The Good Life

Written By: Tom Judge, Chaplain, Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry

This winter I’ve been doing some travelling, spending a lot of time behind the wheel. Usually when I find myself with long stretches in the car, I like to listen to a little music. My choices, not surprisingly, are most often songs from an artist or group I like or that have a fun memory associated with them, basically, tunes that make me feel good. But every once in a while, instead of listening to music, I feel the urge to try and improve my character. I had one of those aspirational moments on a recent Saturday while I was driving through the hills of western Pennsylvania. And, so, instead of cranking up The Greatest Hits of the ’80s, I googled a list of the most popular TED Talks ever, scanned the titles, and picked one that sounded as if it could be edifying.

The talk is called “What Makes a Good Life? Lessons from the Longest Study on Happiness.” [1] It’s about a research study from Harvard University that examines adult human development and has been taking place continuously over a span of more than eighty-five years. The study began in the late 1930s and followed 724 teenage males from the university and various, mostly lower socioeconomic, Boston neighborhoods. Every few years, researchers contacted their subjects, asked detailed questions about their lives, accessed their medical records, and even took DNA samples to amass a wealth of data on human health, success, and satisfaction. From all of this varied and complex information, one very clear finding stands out: good relationships are the largest single contributor to a happy and fulfilling life. As much as money, status, talent, or accomplishments may enhance our lives, give us pleasure, or help us meet our needs, according to the study, they do not impact our basic sense of joy and contentment as much as the quality of our connections with other human beings.

As I reflect on this TED Talk, with its simple, profound message, I sense a deep resonance between the results of the Harvard study and the lessons of our Vincentian heritage. Strong and loving relationships have always been at the heart of the mission Vincent and Louise began four centuries ago. From the forming of early communities to the carrying out of ministries to the poor, a premium was always placed on relating to the other as a true friendwith respect, gentleness, and charity—whether the other is a person one lives and works with, or a person one is in a position to serve. [2] The life-shaping importance of good relationships is wisdom made real for us from two distinct sources: a highly regarded study out of our nation’s oldest university, and the time-honored mission that guides our nation’s largest Catholic university. Different as these origins are, the essence of their lesson is the same: good relationships—true human connections—are the foundation of a happy and satisfying life.

What does that lesson mean for us today and how might we use this wisdom going forward? It seems to me that in 2025, DePaul is an energetic, life-giving, and ambitious university, albeit with plenty of challenges, existing in a world that has many reasons for hope amid distressing possibilities. Given these realities, there appears to be an acute need for us as individuals, as well as a community, to prioritize the fostering of good relationships in our lives and within our university. Zealously continuing to nurture DePaul as a place where true friendships and feelings of connectedness thrive will not only help us live out the spirit of our Vincentian mission, it will also provide the essential element of a happy life to all those who call DePaul home.


Reflection Questions:

  1. How would you describe the state of the relationships in your life? Would you like to develop new, meaningful relationships or renew older, more established ones? If so, what can you do to set this in motion? It is never too late!
  2. What can you, your department, or the university as a whole do to cultivate meaningful connections and life-giving relationships at DePaul? If you have an idea you would like to share, consider reaching out to someone on the Faculty and Staff Engagement team from the Division of Mission and Ministry. You may also contact Staff Council or Faculty Council.

Reflection by: Tom Judge, Chaplain, Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry

[1] Robert Waldinger, “What Makes a Good Life? Lessons from the Longest Study on Happiness,” TED Talk, November 2015, 12 min., 31 sec. https://www.ted.com/talks/‌robert_waldinger_‌what_makes_‌a_good_life_‌lessons_‌from_the_longest_study_on_happiness/transcript?referrer=playlist-the_most_‌popular_ted_‌talks_‌of_all_time&autoplay=true. See also Robert Waldinger and Marc Schulz, The Good Life: Lessons from the World’s Longest Scientific Study of Happiness (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2023).

[2] For a recent Mission Monday reflection on the importance of friendship to our early Vincentian forebears, see Miranda Lukatch, “The Vincentian Roots of Friendship,” The Way of Wisdom (blog), February 10, 2025, https://‌blogs.‌depaul.edu/dmm/2025/02/07/the-vincentian-roots-of-friendship/.

