughter of Charity. Sister Rosalie is often associated with courage because she lived during a time of great turmoil in France, of violent political revolutions and repeated cholera pandemics. She lived at a time when anticlericalism often ran rampant. Amid this, Sister Rosalie stuck to a principle of serving all in need of help and assistance, no matter their politics.[1] She observed a firm commitment to a preferential option for the poor but didn’t hesitate to embrace the rich or powerful when they could help in the service of those poor. Her courage and her commitment to what she believed won her respect and even love from many sides, something which is rare in polarized times.

We are nearing the anniversary of the assassination of Malcolm X, the remarkable African American religious leader and human rights advocate.[2] Although Malcolm X later became a celebrated cultural and political figure and even received a commemorative United States postal stamp, during his life he was highly marginalized and often vilified. He was also someone who evolved and was open to change and growth. This requires as much if not more courage than simply speaking against one’s enemies, because it sometimes means speaking an uncomfortable word of truth to one’s friends and allies, or even sometimes to oneself. Malcolm X was able to maintain the love and credibility of the masses because they knew he was true to his principles and true to his love for them. As Ossie Davis said in his eulogy, he was “our own black shining prince!—who didn’t hesitate to die, because he loved us so.”[3]

The love of community is built through mutual care for each other. This is what inspires love and loyalty. The guiding reminder of Sister Rosalie’s advice to the Daughters of Charity was that they “must be like a milestone on a street corner where all those who pass by can rest and lay down their heavy burdens.”[4] When you are confident that someone loves you and then that person shows courage and commitment to principle, you will follow them. Courage is creative, it wins over hearts, it inspires hope. Love and courage feed each other and become contagious in community. Connection to the transcendent and connection to the immanent combine to form the leaders who are needed in times like ours.

We invite all of the DePaul community to join the Division of Mission and Ministry and UMMA, the United Muslims Moving Ahead for our Annual Fast-a-Thon, “Love of Community” which will be held February 14, 2023. Program starts at 5:00 p.m. We invite people to try fasting that day as one way of building connection to the transcendent, but whether you can fast or not, please join us for a meal together at sunset, around 5:30 pm. Registration is through DeHub.

Reflection Questions:

  • What connections do you have which give you courage?
  • What issues or situations do you feel call out for or require your courage?
  • What are ways we can build the type of community that makes us courageous in facing challenges and disagreement?

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

[1] Louise Sullivan, DC, Sister Rosalie Rendu, A Daughter of Charity on Fire with Love for the Poor (Chicago: Vincentian Studies Institute, 2006), 155. Available online: https://‌via.‌library.‌depaul.‌edu/‌vincentian_‌ebooks/‌5/.

[2] Malcolm X was assassinated in New York City on February 21, 1965.

[3] Ossie Davis, “Eulogy for Malcom X,” Faith Temple Church of God In Christ, New York City, February 27, 1965, radio broadcast, https://americanradioworks.publicradio.org/features/blackspeech/odavis.html

[4] Sister Rosalie attributed this maxim to her godfather, the Sulpician superior general Father Jacques Andre Emery.

What is Vincentian Hospitality?

Last week, DePaul University’s new president, Rob Manuel, shared a message in honor of the Feast Day of St. Vincent de Paul. He detailed the concepts of radical hospitality and service as deeply connected to the spirit and life example of Vincent de Paul, an ongoing inspiration for us today. While the connection between mission and service is familiar to most at DePaul, in subsequent conversations I observed that the idea of radical hospitality was new to many. This was especially true in articulating the present day meaning of DePaul’s Vincentian mission. The concept of such hospitality, however, has deep roots in our Vincentian heritage and is rooted in the life example and testimony of Vincent de Paul. There is great spiritual depth to the practice and experience of radical hospitality, particularly when considering our mission.

A common Vincentian story told at DePaul is often referred to as the story of the white tablecloth. In the foundational documents and rules established for the Confraternity in Châtillon-les-Dombes in 1617, Vincent de Paul explained the careful attention necessary when seeking to serve those in need. He recommended that missioners lay out a white cloth before serving food to a person in need, and that they engage in kind and cheerful conversation to better understand the context of that person’s story.(1) The attentive care communicated through gestures such as these reflect a recognition of the sacred dignity of those being served, as well as the essential relational dimension of human interaction, breaking down the distinction between “us” and “them.”

