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

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

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

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

Questions for reflection:

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

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


Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

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

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

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

[4] Ibid.

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

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

Finding Hope in Dark Times

French holy card which reads, “A good conscience is in unalterable joy and peace, even in the midst of adversities.”

“Another effect of charity is to rejoice with those who rejoice. It causes us to enter into their joy … to unite us in one mind and in joy as well as in sorrow.”[1] – Saint Vincent de Paul

I have a sense these days that folks are having a hard time feeling hopeful. I only need to glance at the front page of the newspaper to understand why. I gave up consuming too much news a while back. It wasn’t doing any good for my soul.

From the little I’ve read and heard, Saint Vincent de Paul seems to have been a joyful person. He, too, lived at a time when there was plenty to be worried about. Plagues ravaged Europe in Vincent’s day, institutional corruption ran deep, and the social order was profoundly unfair. The poor that he spent so many years serving bore the brunt of the suffering. He had beloved friends die young and violently. He took these losses hard. Yet he found a way to remain joyful. Vincent is certainly not the only person who has known loss all too well but remained hopeful, joyful, and grateful. What’s their secret?

Last month I was listening to a podcast on grief and loss created by Anderson Cooper called “All There Is.” One of the episodes is an extraordinary interview with Stephen Colbert. At age ten, Stephen lost his father and two teenage brothers in a plane crash. That is a defining experience in his life, obviously. Of course, he wishes that didn’t happen. Yet he will say he’s grateful for it. Stephen believes in his core that it is a gift to exist. He knows that existence comes with suffering; it’s unavoidable. He believes that if you’re grateful for your life, you have to be grateful for all of it. While he wishes that tragedy never happened, he knows that having experienced that unimaginable loss made him a more compassionate, more human person. He can’t help but acknowledge that it has helped him love others in a deeper way. In that sense, Stephen is grateful for the thing he most wishes didn’t happen. This tragedy did not keep Stephen from being a joyful, hopeful person. I think he’s on to something.

Later this month, I will be accompanying a group of students on a service immersion trip to El Salvador. From what I have read of the history of Central and South America, I have been impressed by how a suffering and oppressed people produced beautiful music and art that spoke not only to their resilience and courage but indeed to their joyfulness. On a recent trip to Ireland, I was again struck by how much beautiful poetry, as well as raucously fun music and dance, seems to come from those who suffer greatly. How do they do it? On the trip to El Salvador, my role is staff mentor. I think, however, that I have much more to learn than to impart.

I’m thinking Vincent’s secret might lie in his animating question: “What must be done?” Vincent, Louise, and those they served with didn’t just lament the suffering of others. They went and lived with those who were afflicted. They walked with them and shared in their lives. My guess is they hated the circumstances that resulted in such suffering. Like Stephen Colbert, however, they leaned into the reality of the thing they wished wasn’t so. In sharing in the suffering of others, they also shared in their joy.

I don’t pretend to know the answer to the question of how to remain hopeful in these dark times. But I suspect that running away from suffering isn’t the answer. Nor is reading about it and lamenting it. Maybe, paradoxically, going through it with others is a better strategy.

Reflection Question:

Ponder artworks, poems, movies, etc. that are sad or tragic while also being unbearably beautiful. How is it that those two things can coexist in your heart?


Reflection by: Rich Goode, Executive Director, Planned Giving | Advancement and External Relations

[1] Conference 207, Charity (Common Rules, Chap. II, Art. 12), 30 May 1659, CCD, 12:222. See: https:‌‌//‌‌via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/36/.

Another World is Possible

Resources, News, Events and Happenings related to the integration of DePaul’s Vincentian mission into the ongoing life and work of the university community.

Mission Monday

Photo Credits: Ankhesenamun on Unsplash

Another World is Possible

Even amid feelings of despair, there is always a way toward a new reality where life can triumph and flourish. …read more

 

 

 

 

Mission-Related Events and Happenings This Week

DePaul Managers Forum

Join us for an “Open Space” experience with other DePaul managers (of pro staff) to focus on the topics and questions most important to you! Register here

Another World is Possible

Even amid feelings of despair, there is always a way toward a new reality where life can triumph and flourish.

I know that I am not alone in finding myself stuck in some confusion and despair over the troubling conflict in the Middle East. These events are a stark reminder of the pain and destruction that violence and injustice can breed. Most of us learn about the harsh realities there primarily through shocking videos and images, leading to feelings of powerlessness and anguish because we are oceans away. Yet it is important to be aware of these realities rather than to avoid them, and to center our compassion and concern on all the people impacted. It would be inhuman of us not to do so.