The Vincentian Roots of Friendship

Written By: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

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

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

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

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

Reflection Questions:

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

Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrestling with God

Exactly eighteen years ago, on this day, December 9th, I became the first woman in my family to chant publicly from the Torah. I still remember the opening words like a catchy song.

In Vayishlach, the Torah portion for this week, there are two brothers—twins—Jacob and Esau, who never really get along. One is smooth, one is hairy. One is scheming, one is brusque. In fact, they wrestle together in the womb. Jacob tricks his nearly blind father into giving him the blessing that belongs to Esau as the firstborn. The brothers’ relationship is a disaster from the get-go.

Jacob eventually settles in Canaan, with status, material wealth, and many offspring. Perhaps out of fear, perhaps because he truly misses his brother (the Torah often lets us infer emotional subtext), Jacob invites Esau to reconcile with him. The night before Esau’s arrival, Jacob finds himself alone, wrestling with an angel.

Hold up. Wrestling with an angel?

Was he hallucinating? Was he having a bad case of sleep paralysis?

In the Torah, it says that Jacob came panim-el-panim (Hebrew for “face-to-face”) with God.

What does it mean to come face-to-face with God? When was the last time you felt God’s presence? Was it during a moment of tranquility, connection, solitude, despair? Do you ever wrestle with God? Perhaps with the concept of God itself?

There are, of course, many interpretations, from rabbis and scholars, about what Jacob endured that night. But here’s mine: Jacob, alone in the dark, finally faces himself. He wrestles with his conscience. He admits to himself that he has, in some way, wronged his brother.

One of the Vincentian values we espouse at DePaul is humility. And not just humility when it comes to our successes or material possessions, but humility in the context of our personal and communal relationships. Saint Vincent de Paul writes, “You must ask God to give you power to fight against the sin of pride which is your greatest enemy—the root of all that is evil, and the failure of all that is good.”[1]

“Sin” and “failure” are charged words that don’t always sit well with me. But Saint Vincent had a good point. Holding onto our pride—nursing past resentments, harboring the belief that we are always right—detracts from our ability to empathize and see the humanity in those who hold different perspectives from us.

It’s a vicious cycle: when we can’t see the humanity in others, it’s hard for others to see the humanity in us.

The morning after Jacob wrestles with God, Esau approaches him in the desert, and, in an unexpected turn of events, forgives him. The brothers fall into one another’s arms, weeping. In a deep act of humility, Esau declines the many gifts Jacob offers him, but Jacob insists, telling his brother that seeing his face is like “seeing the face of God.”[2]

Panim-el-panim. Face-to-face. We can only really glimpse the divine in others when we come face-to-face with ourselves. Because we only exist in relationship. Never alone. And there are always angels.

Reflection Questions

  1. When was the last time you came face-to-face with someone who deeply disagreed with you?
  2. When was the last time you came face-to-face with yourself?

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

 

[1] “St. Vincent de Paul—You Must Ask God to Give You Power to Fight Against the Sin of Pride,” Catholic Digest Magazine, 14 October 2021, https://www.catholicdigest.com/from-the-magazine/quiet-moment/‌st vincent-depaul-you-must ask-god-to-give-you-power-to-fight-against-the-sin-of-pride/.

[2] Genesis 33:10, The Contemporary Torah (Jewish Publication Society, 2006), https://‌www.‌sefaria.‌org/‌Genesis.33.11?lang=bi&aliyot=0.

The Dignity of Help

Written by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

Photograph by Akhil Nath.

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

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

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

Reflection Questions:

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

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


Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

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

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

Showing up in a Time of Digital Distance

As has been the case during many former Lenten seasons, this year several groups of DePaul faculty and staff met on Zoom during a six-week period to participate in faith-sharing groups. Even though many of the group members had never before met, their time invited them to get to know colleagues on a much deeper level than activities of the workplace typically allow. During these sessions, we shared about the events of our lives in light of our faith commitments, and we prayed together as a community gathered together for the sake of a rich mission. While we may have started out as strangers, we soon became spiritual companions who travelled together on a unique journey, opening up about our lives and supporting each other during an intimate and sacred moment in time.

