Every Life is a Whole World: Living through a Year of Sorrow

John Everett Millais, “A Woman Bowed in Grief

In a remarkable scriptural teaching echoed throughout multiple faith traditions, we learn that for whoever takes a life it as if they killed the whole world, while for whoever saves a life it as if they saved the whole world (or all of humanity). [1] This is an incredible inspiration for those who engage in noble pursuits seeking to save human lives. [2] In line with our Vincentian mission, it is a powerful testament to the sacred dignity of the human person and a warning against the temptation to use violence.

Personally, I have been thinking about this teaching recently as a way to approach the incomprehensible loss associated with the taking of human life occurring through war and other forms of violence. No matter who this involves or where it takes place, with each human life lost it is as if all humanity has been lost. In a time saturated with information about loss of life near to us and around the world, lives become tallied by numbers. Yet, for anyone who has lost a single person they love, the magnitude of loss is immeasurable. In this case, one understands that a whole world has been lost, a world of value and a world yet to be fully explored. When we focus on a single loss that is dear to us, it often becomes too overwhelming to function. Multiplying that by every life taken and the suffering of the world seems too much to bear.

In the Qur’an we find the promise that “God does not burden any soul with more than it can bear.” [3] Many readers do find reassurance in this, that whatever they are struggling with, or whatever losses they are dealing with, they can make it through. Many others, though, find it hard to understand since so many people are burdened with what is quite clearly impossible to bear—the death of a child, chronic illness, crushing poverty, pervasive violence. One lesson of the verse is that God will not hold us to account for being placed in impossible situations. Another implication is that when facing impossibly difficult situations or unimaginably deep grief, we should realize we are not meant to try to bear these things alone.

Our Vincentian role models Saints Vincent and Louise encountered many of the overwhelming problems of their world: ignorance, poverty, sickness, loneliness, inequality. They realized that divine connection, community, and an organized and sustained effort was needed in response. They created communities organized around the mission of responding systemically to such needs, and to nurturing spirits in the process.

Most of us recognize that grief and the attempt to respond to grief, whether in ourselves or others, can take many forms. Sometimes people find community with which to share burdens and loss. Some seek help in prayer, some find healing through the arts. Some turn to political activism and find meaning through making change. Some find expressing their righteous anger at the perpetrators of injustice to be the best response. And some organize with others to provide humanitarian relief to those in desperate need.

All these responses help people to make meaning of what they’ve endured or witnessed, to strive to make a better world, or to just make it through the day. We may have a particular response that makes the most sense to us, or we may cycle through many of the above responses. Sometimes we may find the responses of others confusing, counterproductive, or even offensive. My invitation to us all is to start with reminding ourselves of the magnitude of the burdens people carry. In a large and diverse community such as DePaul University these burdens are countless. Some may be apparent and known to others, but more are hidden under the surface, or perhaps not even fully understood by people about themselves. Jesuit priest Father Greg Boyle talks about how everything changes when we make the choice to “stand in awe at what [people] have to carry rather than stand in judgement at how they carry it.” [4]

As we move forward in a city and a world wracked with immeasurable loss and a great deal of fear, let us not let the enormity of the world’s grief overwhelm us to the point of despair. Let us instead allow it to open us up to community and to awe at what many of those around us are carrying. For every evil we witness or loss that we suffer, there are many opportunities to do good, to spread beauty, to facilitate healing. Let us use our creativity, our intelligence, and our tenderness to shape productive and life-giving pathways for people to respond to the suffering of themselves and others.

For Reflection

What grief or anxiety are you most experiencing in these days? What are ways in which you respond to that suffering? What are some ways in which you might accompany others who are suffering?


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

[1] From the Talmud (Sanhedrin 37A). Also cited in the Qur’an (5:32).

[2] It is memorably quoted in Steven Spielberg’s film Schindler’s List (1993).

[3] Qur’an 2:286.

[4] Gregory Boyle, Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion (New York, NY: Free Press, 2010), 67.

Learning with Dorothy Day

When the world feels bleak, I worry that I’m not doing enough. How can I justify my comfortable life when migrants are sleeping on the floors at Chicago police stations? Shouldn’t I show up to more protests and direct actions? How can I be in solidarity? What must be done? In response, I often ask myself: What would Dorothy Day do?