When Vincent established the Congregation of the Mission, he recognized the importance of establishing “a community gathered for the sake of the mission.” This community would not be based upon individual action, it would be built on the collective interdependence of those sharing a common purpose. Vincent took this further in establishing the Daughters of Charity alongside Louise de Marillac. Louise invited young peasant women into her personal space and formed a community. She recognized their potential and taught them to read and write, equipping them to be catalysts of change in their communities. Such hospitality was unprecedented at the time. Louise created entirely new opportunities that did not exist previously for women in society. With Vincent she shaped an intergenerational community, gathering women across all boundaries of social class. The Daughters believed that the “streets are our chapel,” and they continue to carry a spirit of personalism, openness, and hospitality outward, wherever they go.

In 2016, a special edition of the journal Vincentian Heritage was devoted to the theme of hospitality. It was inspired by our Vincentian spirit, so urgently needed in today’s world. The articles in this virtual compendium of Vincentian hospitality contain many insights on the transformative power of the practice of possibility.

The preface describes Vincent de Paul as a “hospitality practitioner” due to his desire to serve and care for others in the way that is best for them.(2) Subsequent articles further develop the theme through the lens of Vincentian tradition, emphasizing hospitality as a “sacred” experience that reflects the very nature of God. Vincent and Louise’s attention to the quality of the services they provided is singled out as a reflection of their deep, faith-based commitment to offering the best care possible to others, particularly those that society forgot or diminished.(3) An encounter of hospitality as a transformational event is highlighted “because we are engaging in new relations and opening ourselves to deep change.” In the process of encountering others, we must simultaneously address the harmful or unjust structures that get in the way of the effective care that hospitality demands.(4) Cultivating friendships and learning to listen deeply to oneself and the needs of others in the manner of Vincent de Paul is emphasized, as is the practice of hospitality to students of all faith traditions. We must recognize the importance of our words and actions in welcoming and caring for students, and in helping them to feel at home.(5) The intentional practice of hospitality, and how it effectively passes on the Vincentian mission and charism in the relational encounter between students and community partners, is also detailed.(6) Vincentian hospitality has been successfully used to address some of today’s most pressing societal issues.(7) Other articles discuss Vincent’s attentive care and concern for the sick and indigent, prisoners, and foreign migrants, and all those whom society tends to marginalize.(8) This edition truly illustrates how the practice of hospitality can serve as a catalyst for both inner and outer transformation.

Interestingly, an earlier Vincentian Heritage article by Sioban Albiol in DePaul’s College of Law points out that Vincent was himself a migrant and therefore he maintained a special concern for foreigners. This was reflected in the hospitality he provided to others.(9) The article states:

Saint Vincent de Paul must have felt the blessing and the pain of migration in his own life. Like so many economic refugees, at some personal cost to himself and his family. His father’s selling of two oxen to finance Saint Vincent’s studies is recounted by several authors. He left his home in order to pursue educational opportunity and economic security that could not be found in his place of birth. The land where he was born would have provided a bare existence.(10)

Vincent’s frequent reflection upon and practice of charity connects closely to the concept of hospitality. While today charity may sound soft and ineffective in the face of large, structured inequities, it also might be understood as the critical affective and relational dimension to justice. In fact, Vincent’s emphasis on charity was about action and generativity beyond the surface level.(11) Vincent advised his followers that charity involved the willingness to endure risks for the sake of offering hospitality to those in need: “If you grant asylum to so many refugees, your house may be sacked sooner by soldiers; I see that clearly. The question is, however, whether, because of this danger, you should refuse to practice such a beautiful virtue as charity.”(12) Enduring risks and vulnerability means extending ourselves beyond our comfort zone for the sake of others. Vincent’s charity, and his personal transformation over time, began by responding to the needs of those in front of him. He saw it as a virtue and an imperative of his Christian faith to be approachable.(13)

The resources above may help to shape a distinctive Vincentian hospitality vitally integral to sustaining and energizing the daily practice of our mission as we engage students, colleagues, community partners, and guests and visitors within our DePaul campus and community. However, in the spirit of Vincent de Paul, we will only learn radical hospitality and understand its profound meaning through concrete actions and experiences.