In many ways, this simple commitment to meet together and to share honestly aligned with the invocation of Saint Vincent, centuries before, to model truthful simplicity. Writing to a fellow priest, Vincent had implored, “Have the simplicity of a dove. This means giving a straightforward opinion about things in the way we honestly see them, without needless reservations. It also means doing things without any double-dealing or manipulation, our intention being focused solely on God.”[1] After all, “everyone loves simple, candid people, who don’t use subtleties or tricks, who are straightforward and speak sincerely, with the result that whatever they say comes from their heart.… they’re respected … esteemed by all.[2]

Last week’s Mission Monday invited us to reflect on our human need to be in community and to feel cared for in good times and in bad. As I reflect upon what happened for me this Lenten season, our faith-sharing groups made manifest the best of “Take Care DePaul.” We showed up for one another. We listened and supported each other. At times, we gently challenged each other. We shared our truths, and we made meaning together. We trusted one another. And, if members couldn’t attend, we prayed for them and for the larger DePaul community. It was a form of spiritual accompaniment, a way of reminding each other that we matter, and the events of our lives matter. In a world that is so often defined by digital distance, this weekly coming together reminded us that we were not alone.

At its best, DePaul is a community that cares, and caring for the other is an integral part of working at a Vincentian university. Moreover, it is part of what it means to be human and is essential for human flourishing.

There are many experiences that may represent for us the best of DePaul. In the midst of the winter quarter, these groups were just one small manifestation of such an experience. They offered an opportunity to come together and listen to each other in a supportive environment of peers. This meant that for just a brief moment in time, we were able to share what was in our hearts and feel heard. It offered an opportunity to care and, in a spirit of mutuality, to experience being cared for by trusted peers. Engaging in such meaningful experiences has the potential to remind us that another world is possible, a world that is more caring and compassionate, in which all may thrive.

Reflection Questions

How might you/we create more experiences with colleagues that allow for deeper interpersonal sharing, support, and connection?

Think of a moment when you felt you were particularly well cared for at DePaul. Who showed up for you at that time? How have you paid this moment forward? What did that feel like?

Recall a time when you spoke the truth in the face of your own fears. What do you remember of this moment? What did you learn from it?


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

[1] Constitutions and Statutes of the Congregation of the Mission, English trans. (Rome: General Curia of the Congregation of the Mission, 1989), 109.

[2] Pierre Coste, C.M., ed., Vincent de Paul: Correspondence, Conferences, Documents, ed. and trans. Jacqueline Kilar, D.C. et al., 14 vols. (New York: New City Press, 1985-2008), 12:142.

Inspiration for Sincere Dialogue in Difficult Times

Martin Luther King, Jr., meets with President Lyndon B. Johnson
Lyndon B. Johnson Library, Public Domain

“We live at a time when the world is full of violence, oppression and conflict.” “We live in a time of deep division in our own country.” Perhaps both these statements are true of many times, maybe even all times, but they are certainly true of this one. The communication technologies of our period also can serve to make these realities seem closer to us or harder for many of us to escape, even if we’d like to.

One of the reasons we honor and celebrate certain special individuals is because we hope that in their lives, we can find wisdom and inspiration for our own times. In the span of a few weeks at the beginning of the year, we mark the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr., the celebration of Foundation Day (the commemoration of the start of the Vincentian Mission), and the birthday of Abraham Lincoln. So much could be said about each of these days and the men and the movements they commemorate. Today, let’s consider what they might suggest to us about relationship and dialogue in difficult times.

In reading the highly acclaimed new biography of Dr. King by Jonathan Eig (who happens to live near DePaul’s Lincoln Park campus), I was struck by King’s relationship with President Lyndon B. Johnson. Johnson reached out to King three days after the assassination of President Kennedy seeking his assistance.[1] Johnson was a highly skilled political operator and said he was committed to civil rights but he knew he needed the help of King, who was then at the height of his mainstream popularity and success. They remained in close contact although neither publicized their dialogue, and both were wary of the other. (In fact, both knew that elements of the federal government were spying on King and seeking to destroy him.) King wept after watching Johnson’s powerful address to Congress after the civil rights movement was met with violence in Selma (and after Johnson had met in the White House with Alabama’s segregationist governor George Wallace).[2] The address called Congress and the nation to pass the Voting Rights Act. Despite what they were able to accomplish in this arena, as Johnson continued to escalate the Vietnam War, King would not remain silent, despite the advice of many who considered themselves his allies in the movement.[3]