If you are not familiar with Dorothy, I encourage you to read about her life and the Catholic Worker movement that she co-founded in 1933, ninety years ago. Many people know the highlights. She was a leftist and a journalist, a young woman living in New York City during a time of political transformation. She converted to Catholicism, met an itinerant French intellectual named Peter Maurin, and they founded the Catholic Worker movement. Dorothy started the Catholic Worker, a newspaper about labor, capitalism, and more—all through a Catholic lens. When hungry people began showing up at the newspaper’s office, Dorothy and her collaborators fed them. This work is still going on today. In 2023, Catholic Worker houses of hospitality around the world blend radical social action and mutual aid.

I have lived in two Catholic Worker houses, and through her writing, Dorothy became my constant companion. When I lived there, I sorted clothing donations, prayed vespers, gave out toothbrushes, and went to round table discussions about sociopolitical issues. I played mahjong and scrabble with guests, rescued cats, distributed food to free fridges on the streets, and risked arrest to protest a tar sands pipeline. Dorothy’s writings kept me grounded in personalism and solidarity.

Young people have always gone to the Catholic Worker, seeking an experiential education that they didn’t find in the classroom. Some dropped out of prestigious universities to devote themselves to a countercultural lifestyle. Others moved into houses of hospitality after graduation. Dorothy embraced education in its most expansive sense. She understood that, among other things, the movement was becoming an alternative school for young adults. She and Maurin imagined a cross-class community in which workers would become scholars and scholars would become workers. Dorothy herself was a college drop-out; she left the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign in her second year. (She did finish high school right here in Lincoln Park, where she spent part of her childhood.) Dorothy spoke at colleges and universities, and she developed a deep knowledge of literature and the arts. However, she—rightly, in my view—knew that learning transcended the classroom.

In my role at DePaul, I get to introduce students to Dorothy Day. As coordinator of the Service Immersion Program, I bring students to houses of hospitality. Last spring, I took eight DePaul students to St. Francis House, the Catholic Worker house in Uptown. I left that conversation reinvigorated. The students asked wonderful questions about voluntary poverty, technology, mutual aid, and the logistics of hospitality. This experiential learning is in DePaul’s DNA, naturally flowing from our Vincentian mission. By introducing students to Dorothy and other Catholic Workers, I am giving them tools that have helped me wrestle with tough questions about justice and privilege. I commit to keep asking myself those tough questions, to question, unlearn, and learn alongside my students.

November is the month when many Christians remember the dead through the commemoration of All Saints Day and All Souls Day. For Catholic Workers, it is also a month when we remember the life and witness of Dorothy Day. She was born on November 8, 1897, and died on November 29, 1980. During this month when the veil between the living and the dead draws thin, I remember a woman who has shaped my life even though I never met her.

If you’d like to learn more, From Union Square to Rome is a good introduction to Dorothy’s writings. I’ve also heard good things about D.L. Mayfield’s new biography, Unruly Saint. To get a pulse on the contemporary Catholic Worker movement, you can subscribe to the newspaper. The masthead still proclaims that it sells for a penny a copy.

Catholics believe that “there is no time with God.” This means that our relationships with the dead are real and powerful. This November, I invite you to enter into relationship with Dorothy across space and time. You don’t need to be a young adult to become a student of the movement. As we live through uncertainty, we must remember to call on the crowd of witnesses, the saints who can show us how to live, work, and be together.

Reflection questions:

  • How do you continue to learn and grow outside the classroom?
  • Who are the saints and ancestors who guide you in challenging times?

Reflection by: Abigail Rampone, Ministry Coordinator for Vincentian Service and Immersions

The Final Word is Love

“We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community.”[1] – Dorothy Day

November is a month when people of many cultures and traditions celebrate the lives of those who have died. Recently, you may have noticed the many beautiful “ofrendas” or altars set up throughout our campuses to celebrate the lives of those who have gone before us. Indeed, in the Mexican tradition, the “Dia de los Muertos” or “Day of the Dead” is a way of affirming the ongoing presence and spirit of one’s ancestors. Furthermore, at the beginning of November, Catholics all over the world designate All Saints and All Souls Days as a time to go to Mass and pray for the souls of the departed and honor their memory.

One of the greatest privileges of my work in the Division of Mission and Ministry is when I accompany a person who has lost a loved one. Sometimes this involves planning a memorial service, often held on Zoom, where colleagues, friends, and family can come together to pay tribute to the life and living memory of the deceased. People often attend these virtual gatherings with cherished photographs in hand, keen to recall poignant stories or offer funny anecdotes. Favorite songs may be shared, as well as an abundance of prayers and poems. In such emotional and reverential moments, we gather to say, “you matter,” “your life matters,” “your loss matters,” and “your pain matters to me and to us.” While no one can take away the brokenness of a grieving heart, we can certainly walk together and support each other when the journey ahead feels daunting and perhaps even impossible to travel alone. Walking together in love is what Vincentian personalism calls us to do. It is the best of DePaul.