How might a radical Vincentian hospitality become concrete and real in our day-to-day interactions and encounters?

How might the practice of hospitality lead to both inner and outer transformation—within us and within the communities of which we are a part?


Reflection by: Mark Laboe, Associate VP, Mission and Ministry

1) See Document 126, Charity of Women, (Châtillon-Les-Dombes), 1617, CCD, 13b:13; and Document 130, Charity of Women, (Montmirail – II), CCD, 13b:40. At: https://‌via.‌library.‌depaul.‌edu/‌vincentian‌_ebooks/‌38/.

2) Thomas A. Maier, Ph.D. “Preface: The Nature and Necessity of Hospitality,” Vincentian Heritage 33:1 (2016), available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol33/iss1/1.

3) Thomas A. Maier, Ph.D., and Marco Tavanti, Ph.D., “Introduction: Sacred Hospitality Leadership: Values Centered Perspectives and Practices,” Ibid., at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol33/iss1/2.

4) Ibid, p. 5.

5) Annelle Fitzpatrick, C.S.J., Ph.D., “Hospitality on a Vincentian Campus: Welcoming the Stranger Outside our Tent,” Ibid., at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol33/iss1/9.

6) Joyana Dvorak, “Cultivating Interior Hospitality: Passing the Vincentian Legacy through Immersion,” Ibid., at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol33/iss1/16.

7) J. Patrick Murphy, C.M., Ph.D., “Hospitality in the Manner of St. Vincent de Paul,” Ibid., at: https://‌via.‌library.‌depaul.edu/vhj/vol33/iss1/12.

8) See John E. Rybolt, C.M., Ph.D., “Vincent de Paul and Hospitality,” Ibid., at: https://‌via.‌library.‌depaul.‌edu/‌vhj/‌vol33/iss1/5; John M. Conry, “Reflections from the Road: Vincentian Hospitality Principles in Healthcare Education for the Indigent,” Ibid., at: http://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol33/iss1/14.

9) Siobhan Albiol, J.D., “Meeting Saint Vincent’s Challenge in Providing Assistance to the Foreign-Born Poor: Applying the Lessons to the Asylum and Immigration Law Clinic,” Vincentian Heritage 28:2 (2010), at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol28/iss2/20/.

10) Ibid., p. 282.

11) Conference 207, Charity (Common Rules, Chap. II, Art. 12), 30 May 1659, CCD, 12:223, at: https://‌via.‌‌library.‌depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/36/.

12) Letter 1678, Vincent de Paul to Louis Champion, Superior, In Montmirail, November 1653, CCD, 5:49, at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/30/.

13) See Robert Maloney, C.M., “The Way of Vincent de Paul: Five Characteristic Virtues,” Via Sapientiae, (DePaul University, 1991), at: Five Characteristic Virtues; also Edward R. Udovic, C.M., Ph.D., “‘Our good will and honest efforts.’ Vincentian Perspectives on Poverty Reduction Efforts,” Vincentian Heritage 28:2, at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol28/iss2/5.

Committing to a Mission beyond Ourselves

I recently had the good fortune of accompanying leaders from DePaul, St. John’s, and Niagara, the three American Vincentian universities, to France for a Vincentian Heritage tour. The trip was a culmination of their COVID-extended participation in the Vincentian Mission Institute program, and it was the first Heritage tour involving DePaul faculty and staff since 2019.

The trip gave me an opportunity to reflect more intentionally and vividly on Vincent de Paul, Louise de Marillac, Frédéric Ozanam, and others in the Vincentian Family over the past 400+ years and their relationship to our current work at DePaul University. There were many striking insights for me during the experience, often connected to a deepened appreciation for the enduring legacy of Vincent de Paul, the “Lazarists” (Vincentians), and the Daughters of Charity throughout much of France. Certainly, the many churches we visited in Paris and beyond display numerous images, statues, paintings, and plaques that commemorate Vincent and his impact. Yet Vincent’s visible and sustained presence clearly goes beyond church walls. His life and work as a priest had a broader effect on French society, and he even gained the respect of the antireligious revolutionaries of the eighteenth century. He was a public religious figure whose service rippled outward to the peripheries of society where the poor and otherwise forgotten dwelled.