As a Catholic Christian, I am steeped in a narrative of resurrection and the eternal possibilities of life and light present in the face of darkness. I find hope in knowing that another world is possible other than one filled with violence and destruction. I have learned repeatedly in my life that in moments of despair and helplessness, we can always regain some sense of agency by beginning with the reality immediately before us, with the people around us, and with the vision of life that we believe we must help create, enable, and sustain. The road ahead can be long, hard, and complex. Yet if we are open to it and courageous enough to pursue it, it is always possible to work toward a justice and peace that enables all life to flourish, reflecting the creative dream and intention of our God.

I am certain that we, at DePaul, can create a kind of community that does not replicate the harm of the broader society. Because our walls are porous by design, we cannot help but be influenced in powerful ways by the injustices that surround us in our world. Yet, with careful intention, we also can work toward a different way of being together, one that accepts deep difference and conflict while being open to deeper understanding and change. We can model among us what we hope to create.

Vincent de Paul’s spirituality is what Catholic Christians speak of as “incarnational.” That is, Vincent believed that faith is ultimately made evident in concrete action. He spoke often of virtues, which are essentially the consistent embodiment of our aspirational values and ideals. In fact, this is what Vincent de Paul saw and most revered in the example of Jesus, who incarnated the presence and love of God. Vincent de Paul believed we are called to do the same. Furthermore, Vincent suggested, God supports and accompanies us in the process, helping us toward the realization of an integral human development and flourishing.

Inspired by our Vincentian mission, we always strive toward larger goals, such as the sustainability of our planet, an end to violence, and the alleviation of poverty and injustice. We act for systemic change that can make the flourishing of life possible for all, with particular attention to those who have been marginalized or abandoned. We work to bridge the gap between what is and what we dream of.

The way to that desired end may best be achieved by seeking to create locally the human community that we feel called to bring into being globally. If it is ever to come about, the larger change we seek must be accompanied by change within and among us.

Reflection questions:

What is the human community and the world you believe we are called to help bring into being here at DePaul? How can your actions reflect the end that we seek?


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

How might the DePaul community be a living sign of hope through our life and work together in the coming year?

Christians around the world currently move through the season of Advent, the four weeks of joyful anticipation leading up to the celebration of Christmas Day (December 25), which commemorates the birth of Jesus of Nazareth over 2,000 years ago. At the popular level, the Christmas holiday is now perhaps more associated with the figure of Santa Claus and commercialized through the associated ritual of giving gifts, such that the profound meaning of this holy day for Christians often fades to the background.

As a remembrance of the Christian belief in the incarnation of God in human history, Christmas has stood the test of time as an eternal source of resilient hope for many around the world and across many cultures. Coming in the midst of the darkness of the winter season in the northern hemisphere, and always in the face of society’s violence and injustice, Christmas enters again each year as a reason for, and as a symbol of, hope and possibility. Says the Gospel of John: “The light has entered into the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.”

For Christians, the Christmas holiday reminds us that there is always room for hope because of the in breaking of God’s grace into human life, with which we are invited to join and participate. As the words of author, theologian, and civil rights leader Howard Thurman remind us, this hope of the Christmas season truly begins when made visible through our actions.

 

The Work of Christmas

When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among others,
To make music in the heart.

Howard Thurman
The Mood of Christmas and Other Celebrations[1]

As we soon enter a time of holiday break from our work routines, may we enjoy the rest and time with loved ones that often accompanies this season, and prepare for the continued work ahead in 2023.

Reflection Questions:

  • How will you make hope active and real in the weeks and year ahead?
  • How might the DePaul community be a living sign of hope through our life and work together in the coming year?

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

[1] Howard Thurman, The Mood of Christmas and Other Celebrations (Friends United Press, 1985), 127 pp.

The Power of the Good

“The cause of love is esteem for the good in the thing loved.”[1]

Do you ever wonder if you are a glass-half-full or glass-half-empty kind of person? Before you answer this question, pause for a moment and ask yourself how others might describe you these past two years as you have weathered the impact of the global pandemic and myriad other life stressors. What would they say? This may be a more revealing exercise than merely our own self-appraisal.

If you are anything like me, at times in these past couple of years, my ability to find hope in the world has certainly been tested. It’s hard to remain hopeful in tomorrow when yet another news report bellows that a new strain of the virus is traversing borders faster than a tweet can pop into your feed. Or when we learn that global warming’s intensity is surpassing rates never before imagined as our planet is ravaged by all kinds of atmospheric pollutants. Or when senseless violence continues to lay bare unjust and broken societal systems that we ourselves have created and continue to maintain. In the face of such alarming realities, our belief in the goodness of humanity and our capacity for hope can be severely diminished. At moments such as these, what enables you to stay in touch with the best in life and continue to trust that goodness will win out, despite the foreboding shadows? What gives you the hope and compassion to believe that “right relationship” can be restored and is eternally possible?

I believe that Louise de Marillac and Vincent de Paul must have struggled with similar questions. After all, they spent most of their lives enduring tumultuous wars and endless battles. They also witnessed dire poverty and harsh human suffering. What kept them hopeful and allowed them not to give up on humanity?