There is certainly no one blueprint to help us navigate the meandering journey of grief. Indeed, we must all forge our own journey along this most human of paths. Yet, at DePaul we understand ourselves to be “a community gathered together for the sake of the mission.” We are a place that offers a deep sense of belonging; a place where we “take care DePaul;” and a place of human flourishing. So, what, beyond individual acts of human kindness, might we do as a community to support those who are recently bereaved?

One November, perhaps over a decade ago, such questions prompted the Division of Mission and Ministry to invite our DePaul community to come together in a show of solidarity and support with those who were grieving among us. We called this event the “Gathering of Remembrance” and it has continued ever since. The Gathering, which is a short interfaith service, invites DePaul to pause and make the world stop for the smallest of moments to remember those who have died. It also serves to assure their loved ones that we are here to walk with them as long as the journey of grief may take. During this short service, we read aloud the names of recently deceased loved ones that a DePaul community member has shared with us, and we call these people to mind in prayer. It is a service that is both beautiful and powerful in its simplicity. We remember those who have died. We honor them, and we let our colleagues and DePaul friends know they are not alone in this journey we call life. We walk together in love and that love is demonstrated through community.

On November 16th at 4:30 pm in the Commons, I would like to invite you to join us for this year’s Gathering of Remembrance. In making this invitation, the words of Dorothy Day resonate deeply within my heart, “We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community.”

We hope to see you there, but even if you can’t join us, feel free to send any names of your loved one(s) who have died during the last year that you would like us to remember.

If you would like to attend the Gathering of Remembrance click here to RSVP.


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

[1] “The Final Word Is Love,” Dorothy Day, 1 February 1952, at: https://catholicworker.org/ddlw-867/.

From Oppression to Freedom: The Importance of Remembering

Earlier this month, Jewish families around the world came together for Passover seders as they retold the story of the exodus from Egypt. Through symbols, rituals, and blessings, people celebrated the blessing of freedom and the reminder that since we were once slaves and were freed, it is our responsibility to work for freedom for all people everywhere. Passover is a joyous holiday that helps us remember a history of oppression with a celebration of freedom and feelings of hope to come.

Soon after Passover every year, we observe a more somber day of remembrance. Today at 5:00 p.m., the DePaul community will come together to observe Yom HaShoah, a day of remembrance for the six million Jewish people and millions of others who lost their lives during the Holocaust. During this event, we will mourn the loss of all who perished and honor those who survived. Together we will reflect, remember, and learn from this tragedy. We vow never to forget.

Zachor, the Hebrew word for remember, is found in the Hebrew Bible nearly 200 times. This includes the commandment to remember the exodus from Egypt, along with remembering to keep the Sabbath and other commandments. The Baal Shem Tov (Jewish mystic and founder of Hasidism) taught, “Forgetfulness leads to exile while remembrance is the secret of redemption.”[1]

Remembering our past is important, but it is not enough. In a White House briefing on Yom HaShoah last year, President Biden wrote, “Remembrance is our eternal duty, but remembrance without action risks becoming an empty ritual.”[2]

During this season of remembrance, I challenge you to consider those on campus who may not feel free to be their authentic selves. Students may not feel truly free because of antisemitism, Islamophobia, racism, classism, or other forms of hate and oppression.

The mission of the university states, “DePaul compassionately upholds the dignity of all members of its diverse, multi-faith, and inclusive community.”[3]

How do we live out our mission so that all feel free? In our daily lives, what can we do to help move from the oppression of our past to the hope of freedom in the future?


Reflection by: Dr. Jennifer Goldberg, Jewish Life and Interfaith Coordinator, Division of Mission and Ministry

[1] Avinoam Patt, “Zachor: Why Jewish Memory Matters,” My Jewish Learning, https://‌www.‌myjewishlearning.‌com/‌article/zachor-why-jewish-memory-matters/.

[2] “A Proclamation on Days of Remembrance of Victims of the Holocaust, 2022,” the White House, April 22, 2022, https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/presidential-actions/2022/04/22/a-proclamation-‌on-days-of-remembrance-of-victims-of-the-holocaust-2022/.