The trip to Vincent’s birthplace in Dax and to the site of his university education in Toulouse invited reflection on his young adult development and early priesthood. We saw the important site of Folleville, on the former lands of the de Gondi family, where Vincent had a transformative experience, where we frequently imagine Madame de Gondi posing the memorable “Vincentian question.” We remembered the foundation of the enduring model of the Confraternities of Charity when visiting Châtillon-sur-Chalaronne. And we walked through the streets of Paris to places that touched on the memory of Frédéric Ozanam and the founding of the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul. Moreover, it seemed everywhere we went, we found the continued presence and the historical echoes of the Daughters of Charity, including Louise, Catherine Labouré, and Rosalie Rendu.

So, why does all this history still matter so much to us now? Why would we spend extended time in present-day France walking in the footsteps of the founders of the Vincentian tradition?

What ultimately matters in this exploration of our history is that we become inspired to carry on the Vincentian legacy in concrete ways through our lives and work today because, quite simply, our world still desperately needs it. Our Vincentian mission is as compelling now as it was 400 years ago: to sustain and enliven a community of people dedicated to service, charity, justice, and a purpose beyond themselves.

For generations now, Vincent, Louise, Frédéric, and others in the Vincentian Family have asked what it would mean for us to orient our time, our efforts, our intentions, and our vision more radically around the values reflected in the Jesus of the Gospels. Their enduring legacy reflects their response to this question.

Regardless of our religious convictions or the nature of our work, the legacy of Vincent, Louise, and the Vincentian Family invites each of us to ask:

  • How might we orient our lives so that our life and work manifest the generosity, service, and care for others reflected in the living spirit of our Vincentian predecessors?
  • What can we put in place that will outlast us, that will endure for the betterment of the common good?
  • How can we build and inspire the community of people that is DePaul University to be focused on this mission together, and in so doing, to address the larger societal needs of today?

Like those of our predecessors, may our responses to these questions be proclaimed through our actions.


Reflection by: Mark Laboe, Assoc. VP for Mission and Ministry

Authenticity: Invitation for Graduating Seniors

Last week I reviewed a leadership module highlighting an insight first introduced to me when I started working at DePaul: professionalism is Vincentian simplicity.

I learned Vincentian simplicity through my experience first, and only later made connections to its roots in our Vincentian family. The first Daughters of Charity I met showed me that simplicity is authenticity. The authenticity of I mean what I say is woven through work and personal life.

I recall Sister Frances Ryan, who taught in the College of Education (COE), offering me cutting-edge scholarship to address the big questions life was bringing up, accompanied by a phone call or handwritten note keeping my family in her heart and prayers. Sister Katie Norris, who served as director of Catholic Campus Ministry (CCM), brought Vincentian simplicity to our meetings by cutting through tense moments with a courageous, tender question or insight that quickly breathed imaginative, healing oxygen into the room. Sister Judy Warmbold, who shared her leadership and pastoral gifts in the Dax program for housing-insecure students and also with CCM, reminds me of the power of presence when I meet her, so often sitting with students. She centers the personal dignity of those in her midst with her listening heart and her laughter. Sister Betty Ann McNeil, Vincentian Scholar in Residence at DePaul, contributes knowledge and historical context with integrity and rigor in light of the sustained work of our Vincentian mission and legacy.

I feel blessed and grateful to have worked with these Daughters of Charity at DePaul University. Whether I have bumped into them on Halsted Street outside of the COE or at the Marillac Social Center in East Garfield Park, a simplicity of what you see is what you get has consistently been made real through their presence.

I write this reflection with the graduating seniors of 2022 in mind and heart. I join with all faculty, staff, and administrators in the DePaul community to offer this blessing:

As you begin the next chapter of your life, may you allow this Vincentian spirit of simplicity to guide you. May your professional endeavors be filled with an authenticity that breathes healing and friendship into your workplace. May your education be lifelong, ever embracing knowledge and wisdom. And may you continue to center the dignity of all, especially those excluded and marginalized.