For Louise and Vincent, it was their enduring faith in a loving God that enabled them to never lose sight of the good. Undeniably, their belief in such goodness was made real through their interactions with the community around them and reinforced by the power of the ministry in which they engaged, primarily with those on the margins of society. Indeed, no matter if they were ministering to the haughtiest of aristocrats or the lowliest of paupers, Louise and Vincent chose to believe in the power of goodness to prevail and the potential of hearts to be moved. Their lived reality was thus a living testament to the capacity of the human person to choose to respond with love.

  • As you contemplate how full or empty your glass is today, who or what has given you the ability to replenish your supplies when life gets hard, and the clouds seem particularly ominous?
  • In our particular context at DePaul, what gives you the sustenance to keep believing in the best of the mission when decisions may seem out of step with your aspirations?
  • Where do you find the ability to go on believing when the terrain gets tough and you lose sight of the way out of the woods?
  • What enables you to choose to love and find hope in the good of our world today?

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

[1] A.29, “(On Charity),” Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, 710. Available at: https://‌‌via.‌library.‌depaul.edu/‌ldm/.

 

Ted Lasso, the Mission, and Relying on Stories to Share the Load

In the depths of the pandemic last year, my family, friends, and even work colleagues began sharing recommendations for which show to binge watch next. I’m sure we weren’t alone. This probably started because retelling stories of our daily lives was bleak and became an exercise in recycled trauma, whatever our vocation. We weren’t seeing each other, scattered as we were across the country and world, or even next door, so TV shows became our lingua franca and way of being with one another.

Some of the shows were old standbys that had long since aired, so the spark of rediscovery and most importantly—knowing what came next—helped ease the overwhelming anxiety that permeated every other aspect of our lives. Even if we had seen the episode or heard the jokes before, there was something reassuring about that familiarity. Other shows were new (to us) and exploring their undiscovered countries felt like a joint expedition. Whether the series was just released, like The Flight Attendant or Loki, or was just finishing, like Schitt’s Creek or Killing Eve, we foraged streaming services looking for the next story to share.

With hindsight, a particular kind of humor ran through most of the series we collectively watched—a humor that borrowed a “dash of vinegar” [1] with its gentleness, a comic sense that didn’t flinch from the sadness and tragedy of the world, but that found a way to acknowledge sorrow and still laugh, and in so doing provide relief from its weight. Everything in our lives pushed us towards loneliness and individual sorrow, but through sharing these stories, we found ways to collectively persevere through humor. It made all the difference.

I’ll end with a quote from one of our favorite new shows, Ted Lasso, about an (American) football coach from Kansas who gets hired to lead a premier league (European) football team in England. On the surface, the series seems to be a celebration of joy and positivity (the eponymous Ted is unrelentingly optimistic, after all). Underneath, however, it is a show not about happiness alone, but how to cope with grief, together.

In a memorable scene (no spoilers), from the wonderfully titled episode The Hope That Kills You, Ted professes: “I promise you there is something worse out there than being sad, and that’s being alone and being sad. Ain’t no one in this room alone.” [2]

REFLECTION QUESTIONS

When things seem bleak and most sobering—what are ways that we can authentically find and share joy with one another? How can we find ways to make each other laugh, even while acknowledging the pain all around us? When pursuing our collective Vincentian mission, how do we make sure that we are taking care of each other along the way, so that our “immortified moods” [3] do not overtake both ourselves and our community?


Reflection by:            Alex Perry, Program Manager, Division of Mission and Ministry

  1. [I]f the gentleness of your spirit needs a dash of vinegar, borrow a little from Our Lord’s spirit. O Mademoiselle, how well He knew how to find a bittersweet remark when it is needed!
    Vincent de Paul (Volume: 1 | Page#: 383) To Saint Louise, 1 November, 1637
  2. “I promise you there is something worse out there than being sad, and that’s being alone and being sad. Ain’t no one in this room alone.”
    Ted Lasso, “The Hope that Kills You” Season 1, Episode 10, airdate October 2020
  3. We must hold as an irrefutable maxim that the difficulties we have with our neighbor arise more from our immortified moods than from anything else.”
    Vincent de Paul (Volume: 1 | Page#: 597) To Nicolas Durot, in Toulouse, December 1639

Look Up with Hope

Over the past weeks I’ve been privy to the laments of many who are trying to remain hopeful as they or their dear ones face the fear of COVID, as they struggle in a virtual world, or as they grapple with growing angst over our country. While we are living through very trying times, we are reminded by Elizabeth Ann Seton, a woman who knew suffering and struggles well, that sometimes all we can do is “look up with hope.”1

We hang onto a hope that tomorrow will be a new day with new challenges. But, in these trying times, our hope is often that we will be able to carry on and live to see a better day. Guiding the way, we are privileged to turn to the wisdom of our Vincentian sister who reminded us that no matter how difficult things are, “hope travels on nor quits us till we die.”2

It is in this hope that we will find the courage and energy to meet the challenges before us. It is in trusting hope that we look forward to a new and better day. Look up, and hope.