[3] “University Mission Statement,” Division of Mission and Ministry, DePaul University, March 4, 2021, https://offices.depaul.edu/mission-ministry/about/Pages/mission.aspx.

Who Has Shown You the Way?

Image of torch lighting the way

“Let us often recall all the actions of the life of our Beloved so that we may imitate them.” [1]

Today marks the annual Christian feast of All Saints Day, commemorating those who preceded us and are recognized as saints for their exemplary lives of faith and service. Regardless of your background, you probably know a few official Catholic saints, starting with Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac, of whom we speak often around here. Or you may know of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, influential in early Catholic education in the United States and founder of the Sisters of Charity, a part of the Vincentian family. Perhaps you’ve also heard of such popular Christian saints as Saint Francis of Assisi, founder of the Franciscans, Saint Dominic, founder of the Dominicans, or Saint Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuits. Each of them are remembered and honored for the way in which they modeled values and virtues that we admire and for their long lasting legacies sustained by their followers.

Beyond formally recognized saints, we might also take this opportunity to consider those in our own lives, whether living or dead, personally known or admired from afar, who have shown us a way of living that we admire and may even want to emulate. It has been said that saints are people through whom God’s light shines.

We may never think of ourselves as being anywhere near the level of sainthood, and yet even in our simple and sometimes fumbling humanity, in any moment or situation of our lives, we can be people through whom love and generosity shine for the benefit of others. As we reflect this month on those who have gone before us, let us be inspired by the evidence of goodness in the lives of so many others and the way they have helped to show us a way forward. May we each contribute plenty of evidence of a similar goodness in the way we live our lives here in our DePaul community and beyond.

For your reflection:

Who has modeled a way of living that you aspire to emulate? Who are the people who have preceded you in history who have been torchbearers for you, lighting the way forward? Who have you learned from … perhaps simply by watching the way they live their lives … and who has inspired or challenged you to grow into new levels of wholeness, service, or commitment?

Share your responses to these questions in the comments below!

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

Please join us for our annual Gathering of Remembrance honoring the lives of loved ones and family members of those in our DePaul community. The gathering will be broadcast on Wednesday, November 17th at 4:00 pm as a premiere video on YouTube Live.

If you have names of loved ones you would like to be remembered, please share them here by the end of today, November 1st: Name Submission Form

[1] A.27, On the Pure Love We Have Vowed to God, Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, 829. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/ldm/.

Honoring Those Who Have Shaped Us

“I embrace your heart and your family with all the tenderness of my heart.” — St. Vincent de Paul

Vincent de Paul wrote this line to Louis Dupont in 1659. The quote is unique in that Vincent does not express kindness solely to Louis, but extends it to his family as well. For most people we encounter, we act as the bridge between them, our family, and our friends. To know those closest to us is to know our greatest support systems, and to encounter our friends and family is to gain insight into how we became the people we are today.

In our world today, what are some ways we can be intentional in honoring our relationships with those closest to us?

Every culture, person, community, etc. may have a different answer. With the end of October quickly approaching, one example can be found in Dia de los Muertos, or “Day of the Dead.” No, not Halloween, or even a sad holiday. This is a celebration existing in different forms throughout Latin America, and is a time when the relationships we hold closest to our hearts are remembered. Typically, for Dia de los Muertos, a colorful ofrenda (or “altar”) is made by family and or friends to honor their departed loved ones. This ofrenda is set up on October 31 and remains until November 2, All Souls Day. This year around the university, you may wish to contribute names or photos of any loved ones to community ofrendas. They will be everywhere, from the residence halls to the 11th floor of the DePaul Center. (If you have questions or want to get involved contact Tepeyac, the student organization, at depaul.tepeyac@gmail.com)

An ofrenda is just one way to express kindness and honor to those who played a role in shaping us. Take some time to reflect on what makes the most sense for you.

What actions make you feel closest to your family or friends, both those on this earth, and those who have passed away?

Reflection by:

Joshua Smyser-DeLeon, Assistant Director, Alumni Relations

DePaul’s annual Gathering of Remembrance event will be held this year on Thursday, November 14th, at 4:30 p.m. in Cortelyou Commons, Lincoln Park Campus. Should you have names of loved ones you would like to be remembered, and/or if you would like to RSVP to attend the event, more information can be found here: http://events.depaul.edu/event/depaul_gathering_of_remembrance#.XbBf3mZOm70