Reflection by: Karl Nass, Director of Vincentian Service and Formation, Division of Mission and Ministry

A Vincentian Woman Out of the Shade

How could a delicate infant girl born in Paris in 1591, to an unknown mother and a prominent father between two marriages, be relevant today? How could her inauspicious early life have led to ongoing waves of benevolence and social services?

Prestigious relatives relegated the young child to a Dominican convent in Poissy for education. When her father died, an uncle withdrew the preteen and sent her elsewhere to learn domestic skills until relatives could arrange a marriage with Antoine Le Gras. Given her obscure start, only a well-informed Jeopardy contestant might identify Louise de Marillac as an agent of social transformation.

When she began collaborating with Vincent de Paul and his works of charity, Louise stepped “out of the shade, aflame and unafraid.”(1) Petite, “benevolent but bold,”(2) Louise addressed social challenges astutely because she believed that “God is Charity” and, therefore, that the “practice of charity is so powerful” that helping her neighbor in need would bring her closer to God.(3) Despite the blessings of her life, Louise understood that the early sufferings she endured were her “way of the Cross” and she wished to be full of “the fire of Holy Love … [and] divine light.”(4) An illuminating spiritual experience she titled “The Light” eventually transformed Louise into a spiritual leader and advocate for social change.(5)

In overcoming adversity, frailty, and life’s inevitable hurts associated with her upbringing, Louise de Marillac became empowered: to supervise charitable outreach programs begun by Vincent de Paul; to establish and mentor Daughters of Charity for basic nursing; to develop contracts for their services with hospitals; to rescue foundlings; to initiate a foster-care system for unwanted infants; to initiate education for girls from needy families; to feed starving refugees; to care for persons with mental illness; and to network with wealthy women for financial support. This dynamism of organized charity created systems of care that improved the lives of impoverished people of all ages.

We honor Louise on her birthday, August 12, as an unlikely agent of social transformation. Her love became “our legacy”—to be compassionate in upholding the dignity of all members of DePaul’s diverse, multi-faith, and inclusive community.(6) Louise lived by the light of her faith. What must we do to reach out and accompany those struggling at the margins of society? How can their needs illuminate our hearts to respond? Like Louise, we are called to be light for others. As Amanda Gorman, the first National Youth Poet Laureate, observes, “there is always light.” May we all be “brave enough to see it,” and “brave enough to be it.”(7)

Reflection Questions:

  1. What motivates you to step out from the shadows, aflame and unafraid?
  2. What does “light” mean to you? Describe your experiences of “light.”
  3. How are you motivated to be an agent of social transformation?

1) Amanda Gorman, “The Hill We Climb,” (Viking Books: 2021), 32 pp. See also: Amanda Gorman’s Poem Stole the Show at the Inauguration
2) Ibid.
3) A.29, (ON CHARITY), Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, 710-11.
4) Ibid.
5) For more on what is known as Louise’s “lumière experience” see: Louise de Marillac’s Pentecost Experience
6) A.29, (ON CHARITY).
7) Gorman, “The Hill We Climb.”

 

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

Holy Perseverance

 

While it is not exactly historically documented, one of my favorite Vincentian stories is how Saint Louise de Marillac made one single decision that drastically preserved the way the Daughters of Charity lived their mission and which continues to prevail even today. A true lesson in perseverance. Holy perseverance. The relative norm for religious women during the seventeenth century was to be cloistered and out of the public eye. However, Saint Louise and her sisters lived a life that was very much a public ministry. They went about doing the practical business of God’s work when and where it was required, without a need to separate themselves from the poor. The story goes that Saint Louise was given a letter requiring the Daughters of Charity to become a cloistered order. Interestingly enough, that letter was never seen… It seems that our beloved and strategic Saint Louise “lost” the letter!