In his famous “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” King stressed the importance of dialogue and negotiations (along with research to identify injustices and to engage in self-purification). Yet King rejected the idea that direct action was in opposition to dialogue and negotiations. King argued that while destructive violence must always be opposed, the constructive tension created by nonviolent direct action was often necessary to force those in power to engage in dialogue and negotiations with the marginalized. King said that while he initially disliked being the label of extremist, he now embraced the need for “creative extremists” for love, truth, and justice.[4]

While the time and place of Vincent was not one of direct action or of democracy, I would argue that Vincent and the organizations he founded relied not only on service, but also on creative calls through words and actions for those in power to accept their responsibility for those on the margins. The call for the powerful in France to live up to the Christian example and not ignore those in poverty stood in stark contrast to the injustices of French society. When Vincent was transformed from a smart young man who was motivated to make a better life for himself to one utterly committed to serving God and those living in poverty, he did not cut off relationships with the elite and powerful in society. Instead, he continued to cultivate them with the aim of using those relationships to fulfill his mission.

I have also been reading a compelling recent book on Abraham Lincoln by NPR’s Steve Inskeep.[5] While Lincoln, like King, is remembered for his powerful oratory, this book focuses on Lincoln’s relationships and dialogues. Each chapter focuses on a different account of encounters between Lincoln and another person who came from a different background than him and with whom he had a significant disagreement. What stands out in each encounter is Lincoln’s willingness to engage with those with whom he disagreed. The results of the dialogue were rarely about one convincing the other, but Lincoln used the dialogues to understand others better. He was a quintessential politician and believer in democracy, and he could use his understanding of the others’ interests to define priorities and create coalitions to accomplish his most important goals. Although as a politician Lincoln would often choose to remain strategically silent as part of this process, Inskeep’s book takes its title from something Lincoln wrote in a letter to his close friend Joshua Speed. Speed came from a slaveholding family and Lincoln “chided [him] for admitting the “abstract wrong” of slavery but failing to act accordingly.”[6] Still, Lincoln remained in relationship with Speed, signing off the letter with “your friend forever.”[7]

We all have different roles to play in life and in the university. Just as the roles and perspectives of a prophetic preacher leading a movement for social change, a politician in an era of civil war, and a saintly founder of a religious order in an absolute monarchy may differ greatly, we may see our own roles differently based on our positions, personalities, or other commitments. I see in each of these examples a call to remain in dialogue and relationship with others, even those with whom I may have profound differences or disagreements. I have seen a call to sincerity in that dialogue which means a willingness to express difficult truths and to listen to them. Finally, I appreciate the role that constructive, creative tension can play in individual and communal transformation when we are willing to channel that tension into dialogue and negotiation.

I am inspired by the people and spaces in the university that help form students to engage in these types of difficult, sincere ongoing dialogues. Among those with which I am most familiar are the Interfaith Scholars program and the Grace School of Applied Diplomacy, but I know there are many others. What are the ways in which you think DePaul engages these questions best and what are ways in which we might be able to do better?


REFLECTION BY: Abdul-Malik Ryan, Muslim Chaplain and Assistant Director, Office of Religious Diversity, Division of Mission and Ministry.

[1] Jonathan Eig, King: A Life (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2023), 351.

[2] Ibid., 435.

[3] Ibid., 514–30.

[4] See Martin Luther King, Jr., “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” August 1963, https://www.csuchico.edu/iege/_assets/documents/susi-letter-from-birmingham-jail.pdf.

[5] Steve Inskeep, Differ We Must: How Lincoln Succeeded in a Divided America (New York: Penguin Press, 2023).

[6] Ibid., xiv-xv.

[7] Ibid., xv.

Entering into the Heart of Another

Another effect of charity is to rejoice with those who rejoice. It causes us to enter into their joy.” – Vincent de Paul [1]

Recently, I spent time in the bleachers of Sullivan Athletic Center, cheering on our women’s volleyball team as they faced the Huskies of Northern Illinois. Though I don’t really understand the finer points of the game, I love the intensity, pace, and athletic prowess that are fundamental to volleyball. And, I have tremendous admiration for the competitiveness and teamwork that are so critical to any sport at the elite collegiate level.