1) Regina Bechtle, S.C., Judith Metz, S.C., eds., Elizabeth Bayley Seton: Collected Writings, 3 vols. (Hyde Park: New City Press, 2000-2006), 2:611.

2) Ibid., 1:7.

 

Reflection by:  Rev. Dr. Diane Dardón, Director, Religious Diversity and Pastoral Care, Division of Mission and Ministry

Finding Hope

Louise de Marillac once wrote Vincent de Paul, “I see such disorder everywhere that I seem to be overwhelmed by it.” (L.10, Spiritual Writings, 335.) While we may not know the full extent of what Louise was going through, can we not relate to what she felt? In the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, the DePaul community is facing challenges we have never seen. Moving out of the dorms on short notice, social distancing and isolation, transitioning an entire quarter of in-class instruction to an online format, and working every day from home. All these major disruptions can certainly feel overwhelming.

Yet, in confronting such a feeling herself, Louise then noted, “Nevertheless, I continue to hope.” (Ibid.) The challenges we face are daunting, for some more than others. However, in opposition to that, we’ve seen the DePaul community come together to support each other, and to support those who may be struggling. We’ve seen deadlines extended and timelines modified, we’ve seen university employees receive wages even if their jobs can’t be done remotely, and we’ve seen numerous offices and departments move their face-to-face services online to provide outreach to students and colleagues.

We may be a long way from returning to “normal.” The challenges we face as a university and as a society will only continue to become more difficult in the coming weeks and months. As we endure and attempt to move forward amidst the disorder and disruption of the current crisis, we must be inspired to find hope as Louise once did. That hope may grow from our DePaul community, our family and friends, our God, larger society and the world, or all the above.

How are you currently challenged or overwhelmed by our current reality? Despite this, where do you find hope?

Reflection by:

Michael Van Dorpe, Program Manager for Faculty and Staff Engagement, Mission & Ministry

Step a Little Lighter

by Tom Judge

Blog picture

At the end of December, as I contemplated the calendar and the flip from 2014 to 2015, I imagined myself, of all things, an Acapulco cliff diver, balancing at the edge, preparing to take the plunge. Once the calendar turned, I jumped (and I had to jump) there was no way to hit the pause button, no way to turn back. The laws of gravity took over and my task since then has been simply to make the most of the journey.

Contemplating the New Year left me bit anxious, a little excited, somewhat resigned. I can’t stop time from passing, I know. But, I can have some influence over the way it passes.

I think of myself as a unique and dazzling being – special just for being me. But, just as importantly, a part of the greater whole. A community expanding outward to encompass many individuals and communities – all just as valuable and essential as myself.

I thought now – the middle of February – would be a good time to check in on the New Year with people. What did you commit to at the start of 2015? Are you still committed? What stars have you been steering by…touchstones to ground and center you during the coming year of change and challenge? In case you’ve struggled to find these touchstones, I offer three possibilities here:

Hope – in the future, in what lies ahead. Hope that we will all learn a little this year and that we will not simply make the same old mistakes time after time. (NEW mistakes are ok!)   Hope that is born of faith in something Transcendent. A hope that the same Transcendence that placed a star over a manger and moved three wise men to follow it will be present in our lives, too. Guiding and caring for us as we make our own journeys towards unknown epiphanies.

Compassion – for both others AND ourselves. That we may be gentle and understanding when disappointments arise. For, the reality is that while hope must never be extinguished, we know our aspirations and efforts do not always unfold as we envision. So, however straight or crooked, bumpy or smooth our path is this year, let us try and remember to have compassion. To find the good in life, learn from and accept it and then move on.

Care – if we hold this value dear in 2015, it will manifest in our actions. The stranger, the person on the margins, the homeless, oppressed and disadvantaged. They are never too far from our thoughts; we move in and out of their world and they ours. We grow in understanding and acceptance of the reality that “I am my sister’s keeper. I am my brother’s keeper.” Not only will I serve them, I will purse justice. I will do so in communion with others. This purpose will be visible in my behavior throughout the year.

As January has moved into February and I have adjusted to the new number on the calendar, I have envisioned myself an ancient sojourner. Cloak to protect me from the wind, sturdy shoes and a walking stick for company. But, I am not alone. Being in relationships of love, guided by hope, compassion and care, my heart is brighter, my steps a little lighter as I continue to move forward through 2015.

Tom Judge is a Chaplain at the DePaul Loop Campus.  Feel free to share a comment below about how you’re stepping a little lighter in 2015.