Ultimately, it was Saint Louise who had a clear vision for what the mission was meant to be. The hierarchical authorities at work might have much preferred the sisters busy but out of sight. Yet, quite frankly, Saint Louise simply knew better. We should take some notes from our foundress. How could the Daughters minister in hospitals or establish schools for young girls if they were not permitted to be out in the world? It is a tricky thing to heed authority sincerely, all the while knowing that sometimes no one sees the heart of our mission more clearly than we do. One of the ever-present buzzwords of our day is “systems.” We have an affinity for relegating our societal problems into indecipherably overpowering frameworks that no one person can dismantle alone. “Systems” is the word we use these days as a catchall for intricacies that keep people bound.

No one lives outside of these systems. We are all universally participants in one system or another: there’s simply no societal way around it. But we can actually turn the system on its axis if we work within it to create effective change in the small ways we each hold agency. We can enlist our systems in a fashion that facilitates the greatest good we can achieve; upholding the dignity of others. That’s precisely what Saint Louise did! She may have “lost” the letter, but she kept the mission vibrant.

Working within systems can be a taxing mess, yet often we are called to promote change with our very persistence. We must put our hope into action with steady progress toward what we can influence. While the tasks may be tedious and the hierarchy well-intended, we all have a letter to lose. May Saint Louise be a reminder to us that no one is exempt from systems, and may we draw solace from her words, “I hope that our good God will grant you holy perseverance.”1


1 L.19, To Monsieur L’Abbé de Vaux, 3 May 1640, Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, 28.

Written by: Azucena De La Torre, Ministry Coordinator, Division of Mission and Ministry

For the entire Louise Week Lineup including our daily events and 6-day virtual pilgrimage visit:

What are you doing with your life?

If you’re anything like me, this question will send you into an existential tailspin as you try to reconcile who you are right now with the image of who you want to become. The funny thing about life, though, is that no one tells you how tough things will feel when you don’t end up at a dream job or what to do when you don’t fulfill the image of who you thought you’d be. It can all feel like a maze as you try to sort out the best direction for your life. Believe it or not, this is the same labyrinth that Louise de Marillac found herself in too.

Louise is the saint of social work and her story tends to get wrapped up in a neat bow: she was a widow who found her sense of purpose by working alongside Vincent de Paul to co-found the Daughters of Charity. Her legacy lives on today and she’s admired for her persistence and commitment to serving others, but the truth of Louise’s story is that she struggled, hard, facing questions about purpose and self-doubt. In fact, when Louise was a young woman one rejection shaped the entire course of her life. Louise had her path and her plans set; she was going to finish her schooling and join a convent. It was, for all intents and purposes, her dream job. But once she got to the convent, she was turned away, and we have good reason to believe that she was discriminated against because she was born out of wedlock. This rejection set the ball rolling in the opposite direction of what Louise had hoped. Instead of becoming a nun, her only option was to get married and begin her life as a wife and mother.

So, that’s what she did. Soon enough, the challenges of motherhood and being a wife to an ailing husband began to add up, and Louise was at her breaking point. What’s really interesting, though, is that the most pivotal moment of her life was her breaking point. Just as Louise was at her wits’ end struggling to find a way to move forward with her life, she received a revelation within the hallowed walls of the Church of St. Nicolas de Champs on the feast of Pentecost. Overwhelmed with frustration, Louise prayed for a sign, any sign, that could give her a shot at a life of fulfillment, service, and purpose. She sat there and pleaded to God for guidance. Just when she thought all was lost, He answered her prayer. She envisioned a life in which she saw herself serving the poor and living in community with sisters. This flicker of hope became her “lumière”—her guiding light.

As she sat inside the church in Paris, her doubts became quieter. Louise was to stay married and await her chance to take vows of poverty. Little did she know that her lumière was foreshadowing a future as a Daughter of Charity. Louise saw an opportunity, and she was going to make it manifest if it was the last thing she did. Sometimes, all you need is permission to dream up a new life, filled with opportunities and invitations to take matters into your own hands, and this was Louise’s.

Louise’s story and her lumière moment remind me that we need to trust the timing of our lives and embrace the unexpected pivots. Louise’s lumière gave her just enough hope to keep going—to keep envisioning a new version of the woman she dreamed of becoming. She prayed and meditated on this vision and with hard work and patience, she manifested a life better than the one she had dreamed of as a young woman.