There is something else I love about volleyball: the behavior of the players on the court after each point. In those moments, if DePaul wins the rally with a spike or block or great serve, the players quickly gather in something resembling a group hug, rejoicing with the one who made the winning play and celebrating the moment before resuming the set. If DePaul loses the point, the response is very similar— a brief group huddle that is not celebratory but instead seems to communicate support to the player who may have missed a shot and also helps the team refocus for the next point. In both scenarios, despite the different outcomes, players are empathizing with one another. In those few moments, they are strengthening their bonds as teammates and pushing themselves to work together to win the next point and, ultimately, the match.

This simple demonstration of unity and devotion by our volleyball players seems to resonate with the quote that inspired today’s reflection. In the conference from which this quote is taken, Vincent de Paul is addressing members of the still-developing Congregation of the Mission (the Vincentian priests). He is urging them, for the sake of their mission’s ultimate success and sustainability, to ground their communities in virtue, particularly the virtue of charity (or what we might call today love). Vincent believed that the presence of a generous amount of charity within a community would lead to its members being able to “enter in” to the hearts of one another, to rejoice with those members who rejoice and grieve with those who are saddened. In other words, charity would create a community where there is genuine empathy, ever-present support, and abundant compassion among its members for one another.

When I have the privilege of visiting with university colleagues and learning what they value most about being at DePaul, their answers are almost always animated by their gratitude for our community. They speak of the affection they feel for treasured coworkers who are also good friends, the admiration they have for talented colleagues who diligently work on behalf of students, the enjoyment they take at campus-wide events that unite us in celebration, ritual or, simply, fun. On a large-scale and in small, personal ways—and even on a volleyball court—evidence abounds that DePaul, at its best, is a living example of the community grounded in love that Vincent de Paul set out to establish.

But, being a place where the lived norms are empathy, support, and compassion is not easy to achieve or maintain, nor does it automatically result from having a Vincentian identity. To be a community of charity needs to be made a priority both institutionally and individually. Then, it must be backed up by commitment, hard work, humility, equity, shared goals, cordial relationships, placing the good of the whole over that of the individual, and so forth. Although the challenges are real, DePaul has a history of being this type of loving community and a mission that supports this going forward.

Reflection Questions:

  • Are there people you know at DePaul who have recently accomplished something of note or celebrated a joyful experience? Or, alternatively, suffered a loss or are going through a particular struggle?  Consider reaching out to these people to offer congratulations and celebration or support and sympathy.
  • Where have you witnessed examples – either large or small – of empathy, support or compassion that help to make DePaul a more caring community? How might you be called to contribute to or build upon these examples?

Reflection by: Tom Judge, Assistant Director and Chaplain, Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry

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

Our Mission Needs a Community

What a blessing to be a member of a Community because each individual shares in the good that is done by all!”[1]

I have been thinking a lot lately about communitywhat it means, what it looks like, and why it is so essential to us as human beings and as a university, especially in our current context. Looking back on past Mission Monday reflections, it is clearly not the first time I have felt this to be important to identify as an essential focus for an organization like ours that seeks to embody the Vincentian name.

Yet, there are many reasons for the need to re-emphasize the importance of community at this time:

  • the ongoing changes we are moving through as a university community, including the loss of many longtime friends and colleagues;
  • the marked increase in colleagues working from home since the pandemic;
  • the concurrent loss of regular face-to-face interactions in common spaces;
  • the larger cultural divisions and inequities in our society that only linger if not addressed directly;
  • the growing tendency among many to connect with each other and to learn only or primarily via computer or smartphone; and
  • recent public reporting on the rise and deleterious impact of loneliness in U.S. society.

Each of these changes—and there are clearly others—has recently had drastic effects on workplace norms and workplace culture within the patterns of our lives and relationships at DePaul.

Perhaps this draw to focus again on the importance of community also simply reflects my own experience and ongoing hunger for human connection, to feel a sense of belonging, and to participate in something more beyond the daily tasks of my individual work.

Regardless of the source of my musings, I am certain I am not alone. The experience of being part of a community is important for the well-being of humanity and for the flourishing of our workplaces, including and especially our university. Furthermore, here at DePaul, many rightly appreciate the experience of community as being “very Vincentian.”

In fact, how we sustain and continue to build a vibrant communal life is one of the vital, open questions facing us today. Over my eighteen years at DePaul, I believe the intentional work and effort of building community, and the need for it, has never been more important and more at risk. As we look ahead to the summer and the coming academic year, it is essential that we continue to weave and re-weave with great intention and care the fabric of our communal life if our Vincentian mission is to be effective and sustained over time.

I am fond of imagining Vincent de Paul in Folleville, France, in 1617 and what must have been going through his mind at that time. Based on his own retrospective reflections, that particular year and place seemed to represent an important moment in his life, a moment when, with the help of Madame de Gondi, Vincent arrived at a clearer vision of his own calling and the mission that God had entrusted to him.

The year 1617 was the final feather falling on the scales that tipped the orientation of Vincent’s life in a markedly different way. The upwardly mobile and aspirational priest, often rubbing elbows with the rich and powerful, began to focus his energies more and more toward a mission of service to and with society’s poor and marginalized for the remainder of his life. What he realized at that same time is that the mission God had entrusted to him was much bigger than he alone could fulfill. He needed others. In fact, Vincent’s effectiveness grew largely through the work of inspiring and organizing others to work in common to fulfill a shared mission. From the beginning, the Vincentian mission has been a collaborative and communal enterprise.

Simple in its genius, Vincent’s efforts anticipated current day organizational management insights by 400 years. The contemporary organizational and business writer and consultant Christine Porath, for example, has written extensively on how community is the key to companies moving from merely surviving to thriving together.[2] Simply put, her research suggests that when people experience a strong sense of community and belonging at work, they are more engaged, effective, healthy, and creative. This, in turn, leads to positive business outcomes. Many other organizational and business leaders have come to similar conclusions. It turns out that how we relate to each other as a community in the workplace, in fact, matters a great deal.

At DePaul, we speak often of being “a community gathered together for the sake of the mission.” We recognize and must remember that we need each other to thrive. Faculty, staff, administration, students, board members, alumni and donors work together effectively for a shared mission. Furthermore, as Vincent de Paul suggests, we each benefit from the good done by all. At our best, when we are flourishing as a community, we help, encourage, care for, collaborate with, and inspire one another. There is an energizing and vibrant unity that comes in our diversity—the unity of a shared mission to which each person contributes a part. This occurs only through ongoing intentionality and thoughtful daily interactions and efforts to build and sustain healthy and vibrant relationships with one another.

As we move into the summer months, through the many changes we are facing together, and into the new academic year this fall—this is your charge: How will you contribute to sustaining and building a vibrant and healthy sense of community together with your DePaul colleagues?

Submit your own recommendations as a response to this blog post or follow our Mission and Ministry LinkedIn group, which we will begin to use more often in the future as a place to share reflections on the workplace in light of anticipated changes with DePaul Newsline in the summer and the coming year. Perhaps by the time a new academic year begins, we can initiate some new efforts to weave or re-weave the fabric of our communal life and work intentionally toward thriving as “a community gathered together for the sake of the mission,” just as Vincent de Paul first envisioned.


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

[1] Conference 1, “Explanation of the Regulations,” July 31, 1634, CCD, 9:2. Available at https://‌via.‌library.‌depaul.‌edu/‌‌‌vincentian_ebooks/34/.

[2] See: Christine Porath, Mastering Community: The Surprising Ways Coming Together Moves us from Surviving to Thriving (New York: Balance Books, 2022); and C.M. Pearson and C.L. Porath, The Cost of Bad Behavior: How Incivility Is Damaging Your Business and What to Do About It (New York: Portfolio, 2009).

Vincent and Louise: A Model for Teamwork

When Louise de Marillac first discovered that Vincent de Paul had been assigned to be her new spiritual director, she stated, “It was repugnant for me to accept him.” While it is hard to know exactly what was behind Louise’s sentiments, it is clear that she was not pleased by the idea of working together with this Gascon peasant. However, as time went on, Vincent and Louise developed a deep and effective collaboration that would transform service to the poor and marginalized in seventeenth-century France and beyond. From a less than promising start, their friendship lasted 35 years, and their work together created a living legacy of which we are all part.

Think back to an instance when your initial perception of a work relationship changed over time. What did you learn from this experience?


A.2, Light, in Louise de Marillac, et al., Spiritual Writings of Louise De Marillac: Correspondence and Thoughts (New City Press, 1991), 1.