Sometimes, you just have to throw out the original plan because what awaits you is bigger than you could have possibly planned for. I think a lot about Louise’s life path and what might’ve happened had she been accepted into that convent on her first try. She probably would’ve lived a quiet, pious life cloistered in the convent. She probably would’ve found her way, but Louise was meant to stand out, and although it made her life tougher, it was the fact that she didn’t fit the mold that made her so extraordinary. In the end, what made the Daughters of Charity remarkable was that they didn’t live a cloistered life. They preached, “The streets are our chapel,” and it is that very philosophy that helped lay the groundwork for a lot of modern-day social work in American society. It’s because Louise was able to meet people where they were that she revolutionized the way that we form each other through service and community.

I can’t help but think that life is less about the plans we make and more about saying yes to the things we love and promising ourselves to find a way to persist when we’re forced to pivot. Louise did and so can we. It wasn’t easy, but at her core she knew she had this desire to serve and to contribute to something bigger than herself. So, she followed those instincts, and she kept saying yes to the opportunities that let her live out bits and pieces of her lifelong dream until finally, she was living out that dream in full swing. Louise didn’t leave that church and instantly become the servant leader, girl boss she envisioned in her lumière. But she did walk away with some hope and the belief that she’d one day get to where she wanted to be. Until then, she had to inch herself toward that goal in any way that she could. She didn’t give up in the face of rejection and what felt like a dead end in life.

It’s so easy to look at our lives or career paths that didn’t work out and think we’ve failed and that we’ll never rebound from a mistake, but Louise and I are here to tell you to keep going, keep dreaming, keep fighting for the person you hope to become one day because this is a fight that is always worth it.


1 L.519, To Sister Anne Hardemont, (1658), Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, 614-615.

Written by: Gracie Covarrubios, Admission Counselor, Office of Undergraduate Admissions

For the entire Louise Week Lineup including our daily events and 6-day virtual pilgrimage visit:

Louise de Marillac

Here’s the thing. If you just “read” this about this powerful God-filled woman, Louise de Marillac of the seventeenth century, you’ll come away with a few tidbits of—what to call it— “interesting information.” Good enough. BUT… if you approach the life of Louise in a prayerful way, your interaction with her spirit just might inspire and enliven you to new ways of living your own life. Maybe not right away, but what you learn about her might sit like a pulsing little seed in your imagination, the part of you that’s always picturing how you want to live and who you hope to become.

That’s the thing about us as humans made in the image of God: we’re always capable of becoming more than we are. Another thing about us is that we are deeply relational beings. We’re wired to connect. For instance, I feel a special connection to the pansies I planted and to the birds that come to my feeder.

So much for flowers and birds… what about connecting with a saint like Louise de Marillac?

Here’s the big “Louise Spark” that enlivened me as I read about her in preparation to write this article. It was a real “Geez Louise” realization! A favorite expression I’ve had since I was a kid, I now feel happy to apply it to a real Louise in my life.

As I read about this great lady with her steadfast-trusting-God pioneering spirit, training and guiding the Daughters, I had what Louise called a “Lumière.” I realized that if she hadn’t actively collaborated with Vincent to birth a new form of religious life, one which combined prayer and service of others, I wouldn’t be a Sister of St. Joseph today. The Daughters of Charity burst into history in 1610, and right on their heels, my congregation came into being in 1650. Which—praise Jesus—set about teaching young women, eventually sending them across the Atlantic, and over the course of 300 years, to St. Joseph Academy in Baton Rouge, Louisiana… and, blessedly, to me.

Prior to the Daughters, being a nun meant a cloistered life, and I would have died on the vine being confined inside convent walls like that. I would have had a nervous breakdown and no doubt driven everybody else crazy too. I wanted to be a nun because I wanted to TEACH (really wanted to teach, couldn’t wait to teach). This was because the nuns in my high school were super teachers, alive with faith and humanness and infectious humor, who challenged me to think critically, to stand up and speak in a public setting, and to be curious as all-get-out about the world and people and how God moves throughout it all. My nuns lured me in. Attraction is the way the Holy Spirit works, never the prod of “do your duty” or, worse, “you better do this or you’re going to feel sooo guilty.” So, yes, I was lured, and at age 18 I threw in my lot with the Saint Joes and haven’t looked back.

Thank you, Louise and Vincent. You did the hard work of plowing the furrow, which prepared the soil for other apostolic orders to spring up.

I’m still teaching, sometimes in classrooms, like when I come to DePaul, but also to audiences around the world about human rights. This is what has led me to entrust my archives to you here at DePaul, and to visit with you for a week of sharing each year. It is the Christ-like spirit of the Vincentians that brought me to you and keeps me coming. I love the pictures and quotes of Louise and Vincent that are all over campus. Their spirit permeates every nook and cranny and, hopefully, these few words as well.

Geez Louise! Thank you.

A postscript from Sr. Helen

Check out my collection at: Sr. Helen Prejean Papers or visit Special Collections on the third floor of the library, open again in August 2021. Two wonderful women stand ready to assist you: Jamie Nelson and Morgen MacIntosh Hodgetts. Phone: 773-325-2167.

Reflection by: Sister Helen Prejean, C.S.J.

This is Louise Week at DePaul! Learn more about the many activities of the week focused on sustaining the legacy of Louise de Marillac in our lives and work at DePaul and beyond!

 

Can We Endure This Much Longer?

You may have recently seen the news that Europe’s oldest known person survived Covid-19, after having tested positive just weeks before her 117th birthday. That person, Sister Andre (Lucile) Randon, happens to be a Daughter of Charity, a member of the religious community founded by Louise de Marillac and Vincent de Paul in 1633. She became a nun in 1944 at the age of 40, after having lived through two world wars and the Spanish Flu pandemic. She devoted many of her years to working with children as a teacher and governess and spent over two decades working with orphans and the elderly in a hospital. Sr. Andre was quoted as saying, “I’m not afraid of dying, so give my vaccine doses to those who need them.”(1)

Her long life and generous spirit puts things into perspective and help us to recognize that this difficult period we are living through shall eventually pass.

I have heard it said that the difference between a child and an adult is that an adult knows a challenging moment will pass. If only it were that easy for us! Like a distraught child overcome by intense feelings, we often have difficulty seeing beyond our present situation. Feelings can overwhelm us, cloud our vision, and prevent our understanding the larger context. We forget that life is about more than our current reality and that time will surely change our perspective. Looking back on our lives, our thoughts about all we have experienced have certainly evolved and will do so again. Sr. Andre’s life can help remind us of this fact.

Over the course of our lives, we may fall into ruts. This may happen without our even being aware. The ruts may be habits or draining, even harmful, ways of seeing, thinking, acting, or relating with others. We may wake up days, weeks, months, or even years later, only to recognize we have gone astray and lost touch with our heart’s desire. In facing this, strong doses of humility and self-compassion are necessary and healing antidotes. Surely, in her long life, Sr. Andre learned many times of the need for forgiveness.

The examples of Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac also encourage us to take a long view on life. Vincent wrote to Louise: “The spirit of God urges one gently to do the good that can be done reasonably, so that it may be done perseveringly and for a long time.”(2) Louise, meanwhile, encouraged her fellow sisters by saying: “It is not enough to begin well, one must persevere, as, I believe, you intend.”(3) Keeping this perspective in mind, Sr. Andre’s example and the words of Vincent and Louise invite us to reconsider what it really means to live a good life.

Thinking of how we might look back on our life in old age, what can we do now to be able to someday say, as St. Paul did, and Sr. Andre might, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith?”(4)

How might our perspective of our current difficult reality shift or evolve with time? What can we forgive or let go of today to start anew or better move in the direction of our deepest hopes?


1) Elian Peltier, “As she turns 117, French nun is oldest to recover from virus,” New York Times; as published in the Chicago Tribune, Thursday, February 11, 2021, p. 11.
2) Letter 58, “To Saint Louise, In Beauvais,” CCD, 1:92. See: https://‌via.library.‌depaul.edu/‌vincentian_‌ebooks/‌25/
3) L.300, “To Sister Charlotte and Sister Françoise,” 17 March 1651, Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, 346. See: https://via.library.depaul.edu/ldm/13
4) 2 Timothy 4:7.

Reflection by: Mark Laboe, Associate Vice President, Division of Mission and Ministry